"Knock or kick?"
Chiun considered, his facial wrinkles quivering. "We must not alarm him, lest he commit seppuku."
"Knock it is." Remo knocked. "Maintenance! Gotta look at your john!"
His ear to the door, Chiun listened. "He is ignoring us," he whispered.
"Bad move on his part," said Remo, knocking again. "Maintenance man!"
Chiun withdrew and his eyes narrowed. "Await me."
Then he disappeared around the corner.
Remo figured Chiun was going to the balcony to cover that escape route. But when the hotel fire alarm started buzzing, he wasn't sure what to do at first.
Chiun flashed around the corner, eyes excited, demanding, "Has he emerged?"
"No. And don't tell me you threw the alarm!"
"It will flush him out."
It didn't. Instead, other doors flew open, including one that disgorged Melvis Cupper, wearing his NTSB Stetson and boxer shorts decorated with longhorn skulls.
"What's doin'?" he asked sleepily.
Chiun shushed him. He placed his ear to the door panel, listening. His face broke apart in shock.
"He has escaped! " he squeaked. "I hear no heartbeat."
Remo slammed the door with his palm, and it jumped off its hinges with such force it rebounded into the hall. Chiun plucked Melvis out of its path just in time. Remo ducked into the room, moving low in case a sword ambush waited him.
He found instead an empty room. The TV was on, showing coverage of the derailment less than a mile away. On the bed sat a heavy stainless-steel box with carrying straps and assorted switches and buttons on top. It was half in and half out of a black leather bag Remo recognized immediately.
It was the ronin's head bag.
On the end table the telephone was off the hook.
A check of the bathroom and closets showed them to be empty. There was no connecting door to adjoining rooms.
"I'm getting a flash of deja vu here," Remo said. He went to the telephone, scooping it up.
"Hello?" he said.
He got a rush of static, indicating an open line.
"Anybody there?"
"Try moshi moshi, " hissed Chiun.
"Moshi moshi," said Remo into the receiver.
The static hissed on. Remo hung up.
"I'll be switched," said Melvis, hefting the steel box on the bed. "If this ain't one of them newfangled RC units. See? It's got that little silver ball on the transmit-power switch just like that fickle little filly said."
Chiun floated up, took one look and said, "Behold, Remo. It says Nishitsu."
"Damn Japs will be making our engines before you know it," muttered Melvis.
Going to the telephone, Chiun picked up the receiver and hit Redial.
The phone started ringing.
When the other end lifted, a thin voice said, "Nishitsu."
Remo's and Chiun's eyes met.
Chiun hissed a question in Japanese, and the voice challenged him in the same language. An argument ensued, at the end of which the Master of Sinanju hung up, ripped the telephone from its wall socket and flung it through the glass balcony door and into the pool, where it caused a fat man to roll off his inflatable sea horse.
"Nice going, Little Father," Remo complained. "Now they know we're on to them."
"The better to strike fear into their craven hearts," spit Chiun.
"Let's find out where our ronin ended up."
BACK IN THE LOBBY the desk clerk wasn't as cooperative as before.
"We need the phone charges for 3-C," he said.
"Can't you see I have my hands full?" said the distraught clerk, who was explaining to the unhappy hotel guests that the commotion was only a false alarm.
Remo placed one hand on his shoulder and took his tie in the other. "Show you a trick."
The tie became a blur, and when Remo stepped back, the clerk's hands were dangling just beneath his Adam's apple, held together by a tight paisley knot that had been his tie.
The clerk tried to extricate himself. The harder he pulled, the redder his face became. When it shaded toward purple, he realized he was strangling himself and stopped. The purple went away, replaced by a helpless expression.
"Room charges," Remo repeated. "Three-C."
"Uggg," the clerk said, pointing with both hands to an open office door where a freckled redhead chewed gum at a switchboard.
"Much obliged," said Melvis, tipping his hat.
The hotel operator provided the last number dialed and told them Mr. Batsuka had checked in only a few hours before.
"Got a first name?"