"Not from what I read. The town is practically a Third World hellhole, and no one can do anything about it."
Smith sighed like a leaky radiator valve. "If you stay on the line, I'll see what my system comes up with."
A dollar-fifty in change later, Smith's voice came back on the line.
"Remo, a man was killed yesterday in a bizarre fashion."
"It would have to be real bizarre to impress me. I've seen bizarre. I've done bizarre. What's your definition of bizarre?"
"He collapsed while crossing Seventh Avenue at Times Square and was found with his eyes and brains consumed by some as-yet-unknown agency."
"Sounds like the IRS to me."
Smith's voice actually winced audibly. "That is not funny."
"But it's true. You've been audited. Okay, it's bizarre. Where do I start?"
"I want you and Chiun-"
"Whoa! Where does Chiun fit into this?"
"The medical examiner who autopsied the victim died himself under strange circumstances. Chiun is an expert on exotic deaths, especially poisons. His knowledgeable eye might be useful."
"As long at that Korean battle-ax doesn't tag along," Remo growled, looking over his shoulder at Castle Sinanju.
"See that she does not," said Smith, and hung up.
RETURNING HOME, Remo broke the news to the Master of Sinanju.
"Smith's got an assignment for us."
"You go. I am busy."
Remo saw that the Master of Sinanju was sorting teas. Oolongs and Pekoes and greens in tin containers were arrayed about him on the floor. Chiun carefully opened and sniffed each container, disposing of stuff that had gone bad. He reminded Remo of King Croesus counting his wealth.
"Smith says you're needed on this one."
Chiun looked up, delight touching his wrinkled countenance. "Emperor Smith said that. Truly?"
"Yeah. A guy was killed somehow. When they found him, his brains and eyes were missing. Then the guy who did the autopsy died under mysterious circumstances."
"Someone does not wish the truth to be discovered."
"What truth?"
"The truth which we will soon discover."
"Smith said the second guy died of poison. You know about poisons. That's why your help is needed here," Remo explained.
The Master of Sinanju rose to his feet, a golden puffball with rose-stem limbs.
"I go where my emperor bids me to go," he intoned, his visage suffused with a golden pride.
"You go where he says because it keeps the gold flowing."
"Do not be crass, Remo."
"I call them as I see them."
"That is the motto of the crass."
THE MEDICAL EXAMINER in Manhattan examined Remo's Department of Health credentials, eyed the Master of Sinanju with a mixture of dubiousness and, nodding respectfully, he said, "I have not yet determined a cause of death."
"For which one-the victim or the guy who autopsied him?"
"Either. Come this way."
The two dead men occupied adjoining refrigerated drawers. Dr. Schiff-his card read Norman Schiff-pulled out the body of Doyal T. Rand first, and the Master of Sinanju bustled up to examine it critically.
"For all intents and purposes, this man's head has been emptied of all organic matter except for the skull bones," Dr. Schiff explained.
"What would do that?"
"This is so far into the realm of the unknown that I wouldn't venture a guess. But the brain matter showed signs my predecessor ascribed to having been thoroughly chewed."
"Chewed?"
"Chewed."
"Something ate his brain?" Remo asked.
"It would appear so."
The drawer rolled shut. Out came the cadaver of the chief medical examiner for Manhattan until that morning.
"I have found what appears to be an insect bite on Dr. Quirk's shoulder."
Chiun peered at the bite site and said, "A bad bee did this."
"Insect parts were found, but they were too small to support the bee theory."
"It was a very small bee," Chiun said.
Dr. Schiff frowned fiercely. "I am in contact with one of the most renowned entomologists in the country, and he says no bee that small exists in nature. Therefore, it was not a bee."
Chiun asked, "Where is the corpse of the bee?"