"He's an Abner Buell. That's all I know. I don't know if he's the Abner Buell. I don't even know who the Abner Buell is. An. But I think I know where he went. We're going there now."
"We?"
"The girl I'm with."
"Does she know who you are?" Smith asked.
"No. She thinks I work for the post office. No. The phone company."
"Get rid of her then," Smith said.
"She knows Buell's voice."
"And you know his name. I'm sure you'll be able to figure it out when you meet him. Get rid of her."
"Okay," Remo said.
"Where is Buell now?" Smith asked.
"I think he's got a place in Carmel. That's in California."
"Let me see if I can find it," Smith said. He fiddled with his computer. "Do you know how I found out the address in Malibu?"
"No," Remo said.
"Do you care?" Smith asked.
"Not even one whit," Remo said.
Smith snorted. "I've got an address in Carmel. It's probably his."
"I'll try it," Remo said and Smith gave him the address.
"By the way, Remo. Buell's got a very interesting background. Are you interested?"
"No."
"I beg your pardon," Smith said.
"That's okay," Remo said.
"What is okay?"
"Look. You asked me if I was interested in Buell's background. I said no. Does it have to get more complicated than that?"
"I guess not," Smith said slowly.
"Then we're done," Remo said.
"Remember. The man is capable of causing World War III. He's come very close in the last few days. Extreme measures are called for," Smith said.
"You mean, make pate out of him."
"I mean make sure he can never do this again."
"Same thing," Remo said. "Good-bye."
* * *
Pamela Thrushwell was not pleased.
"I'm sorry," she said curtly, in her crispest British accent, "but I'm going."
"No, you're not. I'll handle this myself."
"No, thank you very much. I'm going, I said."
"And I said you're not," Remo said.
"Then I'll call the papers and tell them everything that's going on. Would you like that?"
"You wouldn't do that," Remo said.
"How are you going to stop me? Kill me?"
"It's a thought," Remo admitted.
"How will your superiors like that?" she asked.
"After the initial furor dies down, they'll raise the price of stamps. That's what they always do."
"You said you worked for the phone company, not the post office."
"I meant the price of a telephone call," Remo said.
"All right," she said. "You go. I don't need you. I can get a lift and go by myself."
Remo sighed. Why was everybody so intractable these days? Whatever happened to women who said yes and did what you wanted?"
"Okay. You can tag along. I guess that's the only way to keep you out of trouble."
"And you drive carefully," Pamela said.
"I will. I promise," Remo said. He also promised himself that when the appropriate time came, and he had Buell nailed, he would just leave Pamela on the side of the road somewhere and never see her again. As they left Malibu, going north along the coast highway, Pamela said, "Why'd you change your mind?"
"You've got a nice ass," Remo said.