"For the lunatic."
"Hey, what's going on?" asked the man with the scar. As Remo and Chiun left, Chiun was still pleading. Just speak once to the man. Just once. That was all Chiun asked. If, after talking to the king, Remo said no, then no it would be. After all, it was not like leaving America. New Jersey was part of America even if America wasn't all that happy about it.
Remo locked the door of the padded cell behind him. Several large orderlies appeared in the hallway. "Dr. Smith said there are three criminally insane here. That the room?"
Remo nodded.
"You're lucky you got out of there alive. Those guys are going to be separated from the world for life," said the orderly.
"I'm a doctor. I know how to handle these things."
"Dr. Smith said they killed the last two doctors who tried to treat them."
"But not us,'' said Remo.
The orderlies unfolded three straitjackets and entered the padded room.
"All I ask is a single introduction, a mere hello. Just to speak to this king," said Chiun.
"No," said Remo.
"Then there is nothing I can do with you, Remo. I have saved you once and saved you again, all without thanks. I cannot take this anymore. I must go where I am respected. Good-bye."
"Where are you going?"
"To the king who knows the value of an assassin. If he pays such dolts as the ones we have locked up, can you imagine the gold he will shower on Sinanju?"
"What are you going to do with all that gold?"
"Replace that which was stolen, restock that which you would not help me recover. That is what I will do for a start."
By the time Remo got to Smith's office, Chiun was long gone. Remo was feeling somewhat angry, definitely disturbed, and not too sure of what he wanted to do.
He was glad Smith was alive, even if he talked incessantly about the incredible compromise of all the bodies strewn from coast to coast and his plan to move the organization from Folcroft to a large bank in midtown Manhattan. Suddenly Smith's tribulations seemed like small talk to Remo.
"Who were those men?" asked Smith.
"There is a lunatic who thinks he is a king, named Harrison Caldwell. Lives on an estate in New Jersey. Has people fighting to the death to win a position from him."
"Caldwell. The name has come up. Why does he want us?"
"I don't know."
Smith punched the name and a code into his computer terminal. Caldwell, Harrison, indeed had a record in the organization's files. Somehow, quite suspiciously, this man had amassed an incredible fortune-enough of a fortune to build his own little country within a country. He also got rich much too quickly-even for a gold digger. CURE kept track of these quick fortunes.
"He's a bullionist," added Smith.
"I think he's making gold. I think he's the one. It's done with uranium."
"Then he's the one who's stealing it," said Smith.
"Exactly," said Remo.
"And guess who has just been appointed chairman of the Nuclear Control Agency."
"The fox in charge of the henhouse," said Remo. "Well, I think that explains why he could conduct such an incredibly complex campaign to track us down. He has the money to do it."
"Remo, I think it would be good if you took care of this matter, now."
"Okay," said Remo, but there was hesitation in his voice.
"Anything wrong?"
"No," said Remo, who was wondering how he would take on Chiun. He had never begged Chiun before and he wasn't sure begging would work now.
Chapter 13
In the court of Harrison Caldwell Chiun found true and perfect happiness. The man accepted the Oriental's laudations and tributes of voice. And he responded with gold, promising to ship, or to lay it before Chiun in a vast pile.
There were, of course, a few amateur assassins to be proven imcompetent, but that was no trouble. The breath of lotus blows took care of them and the lotus variation, always a favorite with Westerners who liked to see hands move, pleased the king greatly.
But this king said he had known of Chiun, if not by name then by deed. For did he not have a white partner recently? Chiun answered, indeed he did, and that to work for a wise king like Harrison Caldwell meant a long life.
For this king was the very man whose face had appeared on television, calling for an end to random violence. And Chiun had always believed this was just the sort of man who would appreciate a great assassin.
The king even supplied an elegant little chair for Chiun. And all of this-the gold, the chair, the honor-came before Chiun even had a chance to look around. But who had to look around? One knew royalty when one saw it.
And then Remo came, rudely came. He barged right into the throne chamber, pushing aside guards.
"We see your partner has come," said His Majesty Harrison Caldwell.
"We will both serve you," said Chiun. "Two are better than one."
"I will not," said Remo. He hadn't even bowed to His Majesty. He stood there in his slacks and T-shirt, his hands on his hips, uncouth beyond reason, an embarrassment to the House of Sinanju.
Chiun rose quickly from his special stool. He pushed his way through several courtiers and got Remo into a corner.
"Are you mad?" he hissed. "This is a king, a real king, with real gold, and real tribute. He even has a chair for his assassin. Keep your peace. Let us enjoy decent work for once. See how it is to be well-treated."
"Have you looked around?"
"I see all I need to see."
"Have you looked at his standards?"
"We are here to defend them, not gaze upon them."