“Because you instructed me not to mention Tirov to you again, and I took you seriously.”

—

Still in the back of his car in Los Angeles, Tirov reached his attorney, who had been sound asleep. “Kim, something terrible has happened.”

“I know, I read the Times this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is, Boris?”

“I’m sorry, I’m just off a plane from London, and I have no idea.”

“Well, as long as I’m awake, let me give you my best advice. You are going to be besieged by the press for days over this. Are you at home?”

“I’m on the way home in my car.”

“Well, don’t be surprised if you find them camped on your doorstep when you get there.”

“Oh, shit! What am I going to say?”

“You are going to say that, on advice of your attorney, you have nothing whatever to say at this time. You may say that, after taking legal advice, you might be filing suit against a number of people over the propagation of these outrageous lies.” He paused, waited for a reply, and got none. “Boris, these are outrageous lies, aren’t they?”

Boris thought about that. “It’s complicated,” he said.

“Complicated? You had damned well better not say that to the media. You get some sleep, if you can, then you, your agent, and your publicist be in my office at, let’s see, eleven o’clock, and together we’ll figure out how to handle this. I should tell you that I had a call this afternoon from the head of your new studio saying that the signing of contracts is on hold, and that you are to say nothing to the press until you have talked with their counsel. Come to think of it, I’d better ask him to join us. Now, Boris, go home, get some rest, and I’ll see you all at eleven o’clock.” He hung up.

—

As Tirov’s car turned into his front drive, a swarm of a dozen people, some of them with lights and cameras, eddied around his car. “Get us inside!” Tirov yelled at his driver, and the gates were already swinging open. Once through the gates, they began to swing shut again and the crowd, being intimately acquainted with the laws of trespass, hurried to get outside before being trapped inside.

The car pulled to a halt at the front door, followed by the baggage van. Tirov got out, expecting his butler to be at the door, but then he remembered that he had not warned his staff that he was being detained at the airport. He fumbled for his house key, finally found it, and went into the house. His minions began taking luggage upstairs, while Tirov headed for his home office. There was one phone call he had to make, and right now.