There was no description of the suspect bee.
Smith wondered if it might have been a bumblebee and set about looking into it.
As he worked, he wondered if perhaps he shouldn't have sent Remo and Chiun to Sacramento, especially since they were already in California. Too late now.
WHEN REMO FOUND the Master of Sinanju, Chiun was arguing with Wurmlinger over something clutched tightly in his old-ivory-and-bone fist.
"I demand you surrender that to me," Wurmlinger was saying in an agitated voice.
Chiun presented his back to the tall entomologist. "I found it. It is mine."
"You have no right, no authority to keep it. I am here in an official capacity, at the behest of the Los Angeles County Coroner's Office."
"Finders keepers," intoned Chiun.
"What is it now?" asked Remo.
Hearing this, Chiun moved to Remo's side. "Tell this elongated cretin that he has no right to what is not his."
"Okay. What's going on here?" Remo demanded.
Wurmlinger pointed a shaking-with-rage forefinger in the old Korean's direction. "He has confiscated evidence in a crime," he spluttered.
"What did you find, Little Father?"
"Look."
And the Master of Sinanju opened his antique ivory claw. Nestled in the withered palm was a tiny-veined bee's wing.
Remo studied it a moment. "That come off the killer bee?"
"The correct term is 'Bravo bee,'" Wurmlinger interrupted. " 'Killer bee' is press invention. And I demand the right to examine that artifact," he said tightly, his long, bony mandibles clicking with each enunciated syllable.
"If Chiun found it, it's his," Remo countered.
"Are either of you qualified to judge insect parts?"
"Maybe yes. Maybe no. But like he says-finders keepers. Come on, Little Father. Let's go."
Chiun preceded Remo out the door of the deceased Dr. Nozoki's office.
"Where are you going?" Wurmlinger called after them, his fists shaking at his sides.
"None of your beeswax," said Remo. "You stay here and tell the next coroner in line what happened here."
"You cannot leave me alone with these deceased persons. You are both witnesses."
"You carry our water for us."
"And I'm here, too," Tammy Terrill piped up.
Wurmlinger looked at Tammy as if she were a particularly uninteresting specimen. Tammy didn't notice.
"Tell you what," she said, hoisting her Fox minicam on her shoulder. "I'll interview you, and then you can interview me. We can be cointerviewers. I usually don't do this, but I'm part of the story, too, and I'm grabbing for all the face time I can hog."
Dr. Wurmlinger groaned deep in his long throat. It was a pitiable, almost unearthly sound.
"First, ask me how I got into broadcasting ...." Tammy chirped.
Chapter 15
On the way to their rental car, the Master of Sinanju noticed the lingering bee. It was hovering in the top of a eucalyptus tree, but dropped lower as they passed it.
"Behold, Remo. A spy."
Remo followed Chiun's indicating finger with his gaze. It was a fat bumblebee, hanging there in place like a miniature helicopter. Its jeweled eyes seemed to be regarding them.
"Looks like an ordinary bee to me," Remo grunted.
"It resembles the nefarious not-bee."
"It's a bee. An ordinary bee."
Chiun frowned darkly. "Let us see if it follows us, then."
"Why would it do that?"
"If it is a lurking spy, it will naturally follow us. For that is the mission of a spy."
"Not a chance."
They found their car in the lot. Remo slid behind the wheel, while Chiun got into the passenger seat. It was a cool spring day, so Remo rolled down his window instead of turning on the air conditioner.
"No," said Chiun.
"No, what?" asked Remo, turning.
"No, we do not want the not-bee to accompany us."
"Why would it do that?"
"Because it harbors ulterior motives," said the Master of Sinanju.
Shrugging, Remo reversed the window control, and the glass hummed back into place. A moment later, Remo heard the tiny but distinct click. He turned.
The bumblebee-he couldn't tell if it was the same one that followed them out-was hovering outside his driver's-side window on whirring wings.
"That's funny," muttered Remo.
"There is nothing funny about it."
Then the bee banged its metallic-looking face against the glass. It bounced off. Hovering, it tried a third time. The glass defeated it. Every impact resulted in an audible click like a ring stone against glass.
"Maybe it's upset over something," Remo said slowly.
"Bees are attracted to the color blue," Chiun suggested. "This is well-known."
Remo looked at Chiun's amber kimono, and his own black-and-white clothing.
"We're not wearing blue. The car isn't blue, it's maroon. Nothing blue in here."
"Yet the bee-that-is-not attempts to gain entrance to our conveyance."
"Maybe he's seeing his own reflection in the window and thinks it's another bee. One he doesn't like."
At that point, the bee gave up on Remo's side and zoomed around to Chiun's window. As it passed before the windshield, it showed its fuzzy thorax with a black-and-yellow dappling that made them sit up straighter in their seats.
"Did you see what I just saw?" muttered Remo.
Chiun nodded. "Yes. A death's-head."
"Guess there's more than one of the little devils ...."
"Leave this place, Remo," Chiun hissed. "Now."
"Why?"
"So that we may see if it follows."
"Not a chance in hell of that happening," said Remo, keying the ignition.
Backing out of the lot, Remo took the San Diego Freeway back to LAX. The bee followed them as far as the lot, whereupon Remo accelerated, leaving the tiny black-and-yellow nuisance behind.
"Lost it," he said, grinning.
"There are other bees," said the Master of Sinanju cryptically.
"Or not."
RETURNING THE CAR to the airport rental lot, Remo and Chiun walked to the main terminal.
From time to time, Chiun turned without breaking stride, making a complete walking circle, as if to check for trailers.
"See anything?" asked Remo.
Chiun shook his bald head. "No bees."
"Anything else?"
"No not-bees, either."
"What the hell is a not-bee?"
"That I do not know. But I possess the wing of a not-bee. Perhaps Emperor Smith can enlighten us."
There was a Federal Express collection box in the terminal. It gave Remo an idea.
"Let's FedEx it to him."
"Good idea," said Chiun, surrendering the bee's wing to his pupil.
Remo dumped it into a FedEx mailer and addressed it to Harold Smith at Folcroft Sanitarium, Rye, New York.
When he turned, he saw a bumblebee hover outside, on the other side of a plate-glass window. It hovered low enough that the fuzzy death's-head marking on its back was discernible.
"That can't be the same bee," Remo said.
"It is a not-bee," Chiun declared.
"Whatever it is or isn't, it can't be the one we lost back in the city."
Chiun's hazel eyes grew sharp. "Remo, he was watching you all along," he hissed.
"So what?"
"He saw you inscribe that package to Emperor Smith. The address of Fortress Folcroft is now known to outsiders."
"Oh, come off it. A bee that can read! What's he going to do? Hop a flight to New York State and sting Smith?"
"It is not impossible ...." Chiun breathed.
"It is ridiculous," said Remo. "Let's find our gate."
The bee followed them as far into the terminal as there were outside glass windows.