"Now, wait a minute," she said, shaking off his grip. "You've got no right to treat me like this. Abraxas will see to it that you're straightened out."
"Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you?" He smiled. Then, as suddenly as the smile had appeared, it was transformed into a menacing scowl. "Well, I'll let you in on something, missy. You may have been Abraxas's favorite once, but things have changed. This time you've gone too far. Last night was the beginning of the end for you."
"What about last night?" she demanded.
"You didn't like sticking that needle into Smith, did you?" he taunted.
"I did it, didn't I?"
"Abraxas doesn't think you're tough enough to stick with the program to the end."
"Don't be absurd. Where else am I going to go? It's just that I didn't think I'd have to harm anyone."
"That's just the attitude Abraxas doesn't like. That's why he's had me following you. Who's the trusted aide now?" he said with a smirk.
"You did what?"
"I followed you. And it's a good thing I did. You can't be trusted."
"I resent being trailed around like some kind of criminal," she said.
"Get inside." He nearly threw her through the screen doors of the mansion.
The two of them stood in front of the humming camera. "What is it?" Abraxas's voice rang out in the silence.
"I found her in the garden, sir," the little man said proudly. "She was talking with someone from outside. She probably let him through the gate herself."
"I did not," Circe objected.
"Who was this man?" the voice asked.
"I— I don't know his name. Just someone I met in town."
"What did he want?"
"He..." She stopped and looked up at the camera. "Why am I being interrogated like this?"
"You let Smith escape last night."
"But I went after him."
"You should have watched him more closely. It was your job."
"But it was dark...."
"Who was the man you were talking to?"
"I tell you, I don't know his name!" she shouted. She closed her eyes and collected herself. "He was looking for Dr. Smith. He knows he's here."
"How does he know?" the voice demanded.
"He didn't tell me," Circe said defiantly. "I made arrangements to meet him later. I thought you'd want to send someone to pick him up for questioning."
"Questioning?" The voice broke into a deep rumbling laugh. "An infiltrator comes into our midst— a spy— and you want me to question him?"
"Why, yes," Circe said, bewildered. "There may be others."
"He will be killed, as will any others that come after him."
"Killed? Without even giving him a chance to talk?"
"Death is the only way to deal with those outside our sphere of influence. Death is the only punishment that works."
"But what about everything you've said about unity?" she said, her voice small. "And harmony. And peace."
"Words are only words. The Great Plan will not be foiled by words. Death to traitors, Circe. Remember that."
"Traitors? Why are you talking to me like this? I'm not a traitor."
"No?" The question hung in the air. "Perhaps you were planning to lead the outsider into a trap, as you say. Perhaps. And perhaps you would have told me about it."
"I was going to, I swear it."
"She didn't head straight for the house after talking with him, sir," LePat said.
"I'm not a robot!" she screamed. "I wanted to think about it."
"Ah, yes. My Circe has become quite the thinker," Abraxas said. The voice darkened. "Thinking is my responsibility, not yours."
She quaked. "Yes, sir," she said.
"Were you... attracted to this man you met?"
"What kind of question is that?" she asked indignantly.
"Answer it! Were you attracted to him?"
She was silent for a long moment. "No," she said at last, her cheeks flaming.
"You're lying. And you're lying about not knowing his name."
"I don't know his name!"
"And you may be lying about your plans to turn him over to me. It would have been just as easy for you to turn me over to him."
"I would never do that to you, Abraxas. Never." Her voice was choking.
"Was he handsome?"
"No," she said, her cheeks burning.
"Lying again, my dear. Remember, I have known you for a long, long time. I have seen your eyes cloud with lust at the sight of a strong pair of arms and a handsome face."
"That's not fair," she said, weeping openly now. "I love you. I have never broken faith with you. I have never once lain with a man..."
"Enough," the voice on the loudspeaker commanded.
Circe glanced over to LePat, suddenly remembering his presence. "I have always been grateful to you," she said brokenly to Abraxas.
"I will let the episode pass with a warning. This time. But only this time. The next trespass will bring punishment, swift and sure and irrevokable. Do you understand?"
"I understand," Circe said, looking at the floor.
How had this happened? she asked herself. How far had the madness gone? Suddenly she saw herself as if she were another person looking into the room. There she stood, begging the forgiveness of a disembodied voice on a loudspeaker, trembling before the eye of a television camera, fearing for her life.
"What time is your meeting with this man?"
"Ten o'clock," she said numbly.
It wasn't going to be like this. It was never supposed to be like this.
"Where?"
The stranger. The stranger was her only hope. If she could only trust him with the truth....
"I asked you where you were going to meet him."
She looked up with a start. "Where?" Her mind raced. Mother Merle's was on the north end of the island. "The Conch Inn," she lied. "Across from the fish market."
"That's near South Shore, isn't it?"
"Yes," she said, struggling to keep her eyes on the camera. If she were caught in this lie, she knew, there would be no second warning.
"You'll remain here. I'll send some hired men to go in your place and dispose of him. LePat, do you have a description of him?"
"I saw him myself, sir."
"Very well. You'll instruct the men. Circe, you may leave now."
She nodded obediently and walked out.
Tonight, she thought. Tonight her life was going to change forever, and whether she lived or died was going to depend on the whim of a total stranger whose name she didn't even know.
?Chapter Twelve
"Remo. Remo."
Chiun had perfected a stage whisper that could reach across an ocean. Remo saw him now, a glimmer of blue satin resting motionless among the trees beyond the gate to South Shore. He trotted up the road and onto the hillside. "What is it?"
"There has been trouble. Someone stopped the woman you spoke with in the garden."
Remo shook his head. "She's a piece of work, that one," he said. "After she gives me the treatment with those big sad eyes of hers, she runs straight to her boss."
"It did not appear that way," Chiun said.
"It was, believe me. Anyone who calls herself Circe is bad news."
"A fitting name for a siren," Chiun said, smiling.
Remo shrugged. "Well, no big deal. Let her do what she wants. She might put us onto something. She says Smitty's in bad shape. You haven't seen him, have you?"
"No, but there are others. Behind the house, on the far shore."
Remo squinted into the distance. Along the beach milled a dozen or more people. The sea breeze carried their voices, merry and carefree. "Well, it's worth a look, I guess," Remo said. "But let's make it fast. From the way the girl talked, Smith's probably in a dungeon somewhere inside the house."
The shoreline was narrow and rocky, laced with the warm Caribbean waves that lapped up onto the blinding white sand. The revelers on the beach were a rowdy crowd, singing and joking, apparently comfortable with one another's company. There was little at the beach party to remind Remo of the strange goings-on that had led him here.