"Just tired," the Emir said.
149
îl
"Rest," she said. "I will sit with you."
"And he will be about his majesty's work," Chiun
said.
From the doorway, Remo called to Sarra. "You know what to do?"
"Yes," she said. "I do not understand, but I will do it."
And even as Chiun and Remo were going down the stairs toward their waiting boat, Princess Sarra busied herself in the Emir's room, lighting candles. Candles taken from all over the house. She lit them on the dresser and near the windows and on the small end tables and desk and on the mantle.
As their boat powered away from the main dock, and turned behind the small island, Remo saw the flickering of candles in the Emir's room, and smiled to himself. Elmo Wimpler might have a de-
would be just another little man in a black suit, and Princess Sarra, with Pakir's revolver, would blow him into pieces. The Emir was safe.
As their boat moved quietly, slowly toward the dark silhouette against the dark, nighttime sky, Remo said to Chiun, "You are really fond of him, aren't you?"
"He was the holder of a great throne," Chiun said. "He has been replaced by jackals who have neither his courage nor his character. They will, in the sacred name of 'the people,' exalt mediocrity,
150
stupidity, and brutality. I would have a monarchy every time."
"Why?" Remo asked. "Monarchies can be mediocre, stupid, and brutal too."
"But if they are, they can be changed with the disposal of one man. Because of this, the best mon-archs know that they must rule with intelligence and compassion. This man was one of the best. The poor people of his nation will soon know how much of a man he was. Shhhhh. We approach."
Remo cut the engines. The boat continued drifting toward the larger boat, anchored some 40 yards ahead of them.
Elmo Wimpler had only taken a little while to decide with what weapon to replace his confiscated skull-crasher.
A knife.
vice that could short-circuit lightbulbs, but it would M ^visible knife which would, however, pro-
take a lot of concentrated puffs of air to blow out ducg
all those candles. And while he was doing it, he J. .
He had treated three different knives with his
paint, and fashioned a belt with large loops so he could wear them all on his waist. He would, when he had the time, practice throwing them. It would make him even more deadly, working in the dark, and without the telltale flash of flame that would give away his position if he used a gun.
He buckled his belt. It was time.
Time to ice an Emir.
He walked toward the front of the boat. And then he heard it.
A voice.
It was the American.
151
"Anybody home?" it called. "Ready or not, here . «,»!.,, ¦ a
we come " ' ltsa11 over' Elmo> the taI1 one said-
They had felt themselves drift into the boat, but
,. ,,, , . ...„ « No. No. Not now. Not ever,
up close, without the boat outlmed black against the
sky, they could not see it. He and Chiun climbed out of their small boat, going up the side of Wimpler's craft, finding handholds and toeholds where none
could be seen i knife struck the Oriental in the chest—hilt first.
He couldn't believe his eyes. Climbing over the • Damn.
side of the boat, stepping onto the deck, were those two from the park. The American and the Oriental. They had found him.
Elmo Wimpler shrank back into the shadows, crouching down in a corner of the rear deck. He couldn't let them interfere. Not now. Not when he was so close.
He waited until they were both on deck. Then quietly he drew one of his knives. They began to walk about the boat when he noticed something.
Their feet made no sound as they walked.
But normal men should have made sounds as they walked around a wooden deck. Were they . . . something more than normal?
He put the thought out of his mind. He had no time. He had to get rid of them and get on to the Emir.
He stood up and took a step toward the American. And both men turned in his direction as if they
had heard him. «I Now. Within easy reach.
He had made no sound. How had they known? ¦
The Oriental pointed directly at him and said: "There?"