s [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

late president of Just Folks Airlines, A. H. Baynes III."
"Another dynasty falls," Remo said bitterly.
"I cannot pretend to understand it, but obviously the girl retains some
memories of the Thuggee cult to which her family belonged."
"What's the big deal? If you had been forced to join a cult that strangled
travelers for their wallets, it would leave an impression even on you."
"Kimberly," Smith said, "was only eight when she was liberated from the cult.
That would make her thirteen now."
Remo snorted. "Thirteen? She was twenty if she was a day."
"Records do not lie. She is thirteen."
"She had the body of a twenty-year-old. She was twenty. Maybe nineteen. I'm
not into kiddie humping, Smith."
"I am not suggesting you are. What I am trying to say is this. Kimberly did
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not have four arms. I have seen her school medical records. They are very
clear on this point."
"I told you-"
Smith's hand shot up.
"Let me finish, please," he said. "I have checked with the Watergate Hotel.
The woman they describe as Kimberly Baynes-she used that name when she
registered -was clearly more than thirteen years old. That leads to only one
conclusion. That this woman is impersonating the abducted girl for some
unfathomable reason."
"It fits. So who is she?"
"I have no idea. An FBI forensics team has checked her room for fingerprints.
They are not on record. But I do have something to show you."
"Yeah, what?"
"This," Smith said, holding out a sheet of fax paper. Remo took it.
"That's her," Remo said, looking at a charcoal sketch of the woman he knew as
Kimberly. His dark eyes lingered on the image.
"You are certain?"
Remo nodded. "Where'd you get this?" he asked, returning the sheet.
"FBI artist's sketch," Smith said, folding the sheet and returning it to an
inner pocket. "It was constructed after extensive interviews with the hotel
staff."
"Oh," Remo said in a disappointed voice. "So that's it? You came here just to
tell me you have zip?"
"No, I've come to suggest that in your current state, it might be better if
you do not prowl the Folcroft corridors. The staff are becoming nervous and
inquisitive. I would like to suggest you return home."
"No chance. He's just waiting for me."
"I cannot understand this belief of yours, Remo. The Master of Sinanju is
deceased. The dead do not trouble the living."
"Tell that to Chiun."
"I wonder if this is not merely a manifestation of your extreme grief. Your
relationship with Chiun was a combative one. Are you certain you are not
projecting your grief onto an empty house?"
Remo stood up, his lower legs lifting his body with a scissors motion. Smith
averted his eyes with embarrassment.
"Why are you asking me all these idiot questions instead of doing your job?"
"I am doing my job. The security of CURE depends on the inner circle of
agents--you and I, as matters now stand-being effective."
"Don't sweat my end. Find Kimberly before she starts this Caldron of Blood she
warned me about."
Smith's eyes flicked to the silent TV screen.
"Is that why you are monitoring the Iraiti situation?"
"Know any other global tinderboxes?" Remo growled.
"Yes. Cambodia. Russia. And China. Among others."
"None of which are steamed up about a missing ambassador. What's Washington
planning, by the way?"
"I do not know." Smith turned to go. "I will inform you once my computers have
traced this Kimberly Baynes impostor. In the meantime, I would ask that you
remain in this room as much as possible."
"Count on it," Remo snapped, dropping back into his lotus position. He tapped
the remote. The sound came up.
"Day Four," the voice of Don Cooder intoned. "As I greet this new day,
possibly the first of many that might be as countless as the desert sands
themselves, I ask myself this one question: What would Walter Cronkite do in a
situation like this? . . ."
"He'd say 'Get a life,' " Remo told the unresponsive TV screen as the door
silently closed after a troubled Harold Smith.
Chapter 20
Kimberly Baynes drove as deep into occupied Kuran as the Humvee's gas tank [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]