"I know not this Magoo. Was he more competent a politician than Governor Bryant?"
"Definitely," Remo said. "Here come the convicts."
From the wall-to-wall picture window they had an unobstructed view. On the stage, a line of unsavory-looking characters in badly fitted suits was emerging from the wings and taking seats in the rows of chairs behind the podium. Some looked jubilant, some looked weary, and a few tried to adopt a street-tough swagger, but they were all extremely uncomfortable being where they were.
As the men filed into their seats, a row of students on the balcony across the auditorium rose to their feet and raised a banner that read No Amnesty For Murder. A loud chant began. "Killers, murderers, crook! Killers, murderers, crook!"
The processional of convicts on the stage reacted with laughter, a number of middle fingers and one outburst of temper. The protesters were ushered out of the auditorium by state troopers with great efficiency.
"Makes you sick," said the thin young woman with the fat highball glass full of something amber. "To think those kids want to incarcerate innocent men."
"Those men are innocent?" Chiun asked.
"They have not been proved guilty," said the woman, whose dress had not been tailored to match her recent weight loss. Remo guessed she was on one of those all- liquid diets that were all the rage. In fact, she was taking a big swallow of lunch.
Chiun looked at the stage and then at the woman. "How did these men become incarcerated if there was no trial?"
"Oh, there was a trial," the woman said. "A hollow sham of a trial, for every single one of them. They all ended up with life sentences, simply because each was labeled a recidivist. You really don't know about this?"
"We're from out east," Remo explained.
"Oh." She considered this as she sipped another two ounces of liquor. "Well, all these men were accused of doing horrible crimes. Rape and murder and, well, mostly rape and murder. They were brought to court and convicted on the evidence—without consideration of the fact that future technology might be able to clear them of their crimes."
Chiun stared at her blankly.
"It's like this," she said. "You know how there were all these guys who were convicted of murders and they got the death penalty, but then the along comes DNA testing that proves they did not commit the murder. So the governor said to himself, how do we know that some new technology might not come along next week, or next month, or maybe in ten years, that could prove one of these men was innocent of the crime that got him jailed."
"I suppose this is possible," Chiun agreed.
"So, obviously, you can't expect a man to rot in jail just because the science hasn't reached the point where it can disprove the guilty verdicts."
"I see," Chiun said, nodding, then turned to Remo and said in Korean, "She is a drunkard and a lunatic."
"Probably, Little Father," Remo agreed, "but no more so than their governor."
"Do you mean to say her story is true? The governor of this province is taking this ridiculous stance? Why would he?"
"To draw attention away from the fact that he's facing federal corruption and conspiracy charges."
"Ah!" Chiun nodded sincerely and turned back to the woman, who had acquired a fresh drink from a passing waiter. She seemed befuddled but tolerant of the incomprehensible language, and beamed when Chiun addressed her in English. "The governor's constituency responds to his calls of clemency?"
"Oh, sure. Most do. There are some bad apples in the woodpile, you know, like those stupid kids."
"And this distracts the constituency from his looming indictments on federal corruption charges," Chiun added.
"My idea!" She toasted herself with the fresh drink, which was already down to dregs. "A PR challenge of the first magnitude! I'm his PR agent."
"I see!" Chiun said enthusiastically. "Ms.?"
"Johns. Sunny Johns." She reached out to shake his hand, but put it away as Chiun seemed not to notice it. "And you are?"
"Chiun." He shoved his fake FBI badge at her face.
"Moses Chiun," she said, squinting at it.
"Call me Chiun. May I have your card, Ms. Johns?"
Sunny Johns reached for her card with the hand holding the glass, sending the dregs trickling down her blazer lapels.
"So, really, any and all criminal convictions should be voided, pending the development of new technology that might clear the accused," Remo said.
"Yes, exactly." Sunny nodded as she thrust her card at Chiun, then stopped herself and put down the glass. She handed the card to Chiun with two hands, bowing over it.
"She thinks you're Japanese," Remo said in Korean.
"She is a drunkard and a lunatic, but talented," Chiun replied, taking the card in a whisk of motion that Sunny Johns did not follow. She looked on the floor for the card.
"But even ten years from now a convicted criminal would surely be able to claim that some other technology might be coming even further down the line," Remo insisted.
"I suppose so," Sunny said brightly.
"In other words, we should empty all the jails and never lock up another criminal because maybe, someday, he might be proved innocent."
Sunny beamed. "Exactly!"
"What a load of crap," Remo muttered.
Sunny loosed a peal of laughter. "Honey, don't I know it! But guess what, they're eating it up like hogs at the trough. Oh!" She clamped a hand over her mouth.
"I can't believe I said that. I never admitted that to anybody before."
"To have succeeded in this great deception indicates you are a woman of vast talent," Chiun said, giving her his best kindly-old-grandfather smile of approval.
Sunny removed the hand from her mouth and leaned in closer to Chiun, who halted his respiration to avoid her poisonous breath. "You haven't heard the best part."
"Yes?" Chiun asked.
"After the governor pulls this stunt he's gonna be worth millions. You know how many nutcase organizations will pay a hundred grand a pop to hear him give a speech?"
"Truly?" Chiun asked.
"And after today, the price doubles." Sunny's eyes were refusing to focus. "This is the peez-de-resistance! We got the networks. We got CNN. We got the BBC!"
She grasped the handrail in front of the picture window as her legs lost their stiffness. 'Truth is, Mr. Moses, I'm feeling a little bit awful about letting all those bad men out of the joint They hurt a lot of people, you know."
There was no answer. Squinting through the blur, Sunny found that she was getting nasty looks from the governor's staff, but the nice little man who was her confidant had gone away.
"Aw, hell," she blubbered.
"She is just what we need, Remo!"
"I wasn't impressed, tell you the truth," Remo said. "You said yourself she's a drunk."
"Many artists are."
"Artist?"
"She performed a great work of promotional creativity. Even I would not have deemed the whites of this nation gullible enough to swallow this ridiculous philosophy!" Chiun stopped and looked at Remo worriedly. "The people of this state, are they considered exceptionally stupid, even by American standards?"
"Depends who you ask," Remo said. "I think they're about as smart as the next state."
Chiun clapped his hands. "Wonderful, then Sunny Johns can work her magic for us on a national scale."
"And what exactly is she supposed to do for us, Little Father?"
"Publicize us!"
"Who's us?"
"Myself, of course. And Emperor Smith, and his heir apparent, the Prince Howard. Even you. We will let the nation know of our grand efforts to protect them from the evil that walks in their midst. With the right advertising and promotion, we will shine out like stars of justice and righteousness, while this band of upstarts will be just another band of playground bullies."