Destroyer 114: Failing Marks by Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir

Author:Warren Murphy & Richard Sapir
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

Standing just inside the doorway, hands jammed firmly against his hips, Remo was more than just a little miffed.

"You mean to tell me you dragged my ass halfway around the world for a crummy handful of gold coins?" he demanded angrily.

"It is not the amount that is significant. It is what it represents," the Reigning Master of Sinanju explained.

They were in the packed living room of the Master's house in Sinanju. Bright sunlight shone through the tall windows, casting warming rays over only a fraction of five thousand years of accumulated tribute. The rest of the Sinanju treasure trove was stacked all around the house, like uneaten loaves of bread in an overproducing bakery.

Chiun was stooping to examine the gold coins that Keijo Suk had dropped in his haste to leave several days before.

"This is ridiculous," Remo complained. "You made me think they cleaned you out."

"Today it is a handful," Chiun said seriously. "Tomorrow it is another. Where will it end?"

"Judging from the pile of junk you have heaped around this dump, I'd say somewhere in the middle of the millionth century," Remo said.

Chiun paid him no heed. He collected the three coins from the floor. Never in circulation at any time in history, they had been minted specifically for Sinanju by a grateful employer. They bore the face of Cleopatra on one side and the symbol of Sinanju on the other. Each coin would have been priceless to a collector.

Chiun tossed the three coins into the copper urn next to the door. There were seven more jars stacked nearby, each brimming over with identical gold pieces.

"Ah-hah!" Chiun announced.

"What?" Remo asked, peeved. He was leaning on the door frame.

"See how the villain pauses." Chiun pointed at the footprints in the dust near the door. "He thinks whether he should steal from the glorious House of Sinanju, thus sealing his fate. An evil and stupid creature, he gives in to temptation." He indicated a mass of scuffed prints. "More hesitation. I have committed my base act of thievery, he thinks. If I must die, let me be cast into the Void for more than one handful of coins." Chiun raised an instructive finger. "He fills his pockets and than scurries off into the black of night, fearful even in his flight of the awesome vengeance to which he has condemned himself."

Remo looked at the marks on the floor. To him, they looked like a mass of dirty footprints.

"If you say so," Remo said dubiously.

A fire burned in the great iron furnace in the cellar, heating a huge cauldron of water, which in turn warmed the chilly air within the house. This method of heat dispersal had not become popular in the West until the twentieth century. The Master's House had enjoyed this luxury since the time of Plato.

Chiun's caretaker and the man who had lit the fire in preparation for the Master of Sinanju's arrival was an aged villager named Pullyang. The man who had contacted Chiun at Folcroft, Pullyang stood near the archway that led into the next room.

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