"Accomplices?"
"A man whose identity we have not yet determined killed him."
"Christ! This sounds like Jack Ruby."
"Yes," the director of the Secret Service said in a sincere voice, "it sounds very much like Ruby. Yes, indeed."
"So we have to assume a conspiracy?"
"I would not assume anything at this point. We are running the man's prints and should have something shortly."
"Is there anything else I should know?" the President asked.
"I have a great many loose facts, but again I caution you against trying to make a clear picture out of disconnected pieces of the jigsaw."
"Is there a motive? Any indications of confederates or claims of responsibility?"
"No claims. But it's just a matter of hours. Once details get out, the usual terroristic cells and fringe political splinter groups will all be claiming credit. And, of course, we have to look out for the copycat factor-"
The President frowned.
"Bad choice of words. You know what I mean, emulators. There is always someone who thinks there's glory in finishing a job another guy blew."
"I know," the President said somberly.
"I would like to recommend that you keep a low profile over the next week. At least a week."
"I have universal health care to push."
At that moment the First Lady came rushing in without bothering to knock.
"This just came off the net," she said breathlessly.
The printout was slapped on the desk. The President looked at it briefly.
He handed it back to the First Lady and said, "See to it. Tonight."
"What good will renting an old Jimmy Stewart movie do?" the First Lady asked testily.
"Trust me on this one."
The director of the Secret Service looked interested. "Is there something here I should be apprised of?" he asked politely.
"No!" the President and the First Lady said with equal vehemence.
The director looked at them both. As the First Lady marched from the Oval Office, he leaned forward and said, "Mr. President, if I am to do my job, I need to know that I have your full confidence."
"You do. Your agents do not. I want the White House detail rotated out. Everyone except Capezzi. He saved my life."
The director swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."
"And I want the incoming detail agents closely watched."
"By whom?"
"Other agents. Work it out. I want no more incidents like this afternoon. It's bad enough the nation thinks its President has been blown away by some crazy. But if it gets out the Secret Service almost did him in, it will sound to the world as if there's a coup brewing."
"Don't even say that word," the director said fervently as he stood up to go.
Chapter 16
"How was your flight?" asked Remo when the Master of Sinanju stepped from the gate at Washington National.
"The wing did not fall off," said Chiun, his face a composed web of deep seams.
"A lucky streak like that can't go on forever."
"It has not. I was forced to sit near a very rude and unimportant woman."
"Tough. All the way down I had to hear about how evil assassins are."
"Ignorance blights this land like no other," said Chiun, walking along with his hands tucked safely into the sleeves of his kimono. "I understand the puppet lives."
"Yeah. But he's not out of the woods yet." Eyeing the lavender silk, Remo said, "I hope you came with a few spare kimonos."
"You never hope that."
"Normally. But Smith is coming down. And he specifically asked that we avoid attracting attention."
"It would be better if enemies knew that the House of Sinanju had come to protect him."
"We can protect him in a quieter kimono than lavender."
When they reached the baggage carousel, the Master of Sinanju undertoned, "There is the rude one."
Remo stared. "Isn't that Pepsie Dobbins?"
"I did not ask her unimportant name," sniffed Chiun.
"Yeah, that's her."
"She demanded my seat, claiming she was more important that me."
"Not since she blew the report on the President, from what I hear. People want to see her strung up."
"I have put her in her place, do not fear."