"I notice that this route avoids passing the Prince Regent's office," he commented.
"I know, Chiun," Remo sighed. "And before you start on me, too, I admit it. I think the kid's okay. He was pretty stand-up for us in Sinanju when he didn't have to be. Smitty is doing a good jab bringing him onto the team. He's working out. There, I said it. Happy?"
In the lobby Remo's raised voice caught the attention of a receptionist and two nurses. The receptionist recognized Chiun as a former patient who occasionally stopped back at Folcroft to visit. She thought Remo to be his nurse. Her frown of disapproval at Remo's raised voice was interrupted by a ringing telephone. She was answering the phone as the two men slipped by.
"I am pleased to hear that," the Master of Sinanju said. "Since one day you will be the Regent's royal assassin."
"Can't happen, Chiun," Remo said, shaking his head firmly. "I'm not getting too chummy with the kid because Sinanju rules forbid me from working for Smith's successor."
"Do not be so certain, white man," Chiun said knowingly.
"And here we go," Remo said. "Back to that famous loophole you claim you discovered ages ago and refuse to tell me about."
Chiun smiled slyly. "Are you not the least bit curious?"
"Yeah, I guess. I mean, the way you manage to contort supposedly unbendable rules into pretzel shapes always fascinates me. But just 'cause I like to watch the magician saw the woman in half doesn't mean I'll be running to the nearest Tupperware party with a chain saw. Rules are rules."
"They are not always as inviolate as you seem to think," Chiun replied. "Take your Smith, for instance. You agree that everyone finds him mad?"
"I don't agree with that."
"As I said," Chiun sniffed. "No one of consequence disputes his madness. And yet we have served him well lo these many years. Your House has not always had such tolerance for crazed emperors."
Remo's brow furrowed. "What does that mean?"
"It means that rules are only sometimes rules. Other times they are guidelines. It is for the wise to know the difference. Thankfully, you have me here to point the way."
He swept ahead of his pupil, through a set of fire doors and into Folcroft's administration wing. Watching his teacher's purposeful stride, Remo smiled. "Amen to that, Little Father," he said, shaking his head.
Allowing the fire door to slip from his fingers, he trailed the wizened Korean up the hall.
SMITH ALWAYS KEPT a change of clothes at work just in case. He had been more than eager to slip out of his golf clothes and back into his more familiar uniform
Back in his three-piece gray suit and starched white shirt-green-striped school tie knotted tightly at the collar -he was hard at work in his familiar Folcroft environs. Day had bled into night, and still Harold W. Smith remained at his desk.
The CURE director had scarcely noted the change of hour or scattering of daylight. He was far too busy monitoring the events taking place along the East Coast.
There had been many more incidents throughout the afternoon. And the tristate area was no longer alone. There had been like occurrences in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. To Smith, the pattern indicated a product being shipped by ground. He had already come to this conclusion even before Remo had phoned back to suggest Lubec Springs bottled water was the source of contamination.
Smith's desk was an onyx slab set before the big picture window at the back of the office. Beneath its surface was a canted monitor, visible only to whoever sat at the desk. A keyboard at desk's edge only became visible when it sensed Smith's touch. Keys lit obedient amber flashes in response to his relentless drumming fingers.
He had been working for hours nonstop. All at once, Smith paused at his workstation.
The lines of amber text on his special monitor were beginning to blur again.
Blinking hard, he removed his rimless glasses. He massaged his eyes with the tips of his arthritic fingers. Looking to a point across the room, he tried to regain his focus.
The thing he stared at was a drab black-and-white photograph of Folcroft, taken some time in the 1950s. It had been hung in the office by the sanitarium's previous administrator.
Smith had never thought to take down the picture, never considered bringing in something of a more personal nature from home. The CURE director felt that any infusion of one's personality into a work area had the effect of making that area too comfortable. And comfort bred lax work habits.
Besides, Smith's office did reflect his personality. It was cold, humorless and Spartan. The room was a direct, if inadvertent, gaze into the soul of the gray old man in the gray three-piece suit who sat in isolation at the loneliest posting in all of America's intelligence services.
Smith's eyes began to clear. The young saplings in the photograph, which had grown into mighty shade trees during Smith's tenure at Folcroft, were starting to come into focus.
He replaced his glasses and was turning back to his keyboard when the door to his office unexpectedly burst open. Smith looked up with a concerned start.
"Hope you're decent," Remo announced as he strode into the room. Chiun swept in after him.
"He is that and more," the Master of Sinanju proclaimed, personally insulted by Remo's choice of words. "He is decent, kind and generous. Hail, Smith, guardian of the sacred Constitution." The Korean gave an informal bow before sweeping across the room.
At his desk, Smith was still recovering from his initial shock. He offered a hurried bow of his head. "Please shut the door," he said to Remo. "And I wish you would knock."
"And miss that look on your face?" Remo said, swinging the door shut. "By the way, if you want to look a little more guilty, why not try wearing a black mask and an I Violated The Constitution And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt shirt?"
As he crossed over to Smith's desk, he dug in the pocket of his chinos, pulling out an aspirin bottle. "A little present from Catwoman," he said, tossing the bottle to Smith.
The CURE director caught it with both hands. Liquid sloshed inside. "This is the police station sample you phoned about, I assume?" he queried dryly.
"Yep. We dumped the rest down the drain." Smith placed the bottle to one side of his desk. "We will test this if it becomes necessary. When you called, I sent Mark to my country club to collect samples there. They have been rushed off for analysis."
"The kid's not here?"
"I instructed him to remain at the lab conducting the tests. I wanted him on-site the instant there is news."
"The news is what Remo has already told you, Emperor," Chiun said. "The creatures that have twice vexed your kingdom have returned. Fortunately, with Sinanju as sword and shield, you need not fear any common jungle beasts."
Tucking his black robes around him, the Master of Sinanju sank to a lotus position in the center of the threadbare carpet.
"Yeah, go-go team," Remo said. "In the meantime, you've put a stop to the Lubec Springs shipments. So once you have all the stuff that's been shipped recalled, I guess we won't have to worry about any more of those things."
A troubled frown crossed the CURE director's face.
"You did have this stuff recalled, right, Smitty?"
"I have not," Smith replied tightly.
Remo's face darkened. "Why the hell not? In case you haven't heard, we've got Daktari breaking out on Main Street, U.S.A. and there's a run on safari jackets at Banana Republic. You've got to cut them off. While you do that, Chiun and I will go to that bottling place in Maine and pull White's plug."
"You can't," Smith insisted. "Not yet." He leaned back in his chair. "Remo, the nature of this crisis dictates caution. If Lubec Springs is alone in this, then we can focus on them alone. But if the contamination has reached other bottlers, then whoever is behind this could be anywhere. By focusing on Lubec Springs before we know all the facts, we could be alerting Judith White or whoever is responsible. We can't afford to tip our hand too early."
"You're just gonna let people keep drinking that junk?"
"Through CURE's facilities I have given an order ostensibly from the FDA. A new federal mandate now requires a forty-eight-hour waiting period before retailers can sell bottled water. This to allow for settlement of particulates. Given the relatively low number of cases so far, I would imagine that most outlets have not yet reached the contaminated shipments. They must yet have back stock to go through. With any luck, this should buy us the time we need to track down and eliminate whoever is behind this."
"We know who it is, Smitty," Remo said. "By dicking around down here, you're giving White time to get away."