"Oh, sure," Remo said skeptically.
"That may explain the static," Smith mused.
"Publicity stunt," said Remo.
"Perhaps not," Smith said thoughtfully. "Remo, I was listening to the Limburger show when you called. He claimed he was about to crack this thing wide open."
"He also got the last presidential election dead wrong," Remo said sourly.
The newscast continued. A clip of Senator Ned Clancy was thrown up on the screen. The newscaster was saying, "Shortly after the alleged disappearance of Thrush Limburger, Senator Ned J. Clancy of Massachusetts announced that he would sponsor a bill calling for a four-billion-dollar research program to combat the growing HELP crisis, entirely funded by a value-added tax on condom sales nationwide."
"It is my hope that the bulk of these revenues can go to ending this scourge, whatever it may be," he said in his broad Massachusetts accent.
Remo turned off the sound.
"You hear that, Smitty?"
"Yes."
"This is awful fishy."
"How so?"
"Yesterday, Clancy was ducking the question of HELP like crazy. You could tell he was worried about what Limburger was going to say and do. Now Limburger's vanished and all of a sudden there's a giant bill in the Senate."
"It is almost as if Clancy knows Limburger isn't coming back," Smith said slowly. His voice grew sharp. "Remo, can you get to Clancy?"
"As a matter of fact, I'm in good with his mother's nurse. I can talk to her."
"Do so," said Smith.
"I'll get back with you, Smitty," said Remo suddenly, hanging up.
Remo had spotted the Master of Sinanju through a bungalow window. He threw open the door.
"Hey, Little Father! I'm headed for Nirvana West. You coming?"
"Have you showered?" Chiun called back.
"The ice hasn't melted yet. But before you say no, Thrush Limburger just disappeared."
"The fiends!" shrieked Chiun, rushing forward, his wide kimono sleeves flapping like the wings of some ungainly bird.
"What fiends?" asked Remo, going out to meet him.
"Whichever ones abducted Thrush the Vocal. They must be depraved to commit such a heinous act."
"They also must be able to bench press elephants if they carried him off themselves. Come on. We gotta talk to Nalini."
The Master of Sinanju froze as Remo threw open the car door for him.
"Why must you do that?" he asked coolly.
"Clancy just pulled a flip-flop. He's sponsoring a bill to fight HELP. Could be he knows what happened to Limburger."
"Then we will rend his dissipated flesh from his treasonous bones," cried Chiun.
"Nothing doing. He's a U.S. senator. We don't mess with him without authorization from Smith. You know how he is about hitting politicians, especially if they're ours."
"I do not understand. What are assassins for but to do away with nettlesome rivals?"
"Look, Clancy belongs to a famous political family. I know they're mostly jerks, you know they're mostly jerks, and Smith knows they're mostly jerks. Could be he's more than a jerk. Could be he's pulling a scam for some reason."
"So?"
"So, he belongs to the same party as the new President."
"Ah." Chiun's eyes narrowed. "This new President, he is not to Emperor Smith's liking?"
"Every time Smith calls him, he's gotta remind the President to turn down the radio."
"The new President is an adherent of Thrush too?"
"Not Thrush. Elvis."
"The dead one whose restless spirit haunts supermarkets and post offices throughout this land?"
"That's the only Elvis I know about."
The Master of Sinanju's visage tightened in thought. "Perhaps after this assignment the opportunity I have been waiting for will come," he said thoughtfully.
"What opportunity?"
"To unseat the President and place Harold Smith on the Eagle Throne where he rightfully belongs and where he will be in a position to handsomely reward our loyalty."
"Never happen."
"Smith has secretly ruled this great nation for three decades. Is it not proper that he should come out of hiding?"
"Smith isn't in hiding. He's undercover. That's how he operates. Do us both a favor, don't bring this up."
"Why not?"
"Smith might be tempted this time."
Chiun smiled as he stepped into the car and allowed his penitent pupil to close the door for him.
They couldn't get anywhere near Nirvana West by car. Traffic was backed up. A half mile from the place, Remo eased the rented car up onto the soft shoulder of the road.
"Keep an eye out for anyone who might recognize us," Remo warned.
"I am not afraid of Ned Doppler and his ilk."
"Maybe not. But last time out an awful lot of TV anchors bought the farm. Smitty would be upset if you wasted any more."
"I only killed two. One by mistake."
"That was a hell of a big mistake."
"He was easily replaced," sniffed Chiun.
"Just be careful."
They slipped into the woods and made no sound as they worked their way to Nirvana West. Roosting birds were not disturbed by their passing.
"I guess we can scout the situation from that hill," Remo muttered.
They passed through an area of evergreens that had rubbery leaves instead of needles. Their scent was fresh and clean.
Something dropped from a branch onto Remo's shoulder.
He reached up and brushed it off. It scuttled away.
Further along, another sprang onto his head. Remo shook his dark hair and a brownish-red insect jumped off like a grasshopper to vanish amid the parched grass.
Chiun paused. "What is it, Remo?"
"Ant, dammit."
"Why are you so annoyed by a mere ant?"
"Because that's the second one that dropped on me since we got here."
Chiun shrugged. "Since you are an American, you should not complain when food offers itself to you."
They resumed walking. Remo had not gone six paces when another ant leaped onto his bare left forearm. This time, he lifted his arm to take a look at it. It was a rusty red and had the strangest head Remo had ever seen. It looked like a ram's head at the end of a long pipestem neck.
He shook it off, saying, "How come these pesky ants are after me and not you?"
"Because they are wise ants," replied the Master of Sinanju,
"Huh?"
"They understand the fate that awaits them if they intrude upon the Master of Sinanju."
"Ants aren't that smart."
"Nor are you, who cannot walk under a tree branch without acquiring passengers."
"Har de har har," said Remo.
Further ahead, they heard sounds. The noise of a car's suspension getting a workout, but no accompanying engine rumble.
"Better let me take point," said Remo, moving ahead.
Beyond a copse of trees with bark as smooth and shiny as watermelon rind, they came upon a long black limousine parked in the shade.
"We're in luck," Remo whispered. "That's Clancy's car."
"Leave him to me," said Chiun, leaping ahead.
The car was bouncing wildly now, Remo saw.
"Wait a minute, Chiun," he cautioned.
Before Remo could overhaul the Master of Sinanju, he had leaped to the right rear door and flung it open.
"Step into the light, pretender to the throne!" he cried. "For you have much to explain."
No one stepped out, so Chiun peered in. The limo had stopped bouncing on its springs.
Abruptly, the Master of Sinanju jerked back. He turned, his prim features shocked, his hazel eyes wide.
Remo looked in.
Blotto Clancy was sprawled on the spacious backseat, looking like a nude Jabba the Hut. He was sprawled over an equally naked woman.