"I'm coming to it, Remo," she said. "First, he told me to have Alvin eliminate Pell. He said it was the only way to save myself."
"And so at great sacrifice to yourself, and even more to Pell, you did it," Remo suggested.
"Your being sarcastic doesn't help," Sashur said.
"Gee, I'm sorry. I must have lost my manners back there when those kids were trying to kill me."
"You have to understand. I didn't train those little bastards; Pell did that. He taught them hand-to-hand fighting and weapons and other stuff. God knows what."
"And you just took roll call every morning?"
She shook her head as she made a left-hand turn.
"I'm a qualified psychologist. Pell had me work with the children on discipline, the need not to talk. I had to motivate them."
"You did great," Remo said. "I can't remember ever seeing such motivated children."
Sashur pulled the car to the curb and stomped on the footbrake.
"I'm telling you the truth," she blurted out. "Why don't you just kill me now and get this all over with? I'm too tired to hold it all in, and I'm tired of worrying. And I'm tired of trying to explain it to you without your listening."
Her shoulders heaved and her face went down against the steering wheel and she wept.
"Stop it," Remo said. "I hate women who cry."
"I'm sorry," she said and sniffled. "I'm just so tired. So tired of all this… the lies, the deceit, the… I'm so tired."
Remo patted her shoulder consolingly. "Come on. Calm down. Just tell me what happened."
She shook her head, as if splashing away tears, and began to drive again, checking carefully in her rearview mirror before pulling into the roadway.
"Anyway, I helped Pell train by doing motivation work on the children. Then one day I got a call. I told you, this was just after Pell said he was going to make me the scapegoat."
"And?"
"It was a man I never heard before. He didn't give his name. But he told me just what I was doing and what Pell was doing and then he let me know he was Pell's superior. And he told me that if I wanted Pell kept quiet, I would have to do it myself. Otherwise, I would go to jail. Oh, Remo, it made me sick. But I had to do it. I was afraid. So I told Alvin to shoot Pell."
"They listened to you? When Pell was their trainer?"
"But I was their motivation expert. They believed in me."
"And?"
"That's it," said Sashur.
"Not quite," Remo said. "What were you doing with those kids tonight?"
"Oh," Sashur Kaufperson said. "I nearly left out the most important part. The man who called me about Pell? Well, he called me about you and the Oriental earlier today. He told me you two would be coming, and I should have you killed. But this time I wouldn't do it. No, I wouldn't do it."
"Did you tell him that?"
"No. I just made like I'd go along with anything. But as soon as I got off the phone with him, I called the police and told them I needed protection. From you two. I thought you were killers."
"Me? A killer?" Remo asked.
Sashur smiled. "That's what I thought. And then you came to my apartment and right after that the police I had called broke in and they let me out of the closet."
"And you still don't know who this big boss is? The one who phoned you with your orders?"
"No, I do. I do. I just found out tonight."
"Who is it?"
"I saw him on television," Sashur said. "Maybe you saw him too. General Haupt. I'd know that voice anywhere."
"Good. I've got business with General Haupt," Remo said.
Remo had, of course, been aware of the car following them. The steady illumination of the interior of Sashur's car by headlights reflected in the rearview mirror, vanishing momentarily whenever they made a turn, then resuming was such a tipoff Remo hadn't even bothered to turn around to look.
So Remo was not surprised that as Sashur parked in front of his motel, the car behind them pulled around and nosed into the curb in front of them.
"Oh, balls," said Sashur.
"What?"
"It's George."
Remo saw the man getting out of the gray Chevrolet and recognized George as Sashur's boyfriend who had tried to follow them the night before, when they were leaving Sashur's apartment.
He was standing now alongside Remo's door.
"All right, you, get out of there." His voice was an attempt at a growl but too high-pitched to sound anything but playful. It was a puppy's bark.
"Sure," said Remo through the partially opened window.
Sashur restrained him with a hand on his arm. "Don't go," she said. "He's got an awful temper. George, why don't you just get out of here?"
"I'm tired of your cheating on me," George whined. Remo noticed he was a fattish man, who moved sloppily on his feet. As he talked to Sashur, he was swaying from side to side impatiently.
"Cheating on you?" she said. "Even if I were, which I haven't been…"
"Very good," Remo said. "Subjunctive mood. Condition contrary to fact." He turned to George. "Would a woman who was cheating on you be cool enough to say 'if I were' instead of 'if I was'?"
"If I were, which I haven't been," Sashur repeated, "how could it be cheating? We're not married."
"Name the day," said George.
"Any day but today," Remo said. "She's going out of town with me today."
"Okay, fella, that's it for you. Get out of there," George said.
"I was just coming," Remo said. He pushed open the door and moved lightly onto the sidewalk. George backed up to make room for him.
Sashur leaned across the seat to call, "Watch out for him, Remo."
Remo looked at George and saw his eyes were glistening brightly. He had tears in his eyes.
This poor nit loved that poor nit, Remo realized. Maybe they were made for each other.
"You gonna leave her alone?" demanded George.
Yes, he loved her. No doubt. Maybe she could learn to love him too.
"Make me," Remo said.
"You asked for it," George said. He threw a roundhouse right-hand punch of the variety used by brown bears to catch swimming fish.
Remo let it hit him high up on the left side of the head, moving his head just a fraction of an inch on contact. Like all noncombatants George stopped his punch as soon as it touched target. Remo felt the knuckles touch his skin, and he recoiled slightly as George pulled his hand back for another punch.
Remo leaned against the trunk of the car as if he had been knocked there.
"Had enough?" George asked.
"I have not yet begun to fight," Remo said.
George jumped forward, his body as open as a dinner invitation, and threw another right hand. Remo let this one get him on the shoulder and made a display of rolling over on the fender of the car and groaning.
"Ooooohhh."
"George, stop," Sashur yelled. "You'll kill him."
"Damn right, I'll kill him," George said. His voice was lower now, huskier. "And you too, if you cheat on me again."
"Oooooohhh," groaned Remo.
George nodded at him for emphasis and danced around to the left, throwing his left jab at air. "Want anymore, guy?"
"No, no," said Remo. "Enough for me."
"Okay. Keep your hands off my woman. This is the second time I caught you. There won't be a third time." George leaned into Sashur's car. "I'll be at the school tomorrow when you get off work. You're coming to my place and you're staying the night."
"In a pig's…"
"No arguments, baby. You heard me. Tomorrow after school."
Heavy-footed, George stomped away. As he drove off, he peeled rubber.
Remo waited until George's car had turned the corner before he got off the fender.
Sashur came to him. "Remo, are you hurt?"
"Never laid a glove on me." Remo touched his jaw as if it were tender. "Come on," he said, "we've got to go upstairs."