"I believe you know what this means," he said. "It means that Smith's mania for secrecy does not sleep with him."
"No. The woman who's responsible for this outrage called Folcroft only hours ago, asking questions. We don't know what she wants. Or how much she knows about CURE. With Remo still on assignment, you are my only resource."
"Remo's assignment. It is not going well?"
"There are some problems. I believe I explained in my first message that Remo had gone undercover in a prison."
"That message was from you?"
"Ah, yes. I signed it 'Smith' so you would not be concerned."
"The second message was not signed at all," Chiun pointed out.
"A lapse on my part."
"I see," Chiun said vaguely. "Tell me of this assignment of Remo's. It is very unusual?"
"It's too complicated to explain," Ransome assured him. "But I expect him to remain there at least another three weeks, gathering evidence."
"I understand," Chiun said softly. But he thought: What madness is this? Remo is not a compiler of evidence. Such duties are for file clerks and detectives. Remo's task to is eliminate enemies.
"Here," Ransome was saying as he transferred his gaze from his computer screen to a notepad. He wrote furiously and handed the top sheet to the Master of Sinanju.
"Her name is Naomi Vanderkloot. That is her address. Eliminate her. Today."
"Do you wish it to appear as an accident, or would something more public be preferred?"
Ransome's mouth became a red rosebud. "Public?"
"Yes. Something to warn your enemies that such will be their fate should they dare uncover your secrets. "
"No. That would be counterproductive. But I don't mind if it's messy. In fact, why don't you make it look like a rape?"
Chiun stiffened. "A rape?"
"No, better," Ransome said, licking his pursy mouth. "Like she was gang-banged to death. Can you arrange that?"
"I will consider it," Chiun said distastefully.
"Excellent. By tonight. There's no telling what that woman is up to. I will make the arrangements for your travel. Please wait in the downstairs lobby."
"As you wish," the Master of Sinanju said, bowing formally. He noticed that the gesture went unheeded as Norvell Ransome picked up the telephone and began dialing.
Chiun withdrew. As he rode the elevator down, he looked again at the address on the sheet of paper Ransome had given him. He was not reading the address. He had memorized it at first glance. He was comparing the loops and swoops of the handwriting with the notation on Smith's forehead. They were the same. Chiun placed the scrap of paper in a hidden pocket of his kimono as he stepped into the lobby.
The guards looked at him warily, and he ignored them, for he was deep in thought.
It was unfortunate. If Smith died, it would be the end of Chiun's work in America, richest of Sinanju clients. The man called Norvell Ransome was hardly worthy of Sinanju service, but in time he could be educated in kingly ways. He was, in some respects-both good and bad-very much like Nero the Good. Too bad. There were so few Neros in the modern world....
Chapter 22
"Please don't leave me, I beg of you," Naomi Vanderkloot wailed.
"Do you mind?" Remo Williams said impatiently. "I need that foot to walk with. Let go."
"Not until you promise to stay. I want you."
"I can tell. I can't remember the last time I had a woman get down on her knees like this. Don't you feel embarrassed-you, a professor?"
"No. It's my mating strategy. In primate courting behavior, the female withholds her favors until she finds a male primate with whom she's willing to mix gene pools. You're him. For me, I mean. Take my genes. They're yours."
"I don't want your genes," Remo said, bending down and prying her fingers off his ankle. They jumped to his calf. Remo rolled his eyes ceilingward. "I've heard of women who fall for cons, but I never thought it would happen to me."
"That's not it at all," Naomi protested, hurt.
"Look. If I stay, will you behave? No more notebooks or pencils?"
"I swear."
"Okay. "
Naomi Vanderkloot jumped to her feet. Her face was a quarter-inch from Remo's. Her eyes were wide with appeal.
"Now?" she asked breathily. "I'm feeling very labial all of a sudden." That goofy smile came on again. Only this time it was more like a leer.
"Labial?" Remo said.
" 'Horny,' to you."
" 'Horny' I understand," Remo said. He was surprised at himself as they walked back to the bedroom. He was not looking forward to this at all....
An hour later, it was growing dark. Remo was lying back on the pillow, smoking thoughtfully. He was handling it better now.
"You probably think I'm some kind of space cadet, don't you?" Naomi asked quietly.
"Maybe. If I knew what a space cadet was."
"I'm not some ivory-tower type, you know. I don't just teach. My work at the Institute for Human Potential Awareness is important. We even do contract work for industry."
"Industry trying to design a better man these days?" Remo asked in a dry voice.
"No, human homogeneousness is not static. Population group studies show definite phenotypical trends. For example, people's rumps are getting wider."
"I hadn't heard that," Remo said, thinking: What a space cadet.
"It's no joke. We did work for the airline industry, measuring fannies so they would know how much to widen the next generation of airline seats."