Smith moved on, looking into the Big Sandy incident.
It was similar. Only it fell within acceptable accident parameters. A driver tried to beat a train at a crossing. It happened with numbing regularity, like squirrels leaping into the paths of cars.
The decapitation of the engineer and subsequent behavior of the runaway Southern Pacific freight train was a different matter. It warranted investigation. Yet the preliminary NTSB report mysteriously cited drug use. It was a conclusion completely unsupported by available facts.
So when Remo had called, Smith sent him to the site, knowing that the Mystic investigation could wait. They were in the salvage stage now. There was nothing for them to do there. NTSB was still en route.
SMITH HAD MADE no progress by the time Remo checked in from Texas.
"Go ahead," Smith said, upon picking up the blue contact phone.
"Smitty, we found something."
"Yes?"
"The engineer was beheaded."
"I know that."
"No, you're thinking of decapitated. This guy was definitely beheaded according to Chiun."
"What is the difference?"
"The difference is a sword."
"I beg your pardon, Remo."
"According to Chiun, the engineer was deliberately beheaded."
"By whom?"
"Well, that's where it gets sticky."
"I am listening."
Remo's voice moved away from the receiver. "Here, Little Father, you tell him. It'll sound better coming from you."
The Master of Sinanju's squeaky voice came on the line. "Emperor, I bring difficult tidings."
"Yes?"
"Your servants have determined that foreign elements have been at work."
Smith said nothing. Chiun would tell it in his own way.
"These crimes have been perpetrated by Japanese agents, possibly only one."
"Why do you say that?"
"In both places Japanese vehicles were employed to block the right-of-way."
"How do you know this, Master Chiun?"
"In the place truly called Mystic, I myself beheld the name of the yellow machine. It was Hideo."
"Yes. That is a brand name."
"Here in this land of roughnecks, a Ninja was employed to work the same end."
"Excuse me-did you say ninja?"
"He means a Nishitsu Ninja," said Remo.
"Japanese-made vehicles are very common these days," said Smith. "I doubt this is anything more than coincidence."
"There is more, Emperor. In both places the unmistakable bite of a katana blade marked the site of this fiend's depredations."
"Did you say katana?"
"You know it?"
"I believe it is a sword used by the ancient Japanese."
Chiun's voice shifted away. "Remo, Smith recognized katana. Why did you not?"
"I'm having a slow week," Remo said sourly.
"Since 1971?"
"Get off my back!"
Smith interrupted the impending argument. "Master Chiun, I can think of no reason why-"
"There is more. Last night I encountered a foe the like of which I have never encountered."
"Yes'"
"A ronin. Do you know this word?"
"No."
"See?" said Remo. "Even Smith never heard of it.
"Hush. A ronin is a masterless samurai," explained Chiun.
"The samurai clans died out long ago," Smith said.
"Would that it were truly so," Chiun said, sad voiced. "I myself beheld one with my own eyes. He escaped. Stealing our dragon."
"It's Dragoon," Remo inserted.
"With which the fiend made his escape. Otherwise, we would have vanquished him utterly, just as you would wish."
"Er, did Remo see this samurai?"
"This ronin-no. He emerged from the sea while Remo was busy elsewhere. I alone saw him. He moved with great stealth. Fierce was his mien. Great was his skill."
"From the sea, did you say?" asked Harold Smith.
"Yes. Why?"
Smith frowned. A hazy memory tickled his brain. What was it he had seen?
"Nothing," he said, unable to shake the cobwebs from his brain. "It is nothing. Go on."
"Now that we have solved this mystery, we crave a boon, O Emperor."
"What is it?"
"My pupil and I are in dire need of a vacation. We are thinking of sojourning in sweeter climes. Just for a month or two. No more. We will return if needed."
"This assignment is not over."
"I told you he wouldn't fall for it," said Remo.
"Hush, unwise one. O Emperor, will you not reconsider?"
"This assignment is not over. And I do not accept your findings."
"What is wrong with them?"
"If a-er-samurai blocked the right-of-way with a Nishitsu Ninja, how did he get into the cab to behead the engineer?"
"Perhaps he flung his blade into the man's face."
"In that case the blade will be in the wreckage of the cab."
"Not if the samurai recovered it."
"How? The engine traveled over fifty miles before crashing."
"A mere detail."
"You might look into the engine. If a katana turns up, I may reconsider my evaluation."
"It will be done, O Smith."
The line went dead.
"I TOLD You he wouldn't fall for it," said Remo after Chiun hung up. The receiver shattered like so much black glass from the force of Chiun's angry gesture.
"That man is impossible."
"You didn't tell him the whole story."
"It is family business and none of his concern."
"Now what?" asked Remo.
"You overheard all. We will examine the engine."
"Even though you know we won't find any katana. The ronin was carrying it last night. A whole night after this mess."
"We have our instructions," Chiun said thinly.
"You just want to hang around where the ghost samurai don't roam."
They rejoined Melvis Cupper, who was working a pay phone in a local saloon. He clutched a sweating can of Coors in one hammy fist. After a minute he hung up.
"Just got my marchin' orders. I'm Mystic bound."
"We want a look at the engine," said Remo.
"Well, it's in the direction I'm headed, so I guess I can take a little detour."
THE ENGINE LAY on its side in the shattered remains of the Texarkana freight yard. It was a long gray monster, its formerly blazing red nose now scorched black by the exploding utility vehicle.
"Man, it about busts my heart to see one lyin' on her side like that," Melvis said unhappily.
"It's only an engine," said Remo.
"Shows what you know. That's an MK5000C. Sweetest thing this side of steam. Another generation or two, and diesel will finally match the tracktive effort of the old Challenger steamers. Never thought I'd live to say it, either."
Remo was looking at the forward windscreens. They had shattered into crazy spiderweb patterns, but the glass had held. Only a small piece was missing.
"No sign of an entry puncture," he said.
"Entry?"
"Never mind."
There was a gangplank platform hovering over the side access door. They climbed the steps and lowered themselves down.
The interior cab walls were crusted reddish black with dried blood. A few flies buzzed about.
Remo and Chiun looked around. The cabin hadn't sustained much damage.
In the rear of the cab was a long rip in the bulkhead that separated the cabin from the power plant.
"What's this?" Remo wondered aloud.
"A hole," said Melvis.
"Made by what?"
Melvis shrugged. "Flyin' something or other."
"You find the something?"
"They ain't got to the engine yet."
Remo said to Chiun, "What do you think, Little Father?"
Chiun looked the rip over carefully. "Katana."
"You sure?" asked Remo.
Chiun nodded. "The blade passed through this hole."
"Okay. How'd it enter the cab?"
"Sorcery."