"Ms. Pattie had been investigating the use of the Save concert money at the time of her death," said an announcer.
"She was all right," said Remo. "She was better than I thought. She cared. She really did. She smelled awful but she cared."
Chiun looked up, alarmed. He sensed the sounds of American lunacy coming at him, specifically Remo's. These whites shared that insanity that he found almost nowhere in the Orient.
"Let's go now," said Chiun. "We will phone Smith from Dakar, or Samarkand, or Calcutta."
"I'll phone him now," said Remo.
"Why break bad news right away? Allow Emperor Smith the kindness to still believe you work for him for a few more days. I will take upon myself the onerous chore of severing relations."
"No," said Remo. "It's my job. I'll quit it."
"No, my blessed son, great bearer of the thousand-year skills of Sinanju, glory of our House, allow me to do this delicate thing."
"Don't worry," said Remo, who knew Chiun would not be saying nice things unless he wanted something badly. "I'll handle it."
Chiun did not listen to the conversation. Instead he sadly packed both sleeves of the kimono for the Campobasso Festival of the Grape, the ones shaded to honor the god Dionysus. At least he wouldn't lose a kimono he might need. But when he would be able to free Remo from this insanity, he was not sure. Gravely Remo returned.
"I can't leave now, little father." Chiun nodded wearily.
"The whole country may be destroyed by those shysters Palmer, Rizzuto Do you know what they're going to do to the money supply?"
"Do not tell me, lest I lose sleep."
"They've figured out how to get two hundred million clients and sue the government at the same time. "
"What horror," said Chiun, folding his hands.
"But in doing so, they're going to wreck the government. I can't let them get away with that. Not after Debbie."
"Of course not," said Chiun. "What is one death alone? We must give them two."
"I know you're being sarcastic, but I believe every word I'm saying. I believe it deeply. I'm sorry."
"The problem was never that you didn't believe what you said. The heavens know how much I have prayed that one day you would learn that your body does not have to follow your tongue."
"I know how much you counted on leaving," said Remo.
"Would you mind terribly if you did not get yourself killed? Would you mind terribly acting like the professional assassin I trained you to be? Would you mind terribly killing Smith's enemy instead of getting killed yourself?"
"Of course not," said Remo, who knew that Chiun from the very beginning had railed against America's monuments to heroes who died an battle. To the House of Sinanju this only glorified getting killed, rewarding what should have been discouraged.
"There is a way we can win," said Chiun. "But I am afraid you are going to have to remember what I have only told you a thousand times a thousand."
Palmer was laughing. Rizzuto danced on the expensive table and Schwartz was on the phone simultaneously with his stockbroker and his Rolls dealer.
Their days of debt were over. They were going to have more money than they could spend, more money than Palmer could divorce away or Rizzuto gamble away, and even more money than Schwartz could brilliantly invest away.
"I am afraid to say it," said Palmer, bubbling, "but at last the world is turning our way. Nothing can go wrong. We've got the biggest client list possible. The right victims, the right victimizer, read money, and we're in position."
"Bless the name Robert Dastrow," said Rizzuto, kissing a gold chain around his neck where he used to wear a religious medal.
"I never thought of Dastrow as a good guy. I never thought he did anything benevolent in his life. But I take it all back," said Schwartz. "The man is not only all genius, he's all heart."
"He's decent is what he is, gentlemen. We have met the decent human being," said Palmer. "I didn't think they existed anymore. He knew we were in trouble. He knew we needed a big one to pull ourselves out, and he did it for us."
"You know our problem was that we didn't let him pick the overall situations, too," said Schwartz. "This man understands the law. From here on in, we follow. He's smarter than us and that's all there is to it. "
"He's better than us," said Palmer.
"He is us," yelled Rizzuto.
"What does that mean?" asked Schwartz.
"I don't know. I'm a trial lawyer. It sounded good," said Rizzuto.
Twenty minutes before, all three of them had been considering filing for bankruptcy, except Rizzuto, who was planning to leave the country because loan sharks did not accept pleas of insolvency without trying to collect pieces of the body.
And then Dastrow had phoned. He was initiating another case.
But this time Palmer was furious.
"We got nothing from the Grand Booree. The thing didn't even go off. We sent staffers out there. Staffers have to be paid. We got warning fliers printed up. Printers have to be paid. And what did we get? Less than Gupta, which wasn't enough to cover your fees to begin with. So, thank you for calling, but you are interrupting a liquidation meeting," said Palmer.
"I'm going to make you rich. You never specified rich before."
"Do we have to? Why do you think, people enter law, to exercise their gums?"
"I only followed orders before, or made suggestions. This time I'm going to make you the richest negligence-law firm in the country."
"What's the catch? How is it going to backfire?" asked Palmer.
"How much are we going to lose this time?" asked Schwartz.
"What kind of craps will show up on the dice?" asked Rizzuto, with the dourness of a man who has just lost his seventh sure thing in a row.
"Just wait one moment," came Dastrow's voice on the conference speaker box hooked up to the Palmer, Rizzuto telephone line.
"I'm waiting," said Palmer, who wanted to give this Midwest tinkerer not one more moment of PRS time.
"You should have a package out in your reception room. Have it brought into your office, but don't open it," said Dastrow.
"Certainly," said Palmer. Well acquainted with Dastrow's tricks, Palmer hung up the phone and called the bomb squad. He wasn't going to let Dastrow erase the only link to himself with one simple little explosion, not that Dastrow ever did anything that obvious.
The bomb squad cleared out the office and cautiously ran a portable X-ray scanner around the package, while men in Teflon armor jackets cringed outside in the hallway. But the picture on their screens set them laughing.
"An enemy didn't send you that package, Mr. Palmer. If he did, I wish I had enemies like that," said the chief of the bomb squad. "It's filled with dollar bills."
"Oh," said Palmer.
"He's up to something," said Schwartz.
"Turning on us at a moment like this," said Rizzuto.
"It's when you're down the world steps on you 'cause it can't do it while you're up."
Even the secretaries were moved by that little summation.
Remembering that Dastrow did warn them not to open the package, Palmer brought it to the conference room, past the old wooden desk from their storefront days.
Dastrow was on the phone in minutes.
"All right, now you know it's not a bomb," said Dastrow.
"Do you have us bugged?" asked Schwartz.
"Of course I have you bugged. And I'm not the only one who has you bugged. I've been protecting you for some time now from some interference from your attackers. But never mind. I didn't have to listen to you to know you'd have the package checked for a bomb. You think I'm running out on you and cleaning up the evidence. I knew you'd think that. You're still lawyers. You think like lawyers. You act like lawyers. You work like lawyers, at least most of them. "
"I resent that," said Rizzuto.
"Shhhh," said Schwartz. "Go ahead, Dastrow."