"I'm a counterassassin."
Chiun puffed out his tiny cheeks. "That is the same as saying anti-Sinanju."
Remo blinked. "I never thought of it like that."
"You never think. That is the problem. Come, I am not finished rooting out those who conspire against the puppet President."
"What have you uncovered so far, besides the chef?"
"The Shrill Queen."
"I don't think it's her. The President dies, and she's out on the street."
"There are ways to circumvent the line of succession. Have you noticed that the President of Vice is nowhere to be found since the events of yesterday?"
"According to Smitty, the Vice President had been told to stay clear of the White House for the duration."
"Ha! The puppet suspects him."
"No, it's just that things are so crazy no one wants them to be in the same place at the same time in case a bomb goes off."
"Who is next after him?"
"The Speaker of the House, I think."
"Then he should die."
"Why?"
"If he dies and the madness ceases, we will be vindicated."
"Better check with Smith before you do the Speaker of the House," said Remo.
"Where is Smith?"
"Out investigating."
"The culprit skulks within these walls. It is always thus."
"We'll see," said Remo.
THEY FOUND Harold Smith in the Secret Service command post within the hour.
"Who is guarding the President?" Smith asked sharply.
"Capezzi. The President's trying to plan his trip to Boston, and Chiun kept distracting him."
"I did not," Chiun flared.
Remo noticed Smith had two video monitors set side by side on a desk and was reviewing a tape on one.
"Got anything?" he asked Smith.
"I am reviewing the White House roof-camera tapes from yesterday."
"Looking for anything in particular?"
Smith nodded his gray head. "For whoever inserted the fake Socks into the White House grounds."
Remo and Chiun watched Smith watch tape for some twenty minutes before a moving camera panned across the Pennsylvania Avenue fence and they saw the homeless man in the taped sunglasses and black baseball cap.
He was walking along between the iron fence and the concrete bollards set in the sidewalk and linked by segments of chain to foil truck bomb attacks.
The camera panned back and forth, losing the homeless man several times. When it swept back, it caught him kneeling at the fence. His hand came out of his shabby rain coat, and a black-and-white cat was shoved between the fence rails.
"Hey!" Remo said. "That's gotta be the fake Socks."
Smith hit the Pause button.
The image blurred the man's body severely. Smith advanced the tape frame by frame. Finally he got a still picture of the man's face.
Remo and Chiun leaned into the screen.
"That's a big help. All I see are sunglasses and beard stubble."
"On the contrary, it is a very big help," said Smith, hitting the Play button on the adjoining machine. The second the tape rolled, he stabbed Pause.
Smith tapped the face of a cameraman on the second tape and asked, "Would you say that this man is the same as this other man?"
"Hard to see with all that stubble," said Remo. "One's wearing a Dodgers cap and the other says CI something."
Chiun said, "Yes, they are the same. You can tell by the jowls. "
Remo said, "Yeah, the shape of the lower face is about the same. Kinda fatty and soft. Who is he?"
"I do not know," said Smith, releasing the Pause button to show the man filming the opening of the Presidential limousine door. "But observe his actions."
The door opened, the cameraman swung his camera away and pointed it skyward.
Then the Secret Service agent stepped out and got his head shot clean through.
"Hey!" said Remo. "That guy took a picture of the sniper."
"Exactly," said Smith, shutting down both machines.
"He knew the shot was coming," said Remo.