Borya knelt and put a gun to his ear. An Italian pistol, Arkady thought. “I owe you a lot more than that,” Borya said.

The gun wasn’t necessary. He rose, opened the passenger door of the Mercedes, lifted Arkady by the collar and the back of his belt—the same way drunks were toted out of football games—and threw him into the front seat, put the ball in back and slid behind the wheel. The car’s acceleration shut Arkady’s door.

Borya said, “If it were up to me, you’d be dead. You never would have left Moscow. If people saw us kill you, so what? We’d pay them off. I think there’s a self-destructive streak in Max.”

Arkady breathed shallowly. He hadn’t had the wind knocked out of him for so long that he had forgotten the utter helplessness. Flowers and vase were lost. His stomach still felt concave. He was aware that Borya was taking a scenic route along the River Spree, more or less in the direction of the sunset, maintaining just enough speed so that Arkady wouldn’t jump. Borya could have killed him by now.

Borya said, “Sometimes smart people overcomplicate. Great plans, no execution. What’s the classic example?” He snapped his fingers. “In that play.”

Arkady said, “Hamlet?”

“Hamlet, perfect. You don’t admire the ball forever, you kick it.”

“Like you kicked the Trabi off the road in Munich?”

“It could have solved our problems. It should have. When Rita told me you were still alive and that Max had brought you here, I honestly couldn’t believe it. What’s going on with you and Max?”

“I think he wants to prove he’s the better man.”

“No offense, but Max has everything and you have nothing.” Borya broke into a smile. “In the West that’s how it’s scored. He’s the better man.”

Arkady asked, “Who’s the better man, Borya Gubenko or Boris Benz?”

Borya’s smile spread into the grin of a boy caught stealing cookies. He fished out Marlboros and gave one to Arkady. “As Max says, we have to be new men for new times.”

Arkady said, “You needed a foreign partner for the joint venture and it was easier to create one than find one.”

Borya stroked the wheel. “I like the name Benz. It has a more reassuring sound than Gubenko. Benz is a man people want to do business with. How did you figure it out?”