Steward at Restaurant:
May I help you, Sir?
The Protagonist:
I'm Mr. Crosby's lunch.
Steward at Restaurant:
I presume you mean Sir Michael Crosby's Lunch.
The Protagonist:
Presume away.
Steward at Restaurant:
If you'll follow me. [Leads The Protagonist to Sir Michael's Table]
Sir Michael Crosby:
Started without you. Hope you don't mind.
The Protagonist:
I'll catch up...[Points to Sir Michaels Plate and gestures to The Stewart]...Same for me, Please.
Steward at Restaurant:
I'll send the waiter.
The Protagonist:
No, Just Pass on the Order.
Sir Michael Crosby:
I gather you have an interest in a certain Russian national.
The Protagonist:
Anglo-Russian. So I have to watch my step.
Sir Michael Crosby:
Indeed. He's tapped into the intelligence services. I've warned them he's feeding them rubbish...but they don't seem to care.
The Protagonist:
Tell me about him.
Sir Michael Crosby:
I assume you're familiar with the Soviet-era secret cities.
The Protagonist:
Closed cities, not shown on maps. Built around sensitive industries. Most of them have been opened up and renamed as regular towns.
Sir Michael Crosby:
Not the one Sator grew up in. Stalsk-12. In the '70's, it had a population of about 200,000. Thought to be abandoned.
The Protagonist:
Abandoned?
Sir Michael Crosby:
Some kind of accident. After which it was used for underground tests. Two weeks ago, same day as the Kiev Opera Siege, We Spotted a Detonation in Northern Siberia, Just where Stalsk-12 was. Sator Emerged from this blank spot on the map with ambition and enough money to buy his way into the British establishment.
The Protagonist:
Through his Wife?
Sir Michael Crosby:
Katherine Barton. Oldest niece of Sir Frederick Barton. She works at Shipley's. Met Sator at an Auction.
The Protagonist:
A Happy Marriage?
Sir Michael Crosby:
Practically Estranged.
The Protagonist:
Well, How do I get to Sator?
Sir Michael Crosby:
Well, Through Her, Of Course.
The Protagonist:
You may have an inflated idea of my powers of seduction.
Sir Michael Crosby:
[Shakes his Hand] Hardly. [Gestures to a Bag near the table] We have an Ace in the Hole.
The Protagonist:
[Picks up Bag placed on side of Table] You're carrying a Goya in a Harrods Bag.
Sir Michael Crosby:
It's a Fake by a Spaniard named Arepo. One of the two we've confiscated from an embezzler in Bern.
The Protagonist:
What happened to the other one?
Sir Michael Crosby:
It turned up at Shipley's. Authenticated by Katherine Barton. Put on Auction. And who do you think bought it?
The Protagonist:
Her Husband?
Sir Michael Crosby:
Mmm-hmm.
The Protagonist:
Does she know it's a forgery?
Sir Michael Crosby:
Oh, It's Hard to Say. Rumor has it that she and Arepo were close.
The Protagonist:
Uh-Huh.
Sir Michael Crosby:
Look, No Offense, But in this world, when someone is claiming to be a Billionaire...[Points at the Protagonist's Suit]...Brooks Brothers won't cut it.
The Protagonist:
I'm assuming I'm on a budget.
Sir Michael Crosby:
Save the World, Then we'll balance the books. [Hands Protagonist his Credit Card to buy better clothes] Can I recommend a Tailor?
The Protagonist:
I'll manage. You British don't have a monopoly on snobbery, you know.
Sir Michael Crosby:
Well, Not a Monopoly. More of a Controlling Interest. [The Protagonist Stands up to leave]
Steward at Restaurant:
[Walks up with Waiter who has the Protagonist's Food in Hand]
The Protagonist:
Could you box that up for me?
Steward at Restaurant:
Certainly Not.
Sir Michael Crosby:
[Mouths Goodbye to the Protagonist]
The Protagonist:
Goodbye, Sir Michael.
