"Wear a condom. If you can find one that fits over your empty head."
They walked along. Remo kept his eyes peeled for more of the flealike ants.
He spotted one on a branch, seemingly staring at him with two eyes like black spots set in front of its ramlike head.
It jumped. Remo faded back and the ant went sailing by. It landed on a leaf with a dry skittering sound.
Moving on, Remo brushed away a single strand of spiderweb draped between two trees and encountered no more of the ants.
They came upon a group of print journalists and Remo asked one of them, "I'm looking for Thrush Limburger's people."
"The Tell the Truth RV is around here somewhere. It's the red, white, and blue one."
"Thanks," said Remo.
Rejoining the Master of Sinanju, he said, "Limburger's van is red, white, and blue. It shouldn't be hard to find."
It wasn't. They found it parked at the north entrance to Nirvana West, a young man sitting on the rear bumper, looking miserable.
Remo stepped up to him.
"You belong to Thrush Limburger?"
The man jumped up. "Are you press?"
Remo offered a card and said, "Remo Zimbalist, Jr., FBI."
"He's disappeared!"
"So we heard."
"No, he really, really disappeared," the man said excitedly. "I keep telling people this, but these so-called journalists refuse to believe me."
"Start from the top," said Remo, trying to sound official.
"I'm Cody Custer, Thrush's chief of staff." He blinked. "Aren't you going to take notes?"
"Photographic memory," said Remo.
"And who's he?" Custer asked, indicating Chiun.
"That's my Korean crime-scene photographer."
"Where's his camera?"
"He's got a photographic memory too. Let's hear your story."
"We pulled into town about ten o'clock. Thrush stopped in at the local funeral parlor."
"Esterquest and Son?"
"Yeah, that was the name. He went in and talked to him a while and came out all excited. Thrush said he had the whole thing figured out, and told me to drive straight here."
"Then what?"
"On the way, we were stopped by the California Highway Patrol. They said they were quarantining the area, but we could go through once they explained the risk."
"Yeah?"
"I told them I was okay with it, and they went in back and talked with Thrush. Not more than a minute or two. I drove on, pulled into here, ran Thrush's ballyhoo tape like he told me to. But he never came out."
"Okay, let's look at this logically. You sure he got back on in town?"
"Positive. When Thrush gets on or off this thing, believe me, you know it. We gotta replace the shocks every six months."
"And you didn't stop except for the police."
"Yeah. It's the only way it could have happened."
"What is?"
"The highway patrol kidnapped Thrush Limburger. They must have."
"You know how that sounds?"
"Yeah, but I think they weren't really police. One of them had a ponytail tucked up under his cap."
Remo looked to the Master of Sinanju. The Master of Sinanju stepped up to Cody Custer and looked him straight in the eye with hazel orbs like cold lasers.
Custer looked at Remo and asked, "What's he doing?"
"Taking your picture. Just hold still."
"He is telling the truth, Remo," said Chiun, stepping back.
Remo frowned. "Great. As if we don't have enough to do, we've got a kidnapping. Maybe we'd better talk to the coroner."
"That's what I kept telling the press. Talk to the coroner. But all they're interested in is food service trucks and bugeaters. In that order."
Chapter 13
There was a crowd outside the Esterquest and Son funeral parlor. Police cars were pulled up before the door and an ambulance stood waiting, its rear doors open.
There was also a contingent of press. Minicams and print journalists jostled one another for position.
"I don't see anyone who might recognize us," Remo said, easing the car into a parking slot.
"Something is wrong," said Chiun. "I smell death in the air."
"I just hope it's not what I think it is."
They got out and sauntered up to the edge of the waiting crowd. A sheet-wrapped body was being carried out. The electronic press crushed close as if the anonymous body on the gurney were the most important figure on earth.
"Don't they normally take bodies into a funeral parlor?" Remo said, loud enough for anyone to hear.
"Not when the body is the owner," a print journalist said.
Remo winced. "Esterquest?"
"That is the name over the door."
"What killed him?" Remo asked.
"No one knows the what, but the police have a pretty good idea of the who."
"Who?"
"Thrush Limburger. He paid the guy a visit less than an hour ago, and now he's croaked."
"Yeah, and Limburger's missing," added another reporter.
"Which proves he's guilty," said a third.
"How does one thing prove another?" asked Remo.
"It ain't coincidence."
"Yeah," echoed the first reporter. "The only question is where Limburger went to."
"My guess is Argentina," yet another reporter ventured.
"Argentina?"
"Yeah." The man chuckled. "Argentina has a lot of beef and at three-hundred odd pounds, it's a cinch Limburger isn't about to hide out in a country where he has to eat bugs."
"Can I quote you on that?" the first reporter wondered.
The other shrugged. "Sure, just don't use my name."
The first reporter raised his voice and looked around. "Anyone else hear that Limburger took off for Argentina?"
A sharp-faced woman perked up and said, "Yeah. Just now."
The first reporter scribbled something on his notepad. "Good. That gives me two sources. My editor won't squawk."
"Wait a minute!" Remo said. "He just floated that rumor and now you're going to print it?"
"Now, it's rumor. After they print it, it will be news. Don't you know how this game works?"
"I'm getting an education," Remo growled. "Listen, while you're in the rumor-mongering business, I caught Senator Ned Clancy porking Jane Goodwoman in the back of Clancy's limo."
The reporter made a disgusted face.
"We can't print that!" he exploded.
"Why not?" asked Remo.
"It's unsubstantiated."
Remo cocked a thumb at Chiun. "My friend here also saw it."
"Yes, it is true," said Chiun. "The pig Clancy was porking the other pig Goodwoman."
"That makes two of us," said Remo. "And Clancy's a married man now, isn't he?"
The reporter made a face. "That's a character thing. We don't do character issue stories. They're no fun anymore."
"I give up," said Remo. He searched for a pay phone and finally found one. It was an old-fashioned glass booth, which meant he could call Harold Smith with a modicum of privacy.
"Smitty? Remo. This isn't getting any better. Everywhere Chiun and I go, we meet a face from our past. Remember that coroner I mentioned? He just turned up dead. And get this, before he disappeared, Thrush Limburger dropped in on him too. According to Limburger's assistant, he came out all excited, claiming he'd figured out HELP."
"It is possible," Smith said slowly.
"Maybe. But get this: I saw Limburger's van rolling in when I was pulling away from the coroner's place. I thought it was another politician, at the time."
Smith's voice grew concerned. "Obviously, Limburger spoke with the man just after you did."
"Yeah, but when I left him, Esterquest didn't have a thing. The way I figure the timing, Limburger couldn't have spent ten minutes with the guy-and he has HELP all figured out?"
Smith's dry voice grew doubtful. "Odd. For all his showmanship, Limburger has a reputation for telling the truth."
"Why? Because he calls his network Tell the Truth? Isn't that like a used car salesman calling himself Honest John?"