Warren Murphy: The Final Crusade

Smith looked at his feet. "It was nothing," he said uncomfortably.

"Smitty! You're embarrassed. Come on, let's hear it."

Smith cleared his throat. "As you know, it takes three days to crack an interrogation subject. We didn't have that much time. I used a technique I had once employed when I was with the OSS and needed information from an Axis collaborator caught after he had betrayed the hiding place of a number of Jewish refugees to the Nazis."

"Go on. I'm enthralled."

"Er, I talked to him."

"Talked?"

"Calmly and collectedly. I did not accuse or harangue either man regarding his crimes. Instead, I spoke quietly of the people whose deaths they had caused. I read them intimate details about their lives. I showed photographs. I spoke of the grief of their loved ones. In short, I put faces on what had been faceless victims. The terrorist broke when I laid a photo of a seven-yearold girl he had killed on the table and read to him from a class assignment she had written the previous week. It was entitled, 'What I Want To Be When I Grow Up.' When I read the portion describing how the girl wanted to become a nurse and end human suffering, the man broke like a soap bubble."

"Knowing you, Smitty, you probably bored him to death. Either way, it was pretty neat. Congratulations."

"Um, thank you."

At that moment the Master of Sinanju walked in. "Greetings, Emperor Smith," he said stiffly. He had not entirely forgiven Smith for his earlier transgressions against his pride. "Has my son broken the bitter news to you?"

"Yes, Master Chiun. And this is excellent timing. I just received your steamer trunks."

"Good. We recovered them from Sluggard's yacht before departing for Per-Iran. I warned the PUS man that it would be his head if they were not treated with proper respect."

"UPS man," said Smith.

"All fourteen have arrived?"

"All fourteen."

"No broken locks or damaged panels?"

"They appear to be in good condition."

"Well, if that's that," Remo said brightly, "let's go."

"Have you a place to stay?" asked Smith.

"Chiun and I are thinking of buying a house."

"Well, I can't stop you. But I must caution against a permanent address. Security, you understand."

"Caution away. But we're buying a house. With a white picket fence. And maybe a garden."

"With melons," added Chiun.

"Let me know the instant you pass papers," Smith said.

"Don't worry, Smitty. We'll be sending you the bill. You coming, Chiun?"

"One moment, Remo. I must confer with my emperor. Please be so good as to check my trunks for damage. "

"Gotcha," said Remo, skipping down the hall.

"He appears to be very happy," Smith remarked quietly.

"He will get over it. Remo's happiness has always been as fleeting as the spring snows."

"Does this have anything to do with his recent religious awakening?"

"No, Remo's religious reawakening was like his moods. When it was strong, it filled the room. I do not know what brought it on, but Reverend Sluggard's false words put it back to sleep."

"That is probably for the best. In our line of work there is no room for spiritual questioning."

"Besides, I have instructed him in the Sinanju beliefs," Chiun said proudly. "All vestiges of his old religion, the names of gods and the superstitions, have been purged from his mind."

At that moment Remo poked his head in. "Hey, Chiun what's the holdup? Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Shake a leg, will ya!"

"Then again," Chiun said darkly, "what can you do with someone after the Church of Rome has had him for his first twenty summers?"