"No gold, despite what you may have heard."
"Gold? Who said anything about gold?"
The agent had reached the bottom of the steps and was splashing the beam of a flashlight about like a blind fool.
"No one said anything about gold," Chiun countered. "And if you turn around and poke your long nose elsewhere, no harm will befall you"
The agent was dashing the light about, trying to pin down the source of the Master of Sinanju's voice. He seemed not to realize that it was impossible to touch the Master of Sinanju even with a harmless beam of light if the Master of Sinanju did not choose to be touched.
Still, he persisted with both his light and his prying questions. "What's down here?"
"It is a simple basement. No more."
"I smell something funny ...."
"It is beef. You reek of it."
"Smells like burned plastic."
"You have a good nose, considering its length."
"Look, as an agent of the Internal Revenue Service, I order you to stop horsing around and step into my light!"
"This is an order?"
"It is."
"I hear and obey."
The Master of Sinanju stepped into the light. It touched his chest, swung up and illuminated his wise face.
The man blurted, "You're that crazy Chinaman."
"I am neither crazy nor Chinese, beef-brained one."
"I hereby place you under arrest."
"You cannot do that."
"As an agent of the Treasury Department, I am empowered to detain any United States citizen."
"Then it is too bad that I am not a United States denizen."
"You'll have to prove that in court. You're under arrest."
The Master of Sinanju said, "Cuff me, if you dare."
"I don't carry handcuffs" And the white man from the IRS reached out to profane the Master of Sinanju's outstretched wrists with his unwashed hands as if to haul him away like some common thief.
The Master of Sinanju made quick, dazzling motions with his hands that momentarily confused the white clod, whose fingers became entangled in one another. It was plain from the look on his face that he did not understand what was happening to him.
And so when the Master of Sinanju sent out a tiny fist that was as hard as a wooden mallet, the white's dull wits never saw the blow coming that struck his chest and jellied his heart.
He collapsed, his nostrils leaking a sigh like a balloon losing air.
The Master of Sinanju left him at the foot of the steps as a warning to others of his ilk that to trespass into the basement of Fortress Folcroft was to die.
He hoped he would not have to dispatch too many before they understood the meaning of this act. White corpses emitted the most disagreeable odors after the fourth day, and he did not want his gold to pick up the stink, like butter left near beef.
"YOU KILLED an IRS agent," Remo exploded when he nearly tripped over the body at the foot of the stairs. "For God's sake, why?"
"He offended me," said Chiun, turning away.
"You don't kill a government agent because he offended you."
"I did not kill the wretch," Chiun sniffed. "He killed himself. He reached out to profane the Master of Sinanju's personage with his grubby hands. Were he educated, he would have understood such an act to be the equal to committing suicide. It is the fault of your public schools, where they teach useless trivia like geometry and speaking the tongue of the French."
"So you're just going to leave him here?"
Chiun made a dismissive gesture with the flapping sleeve of his kimono. "Of course. Let it be a warning to the others."
"Warning? They're the IRS. You can't wave them off. They keep coming and coming. Like killer bees."
"I do not fear their sting, for I am not an American denizen, and thus not subject to their burdensome taxes."
"Yeah? Well, if they find that gold down here, they're not going to tax it. They'll confiscate it all."
Chiun whirled, face hard. "They cannot do that. It is my gold."
"Some of it is Smith's, remember? He got his share of Friend's gold, too. And some of it is mine."
Chiun made his tiny mouth tinier. "The smallest portion is yours."
"Thanks to you gypping me out of it."
Chiun shooed the comment away. "He who dwells in the past has no future."
Remo waved a piece of paper in Chiun's averted face. "Check this out."
Chiun took it. "Where did you obtain this drawing?"
"A police artist. It's my mother."
Chiun looked up from the drawing. "She is very beautiful, Remo."
Remo's face softened. "I think so, too."