thedestroyer.deathcheck-第26节

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　〃That's　the　biz；　kid；〃　Remo　said　with　lightness　of　heart；　and　he　left　with　his　very　dry　clothes　crackling　around　him　toward　his　appointment　hi　Dayton。　Wait　hi　Israel　for　an　agent　to　e　home？　Remo　chuckled。　He　never　would　have　made　it　out　of　Chicago。　Well；　senility　is　senility。
　His　body　hurt；　like　a　very　bad　sunburn；　but　it　was　a　good　hurt。　He　was　breathing　well　and　moving　well　and　relaxed　and　alive。　He　wished　Deborah　all　the　best　and　assumed　she　would　be　well　because；　after　all；　she　was　very　lucky。　She　would　have　died　on　Deuteronomy。　That's　the　biz。
　Still；　he　felt　a　little　desire　to　read　the　note　again；　just　once　more。　But　it　had　gone　up　in　flames　and　just　as　well。　He　would　relax；　go　out　of　his　head　in　Dayton；　fornicate　a　bit；　and　maybe　start　slow　in　a　week　or　two。　Perhaps　they　would　move　Chiun　out　to　him　for　one　of　the　training　programs。　He　would　probably　need　that。
　An　ambulance　moved　toward　him　from　the　other　side　of　the　circle。　It　couldn't　be　Ratchett。　His　house　was　in　the　other　direction。
　Then　there　was　the　body。
　The　ambulance　slowed　and　a　patrolman　riding　in　front　called　out：　〃You　must　be　Pelham。〃
　〃Yes；〃　said　Remo。
　〃You're　the　security　officer。　You　want　to　meet　me　at　the　morgue？〃
　〃Well；　I'm　sort　of　busy；〃　Remo　said；　and　seeing　the　young　policeman's　face　contort　in　shock；　he　felt　somewhat　stupid。　〃I'm　clearing　up　some　things　here。　I'll　be　with　you　later。　I've　had　a　hard　day。〃
　〃So　has　she；〃　said　the　patrolman；　nodding　back　to　the　receiving　section　of　the　ambulance。　〃Another　OD。　Your　second　in　a　month。　I　thought　you　people　up　here　were　brains；　not　junkies。　Look。　You've　got　to　make　it　to　the　morgue　because　we're　checking　out　stuff　with　the　FBI。　Hey；　what　happened　to　your　face？〃
　〃I　got　too　close　to　a　stove。〃
　〃Oh。　Just　a　second。〃　And　to　the　driver　he　said；　〃Wait　a　minute。〃
　The　policeman　left　the　seat'　and　sidled　up　to　Remo　and　in　confidential　tones　that　the　driver　could　not　hear　said；　〃Look；　no　matter　what　they　say；　the　FBI　goes　out　of　its　way　to　grab　credit。　You　know　what　I'm　talking　about。〃
　Remo　nodded。
　〃They　told　us　that　if　anyone　saw　you　to　tell　you　to　meet　them　at　the　morgue。　I　know　what　they're　doing。
They　want　to　get　yoi　away　from　the　photographers　over　on　the　thirteenth　green。　That's　where　we　found　the　body。　Fuck　'em。　You're　the　security　officer。　If　you　make　it　there　fast；　you　can　still　get　to　see　a　reporter。　Know　what　I　mean。　I　mean　they　e　in　here　to　make　a　pinch　or　something　that　we　can　do　just　as　good　and　they　act　so　goddam　nicey…nicey　like　they　don't　want　the　credit。　Know　what　I　mean？〃
　Remo　understood。
　〃How　does　that　make　us　look；　right？　And　you。　You're　security　officer。　Both　of　us　together　don't　make　what　those　bastards　make。　Right？　All　we　got　is　our　respect。　Right？〃
　Remo　nodded。　〃I'd　like　to　see　the　body。〃
　〃She's　a　shrink。　Would　you　believe　it？　A　shrink　OD'ing　on　horse？　What　a　bunch　of　dingalings。　Hey；　watch　it　with　those　stoves；　fella。　You　look　awful。〃
　〃The　body。〃
　〃Sure。　But　she's　wrapped。〃
　〃Just　a　look？〃
　〃Sure。　Hey；　don't　start　up　yet。〃
　The　driver　shook　his　head。'　…　〃Where　do　you　think　I'm　rushing　to；　man？〃
　When　they　got　to　the　rear；　the　patrolman　confided　that　the　driver's　entire　race　was　lazy。　He　opened　the　doors　and　with　the　effected　cynicism　of　young　policemen；　said：　〃That's　it。〃
　Remo　saw　the　sheet　covering　the　being　on　the　folding　stretcher。　He　knew　it　was　Deborah。　He　reached　into　the　ambulance　and　carefully；　very　carefully；　folded　back　the　sheet；　controling　every　nerve　lest　his　hands　break　away。　He　could　feel　the　tremble　of　energy　course　through　him；　and　he　channelled　it　into　the　precision　he　knew　he　needed；　and　he　felt　something　rise　hi　him；　something　trained　and　yet　beyond　training。
　And　he　saw　the　still　face　and　the　closed　eyes　and　the　freckles　which　had　lit　his　night　of　loneliness　and　the　lips　which　were　now　still　and　the　arms　that　would　never　move　again。　He　reached　in　and　held　her　hand。　In　the　light　from　the　overhead　bulb　he　saw　on　her　arm　something　that　was　being　surrendered；　either　by　the　chemicals　he　knew　were　in　her　or　by　the　life　that　was　no　longer　in　her。　The　faint　blue　rectangle　which　looked　as　though　drawn　by　a　robin's　egg　crayon。　They　had　been　neat　little　numbers　once　that　the　master　race　used　to　catalog　the　human　beings　they　considered　subhuman；　even　precious　children　who；　for　a　brief　moment；　would　light　up　a　life；　and　having　lit　it；　could　set　in　motion　that　which　would　settle　an　old；　old　score。
　He　squeezed　her　hand。　It　was　hard；　unyielding。　Tenderly；　he　opened　the　fingers　and　removed　the　object　that　she　clutched。　He　looked　at　it；　then　put　in　his　shirt　pocket。　Deborah　was　supposed　to　lead　our　agents　to　the　killer。　Now；　in　death；　she　would　lead　Remo　to　the　master　race　who　thought　they　were　supermen。
　Well；　then；　he　would　let　them　know　what　one　was。　One　who　was　not　sure　of　where　he　had　e　from　because　he　was　left　at　a　Catholic　orphanage；　one　who；　for　all　he　knew；　contained　the　seeds　of　all　races。　He　might　even　be　a　pureblood　German。　If　that　should　be；　thought　Remo；　should　they　hold　some　special　lien　on　viciousness；　let　that　enjoy　itself　within　him　now。　Chiun's　ancient　scripture　flashed　through　his　mind：　〃I　am　created　Shiva；　the　destroyer；　death；　the　shatterer　of　worlds。〃　They　would　e　to　know　the　destroyer。
　And　then　Remo　covered　the　stars　for　the　last　time　and　could　have　sworn　that　he　gently　shut　the　ambulance　doors。　He　had　been　very　precise　about　it；　doing　it　very　slowly　to　appear　casual。
　But　the　bang　and　the　crack　of　the　door　and　the　caved…in　red　cross；　and　the　ambulance　settling　on　its　wheels　brought　the　driver　running　from　the　cab。　The　patrolman　yelled　and　Remo　shrugged　his　shoulders。
　〃These　fuckin'　nuts　they　got　here；〃　the　patrolman　yelled　to　the　driver；　while　he　stared　at　Remo　angrily。　〃They're　all　screwballs。　Even　the　cop。　What'd　you　do　that　for；　huh？〃
　But　he　made　no　move　toward　Remo。　And　Remo　again　apologized；　and　walked　away。　He　hoped　he　would　arrive　before　the　FBI。　He　had　nothing　against　the　FBI。

CHAPTER　TWENTY…THREE
　
　The　man　once　known　as　Dr。　Hans　Frichtmann　sat　at　his　chessboard；　staring　at　an　endgame　whose　oute　was　a　foregone　conclusion。　Chess　was　a　balm　for　the　mind；　the　mind　that　could　appreciate　it。
　He　had　donned　his　smoking　jacket　and　wore　slippers；　befitting　a　man　who　had　done　a　hard　day's　work。　Who　could　have　expected　that　the　little　Jewess　worked　for　that　vengeful　gang　that　did　not　know　World　War　Two　was　over？　They　were　insane。　And　now　that　she　was　dead；　another　would　be　ing　for　him。　But　he　would　be　gone。　The　pictures　would　enable　the　Russians　to　control　the　scientists　at　the　Forum；　and　that　had　been　his　mission。　He　had　done　his　job。　Naturally；　it　would　not　be　adequately　appreciated；　but　appreciation　was　for　the　days　as　a　young　man。
　He　looked　at　the　board　again。　Only　a　king　left；　against　his　black　king；　queen；　two　knights；　a　rook；　and　a　bishop。　But　before　the　drug　took　effect　the　Jewess　had　said　that　no　matter　how　bad　things　looked；　there　was　a　way。　There　was　no　way；　of　course。
　He　was　about　to　reset　the　pieces　for　a　new　game　when　the　door　to　his　study　was　pushed　open。　It　swung　back　on　noiseless　hinges；　then　the　knob　cracked　into　the　wall。
　It　was　the　Brewster　Forum　security　officer；　looking　as　though　he　had　climbed　out　of　an　oven。
　〃Hello；　Stohrs；〃　Remo　said　to　the　man　who　was　Brewster's　Forum's　chess　instructor。　〃I've　e　for　my　？game。〃
　〃Well；　not　right　now；〃　Stohrs　said。
　〃Oh；　yes。　Now　is　fine。〃　He　walked　in　and　closed　the　door　behind　him。
　〃What　do　you　want？；〃　the　chess　instructor　asked。　〃This　is　nonsense　at　such　a　late　hour。　You　look　terrible。〃
　〃I　want　to　play　chess。〃
　〃Well；〃　said　Stohrs　with　a　sigh；　〃if　you　insist。　Let　me　take　your　jacket。〃
　Remo　took　it　off　himself　and　as　he　did；　the　frail　fibers　separated　and　a　sleeve　was　torn。　He　noticed　that　his　arms　were　red　and　swollen。
　In　the　center　of　the　room　was　the　chess　board　on　a　metal　stand　on　a　bare　parquet　floor。　Two　heavy…armed　oak　chairs　were　attached　to　the　table。
　〃Sit　down；　Mr。　Pelham；　I　will　set　the　board。〃
　〃No；　this　end　game　is　fine。　I　will　take　white。〃
　〃You　cannot　win　with　only　a　king。〃
　Remo　reached　into　his　shirt　pocket　and　withdrew　the　white　queen　that　Deborah's　hand　had　surrendered　to　him　in　death。　〃I　have　a　queen；〃　he　said。　〃That　will　be　enough。〃
　Remo　rested　his　arms　on　the　chair　arms。　Under　his　right　forearm；　he　could　feel　the　chill　of　metal　conducting　heat　from　Ms　arm　into　the　chair。　He　picked　up　his　king　to　examine　the　piece　and　as　he　did；　looked　down　at　the　chair　arm。　He　saw　three　small　metal　rings　buried　in　the　wood；　with　small　holes；　the　diameter　of　needles；　in　the　centers。　That　was　it；　Remo　thought。　A　knockout　injection。
　Stohrs　had　taken　his　seat　opposite　Remo。　〃An　interesting　conclusion；〃　he　said。　〃It　was　reached　through　the　Silician　opening。　Are　you　familiar　with　the　Sicilian？〃
　〃Yes；　of　course。　He　fought　on　the　side　of　the　Nazis。　It　was　his　responsibility　to　count　the　number　of　baby　rapes　mitted　by　Hitler's　thugs。〃
　Remo　smiled；　and　resisted　the　impulse　to　reach　forward　and　to　crush　Stohr's　adam's　apple　between　his　fingers。　Time　for　that。　Deborah　had　been　here。　She　had　sat　in　this　chair；　and　looked　in　Stohrs'　eyes；　loathing　him　and　what　he　stood　for；　but　ther