Free The Boy Who Stole From the Dead by Orest Stelmach

of $477 million, or $1.3 million per room. They promptly went bankrupt and sold the hotel at a 60% discount. More than two decades later, the average cost for new luxury hotels was still less than $600,000 per room.
    As Nadia watched the foyer, discount was not a word that came to mind. On the contrary. When a banker chose the Four Seasons he was sending a specific message. His client wanted to hire the best and was willing to pay top dollar. Oh, she’d have to work for it, there was no question about that. The days of mediocrity being rewarded were over. The market collapse of 2008 saw to that. But Nadia wouldn’t have had it any other way. She enjoyed earning her money and she desperately needed the gig.
    Lunch was scheduled for 12:30 p.m. The banker showed up at 12:29 p.m. That was another promising sign. Deal oriented professionals usually raced from meeting to meeting and inevitably ran late. Punctuality implied the client demanded it. Such adherence to the client’s demands meant a lucrative revenue stream was at risk.
    When the man in pinstripes carrying a black valise saw Nadia, he sighed with exasperation. He headed straight toward her as though he’d studied her website. He was tall and slim with a weak jaw and a slippery complexion. He introduced himself as T. Bradley Ehren. He dumped his briefcase on the table. He didn’t offer his hand or a business card. He didn’t sit down, forcing Nadia to look up at him.
    “This is a complete waste of time,” he said. He flipped the briefcase on its end and worked the combination locks.
    “Nice to meet you, too,” Nadia said.
    He grunted. Popped the valise open. Pulled out a stack of papers and closed it.
    “Like I told you over the phone,” he said, “I’m conducting due diligence on behalf of my client. My client is contemplating certain transactions and he’s looking to hire someone.”
    “What kind of transactions?”
    “Obviously that’s privileged information. He’s interested in hiring the best financial analyst in the business but he needs a very particular set of skills. You come highly recommended. To him. Not to me.”
    “Then it’s a good thing he’s making the decisions.”
    “He’s looking for someone with a thorough understanding of financial accounting. An experienced analyst who can scrub the books.”
    “Yes.”
    “And someone who can speak Russian fluently. Passing knowledge of Ukrainian would be helpful, too.”
    “Yes,” Nadia said, though some technical vocabulary would be a challenge.
    “That reduces the candidate pool somewhat, though this is a global search. There are several excellent candidates in Europe.”
    “I’m confident I can compete.”
    Ehren laughed. “Industrials,” he said.
    “I beg your pardon?”
    “Industrials. The last requirement is that the analyst must have an intimate knowledge of global industrial companies. Your background is in energy, isn’t it?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then you see why this is a waste of time. I asked around. You have a good reputation and if you say you’re fluent in these languages I have no doubt you are or you’d be found out quickly. But the industrial expertise…”
    “Is of secondary importance,” Nadia said. “Financial statements are financial statements.”
    “Really? Let’s see about that.” He organized his documents into three stacks and dumped them in front of Nadia. “These are audited financial statements for three industrial companies. You can see the black magic markings at the top. The names of the companies have been redacted. All you have are the balance sheet, income statement, and statement of changes in financial position for the last five years. One is in English. Two are in Russian.”
    Nadia frowned. “Is this a homework assignment?”
    “No, Nadia. This is a test.”
    “A what?”
    “A test. A real time, live test.”
    “I’m a professional. I haven’t taken a test since interviewing for my first job.”
    “Great. I’ll tell my client