Missing Link

There was another man in the room. He wore a brocade bathrobe over silk pajamas. The man's hair was jet black and his skin bore the signs of massage and expensive care. He could have been any age from forty to sixty. He was sitting in a

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chair facing Bobby Jack's. On the delicate hand-carved end table by his right side was a small fluted glass of sherry.

He looked up at Jessica and said, "Just who are you and what do you want here?"

"Mr. Slimone, I presume."

"You presumes right, girl," Bobby Jack said. "My old buddy, Earl Slimone. I'd introduce you right but I don't know your name."

"Name's not important," Jessica said. "I've come to rescue you."

Billings laughed. Slimone suppressed a slight smile. "Rescue him from what, my dear?"

"Don't play dumb," Jessica said. "It's not becom-

ing."

"But I mean it. Rescue him from what? Mr. Billings has been my house guest for a week."

"Thass right," Billings said. "Me and my good old buddy, Earl here, we been hanging out together."

Through her black makeup, Jessica's face showed momentary confusion. Just then Remo and Chiun moved soundlessly past her into the room. Remo looked around.

Chiun said, "Which one is this Billings?"

"The one with the beer can," Remo said. "Come on, Bobby Jack. You're going home." He turned to Jessica. "Well take over from here."

"Not quite so fast," Jessica said, 'Tve got a fee involved here."

1 don't think you ought to be greedy," Remo said. "We pulled your bacon off the stove once tonight. Why don't you count yourself lucky and go

home?"

"Yeah. Go home," Billings said thickly. "Don't

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want a beer, you can go home. Don't like niggers visiting anyway." His face brightened as he focused his eyes on Remo and Chiun. "You'uns want a beer?"

"Shut up," Remo said. He told Jessica, "Put that gun away before somebody gets hurt."

"Perhaps I can make some sense with you," Slimone told Remo. "Just who is this woman? And why is she pointing that gun at us?"

"She's just your friendly neighborhood spy," Remo said. "Don't pay her any mind."

Jessica leaned close to Remo's ear. "Remo," she said. 'There hasn't been any kidnapping here. Look at him. Does he look like a prisoner?^

"Then what the hell's he doing here?" Even as he asked the question, he had the answer in his mind.

"You two put this together to dodge the grand jury that's looking into campaign financing, didn't you?" he said.

"Right. Right. Right," said Bobby Jack. "Damn grand juries . . . make you crazy . . . getting so nobody can make a buck anymore without somebody butting in."

"And PLOTZ? And those medals at the train station? Just tricks to muddy up the trail?" Remo asked.

Slimone said sharply, "Bobby Jack, hold your tongue."

Remo shook his head. He would let Smith sort all this out. What he wanted to do now was get out of here with Billings in tow. He decided to take Slimone for good measure.

"All right, you two, on your feet." He looked at Jessica again. "I told you to put that gun away."

She nodded but kept the pistol in her hand.

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Slimone stood up. He was a tall thin man and he carried himself straight, with his shoulders back. Bobby Jack tried to crawl up from his seat. On the third try he made it. Remo walked behind them and hustled them toward the door. As he was leaving the room, Bobby Jack made a swipe toward a can of beer which stood on a leather-topped table and chortled when he caught it on the first try. As they were walking down the steps, Slimone and Bobby Jack in front, followed by Jessica, Remo and Chiun, Billings popped the top of the can open and halted the caravan for a moment while he took a long swig of beer.

"Good," he said. "Nothing like a beer when you're dry."

The procession halted momentarily as Slimone stopped in shock when he saw the bodies of his guards on the flagstone patio outside the rear of the house.

"C'mon, let's go," Remo growled. He turned to Jessica who still held her small .22 in her hand. "I told you to put that away."

Just as he spoke, Slimone dove forward onto the patio. His hand reached out and caught one of the fallen guard's .45 automatics. He rolled over and came up with the weapon pointing at the four others. Jessica saw him and jumped out in front of Remo, raising her gun to shoulder height.

She and Slimone fired together. Her bullet caught him full in the face. The slug from his weapon ripped into her heart. Both of them fell.

Remo knelt alongside Jessica but Chiun tapped him on the shoulder and raised him to his feet.

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"There is no hope, my son," Chiun said. As Remo looked down at her, then over at Slimone, he saw that both were dead.

So did Bobby Jack Billings. He took another sip of his beer. "Hot damn," he said. "That's good. Now what you say we get out of here?"

"Your friend just got killed and that's all you have to say?" Remo asked.

"Hell with him," Billings said. "Dead's dead. Nothing I can do about that. And anyway, with him dead, I can go back. No grand jury can find out nothing I did wrong without him around. And I don't even know her. Hell with her. Serves the nigger right."

He drank some more from his beer. "I gotta tap a kidney," he said.

"One thing," Remo said. "Did the president know where you were?"

"That peckerhead? I don't tell him nothing. None of his business what I do." "He was worried about you," Remo said. Bobby Jack Billings blinked his eyes as if it took an act of will to focus them. "That's his problem," he said. "Now I gotta make wee-wee."

He started off for the side of the house. Remo looked at Chiun, who shrugged.

"You're not going over there, are you?" Remo asked.

"Why not?" Bobby Jack said. He turned as he talked to Remo and swayed from left foot to right foot as if he were a flamingo trying to decide between them. His legs were thin and paste-colored. "C'mon," Remo said, his face wrinkling in dis-

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gust. "Not against the house. Go somewhere else." He waved toward the railroad tracks. "Go over there."

"Make up your mind or Fil go in my skivvies," Billings said. He started to walk off down the railroad tracks. Thirty feet from the house, he stopped between the twin silver rails and yelled back sarcastically, "Is this all right?"

"Fine," Remo said.

"Well, thank you very much," Bobby Jack said.

Remo watched as Bobby Jack struggled with the front of his boxer shorts. He turned his back to Remo and aimed himself toward the third rail. Remo turned to Chiun, about to say something, when he heard a crackling sound behind him and spun back.

Bobby Jack had succumbed to his last call of nature. The electric current from the third rail had raced its way up the stream of water from his body and poured into his body. The can of beer in his hand was giving off blue sparks. Billings fell forward across the third rail, where he sputtered once more.

Back on the patio, Remo tossed the switch, cutting off the electric power to the third rail.

1 forgot it was on," he mumbled.

Chiun snickered.

As Remo turned and looked at Bobby Jack's body, he folded his arms stolidly.

"A lot of people got killed because of that nit," Remo said to Chiun.

"That's Me," Chiun said

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

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Dr. Harold W. Smith took care of the details. The bodies were removed and it was finally announced to the press that Bobby Jack Billings and his good friend, Earl Slimone, had been accidentally electrocuted on Slimone's Newport estate, where Billings had been visiting for the past week.

Mustafa Kaffir was advised that he was persona non grata in the United States and requested to leave within a week.

Smith thanked Remo for his work and said that he felt much better knowing that the president had not ordered the kidnapping of Bobby Jack Billings in an effort to protect himself from an investigation of campaign financing. And, he said, under no circumstances could either Remo or Chiun have permission to compete in the 1980 Olympic games. Under no circumstances.

When he hung up the telephone and relayed Smith's message to Chiun, Remo said, "You know, annoying Smitty is the only thing that makes the idea worthwhile."

Chiun said, "Keep thinking that way."

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