"Any time. Maybe if you come back, you can tell me about your training."
"Even better," Remo said. "I might bring back
"That'd be great," Barden said.
"Wait until you meet him," Remo said.
As he went to the door, Barden handed him the latest copy of Contract. "Here. A freebie."
"Thanks a lot," Remo said. Chiun would be glad to get it.
After Remo left, Mark Simons came out of his office and hit Barden's desk with his fist.
"Who the hell was that?"
"Hey, he was cool, Mark. You wouldn't believe how strong that skinny guy is. Some special training and . . ."
"Who the hell was he and what did he want?"
"Take it easy," Barden said. "He just wanted to look at some of our ads."
"What ads?"
"The ones about killing the Emir."
"And you showed them to him?"
"I wasn't about to tell him no," Barden said.
"You're a moron, Hal," Simons said and went back to his office. He locked the door behind him.
110
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The name on the doorbell was James Riggs. Remo pushed his way through the locked downstairs door and walked up the steps to apartment 3-
A.
When he opened the door, Remo said, "Mr. Riggs, I'm here in answer to your ad."
"How'd you get my name?" Riggs asked. The man was tall, white haired, with tired, reddened eyes.
"Does it matter?" Remo said.
"The job has been filled," Riggs said.
"I can fill it better," Remo told him.
"I doubt it," the man said, looking sharply at Remo.
"Don't doubt it," Remo said.
"Look. I'm sorry, but the ad has been filled to my satisfaction. Good-bye."
He slammed the door shut.
Remo took the doorknob in his hand and bent it down until it snapped off on his side. Inside, he could hear the other half of the doorknob fall onto the floor of the hallway. Remo hit the door with the heel of his hand and it flew open.
James Riggs was standing five feet inside the apartment looking at the broken door, then at Remo, with fright in his eyes.
"Well, as long as you're in anyway."
Ill
"Thank you," Remo said. "Who filled the ad?"
"I don't really think . . ."
"Good. I'm used to dealing with people who don't think." Remo closed the door and brushed past Riggs into the apartment.
"If you don't leave, I'll call the police."
"Fine. I'll just tell them I came here to answer your advertisement for a murderer."
Riggs winced as Remo said the word "murderer." Finally he walked to a bar in the corner of the chrome and glass living room and poured himself a water tumbler full of Scotch. He drank half of it, then said, "I don't know. It was just a voice."
"You better explain this."
"I got a letter answering the ad. It told me to put a phone number in the Times. I did. I got a phone call from a man who told me to meet him in the Sheep Meadow last night at 1 a.m. I left my apartment to walk over there just around 12:40. The street was dark. He was waiting for me in the street. I couldn't see him. We negotiated a fee."
"How much?"
"A hundred thousand dollars."
"To kill the Emir?"
Riggs finished his drink, even as he was shaking his head.
"I didn't want the Emir killed."
"That's what your ad said," Remo pointed out.
"I just put that on it to attract attention. I figured anyone who'd tackle the Emir would be willing to take on a simple job like I had in mind. It was just a thought."
"Who did you really want hit?" Remo asked.