But as Remo and Chiun closed in on the ladder, it shot upward as if jerked by an invisible string.
The pink bunny melted through the closed hatch as if the hatch were a screen permeable to tiny hot-pink bunnies.
Remo went up the ladder and knocked the hatch aside. Chiun floated up after him, his face furious.
The plush pink bunny twirled in the middle of the roof, as if seeking shelter.
"We've got it now," growled Remo.
"No. The honor of defeating the hitherto-invincible Polarizer Bunny is mine!"
And the Master of Sinanju executed a flying leap that carried him to the pink apparition. One black sandal struck the exact spot where it stood on the roof asphalt with a thud.
"Hah!" cried Chiun, lifting his foot. He looked down. There was a crater in the asphalt, but no pink splotch. His face fell.
"Try behind you," Remo said dryly.
Doom doom doom doom...
Skirts swirling, Chiun whirled. His cheeks puffing out in frustration, he extended his long killing fingernails like a pouncing tiger and flew at it.
The bunny spun, feinted, doubled back and almost succeeded in tricking the Master of Sinanju into leaping off the roof in pursuit.
By that time Remo was moving in on the elusive creature, too. The bunny skated between their legs, circled around them, all the time beating its drum unhurriedly.
"Go for the battery!" Remo shouted. "Maybe that'll stop it!'
Chiun slashed, failed to connect and began stamping every place the energetic rabbit seemed to be. But the bunny was too tricky. Each time Chiun stamped empty air. But inexorably he maneuvered the thing in Remo's direction.
Blocking its path, Remo tried for the battery. His hands swiped empty air futilely.
"Is that the best you can do, sluggish one?" Chiun snapped.
"I can't help it. It just keeps going and going, just like on TV"
The bunny stopped, its plush head going from side to side, as if taunting them with their impotence.
"I got an idea," Remo said, fists clenching.
"Remo, look!"
The Master of Sinanju was pointing skyward. Remo looked up. And forgot all about the impossible pink bunny.
So low over their heads that they could see the menace in their eyes, circled the three shadowy birds of prey. Only now they were no longer shadowy and indistinct, but very near overhead.
They were purple and bony. Their hatchet faces twisted as they peered down at Remo and Chiun, leathery wings flapping, soundless and unreal.
"Terror birds!" squeaked Chiun.
"Pterodactyls, you mean," said Remo, face hardening to bone.
One purple pterodactyl broke off and, beak yawning, made a snatch at Remo. Remo backpedaled easily. Then he caught himself.
"What am I doing? It's not real."
"Do not take a chance, Remo," warned Chiun.
"You know what this is," Remo said to Chiun, circling the roof. "It's no more real than that stupid windup rabbit."
The Master of Sinanju stood rooted as a second purple pterodactyl fixed its beady eyes upon him. Wings folding, it broke off its lazy spiral and went for Chiun's upraised arm.
Chiun wove a web before his face with his fingernails. The pterodactyl's face should have been clawed to ribbons. Instead, it twisted, wings straining to their utmost, vaulting back to rejoin the circle, face unscathed.
"See?" said Remo. "It's not real. None of them are real." He strode over to the pink bunny. "Not even this little guy."
The bunny was zipping around in broken circles, beating its drum in agitation, the name-brand battery on its back clearly visible.
"Forget it, Purcell," Remo shouted through cupped hands. "We know it's you. You don't fool us."
The pink plush bunny continued its crazy weaving pattern, while the purple pterodactyls swarmed so close their claw-tipped wings dipped within reach.
Remo gave one an angry swipe. Remo's hand seemed to disappear into the thing's skin. The batlike creature flew on, unfazed.
The Polarizer Bunny suddenly halted and started spinning in place. It became a whirling top, then a cone that grew, changing color as it expanded. Pink became purple in which other colors made streaks of flesh, yellow blond and neon blue.
When it stopped spinning, the purple-robed figure of the Dutchman, Jeremiah Purcell, stood tall and proud. He gave a toss of his long corn-silk tresses and fixed Remo with his electric blue eyes.
He dropped into an attack crouch. His lips split into a taunting smile.
Remo executed a perfect Sinanju Heron Drop, snapping into the air from a standing start. It took him to a point over the Dutchman's head, both legs coiled under him to deliver a double death blow.
Chiun's shriek of warning came too late.
Legs uncoiling, Remo dropped straight down.
And landed on flat asphalt.
Remo snap-rolled to his feet, turning toward the sound of a beating drum.
Doom doom doom doom...
As he completed his turn, the drum was suddenly behind him. Every time he twisted, Remo just missed his tormentor.
"Face me, Purcell!"
Chiun's voice called. "He is gone, Remo."
"What?"
"There is no one there. Only sounds."
Remo came out of his fighting crouch. His hands relaxed slowly.
The drumbeat faded into nothingness.
The Master of Sinanju padded up to his pupil. "You could have killed yourself with your uncontrolled anger."
Remo frowned. "Come on, Little Father. Let's get to the bottom of this."
Remo turned toward the roof hatch. Poking up was the incredulous face of Big Dick Brull.
"What are you looking at!" Remo barked.
"Nothing," Brull gulped, his head dropping from sight like a gopher retreating into its burrow.
WHEN THEY GOT OFF the ladder, Big Dick Brull and his IRS agents were standing about looking pale and foolish.
"This place is a madhouse," Brull said weakly.
"It is a sanitarium," said Remo.
Harold Smith said, "I could see everything from here. Pterodactyls, were they not?"
"Purple pterodactyls," corrected Remo. "You know what that means."
"I do," said Smith.
"But I don't," barked Big Dick Brull.
"Remo, remove these men while we get to the bottom of this."
"With pleasure," said Remo, abruptly turning. He took Big Dick Brull by the collar and lifted him completely off his feet. Remo set him on the ladder and said, "Either climb up or I'll fling you up there like a bag of manure."
"But-there are pterodactyls up there."
"And there are angry taxpayers down here. Take your pick."
Brull started climbing.
The other agents needed more motivation, so the Master of Sinanju padded up to them and began pinching earlobes between incredibly sharp fingernails.
The unbearable pain sent the IRS agents scrambling up the ladder. The hatch clapped shut.
"Come on," growled Remo.
They went to Purcell's cell.
Remo was saying, "We know Purcell's favorite trick was to create illusions to frighten people. Purple pterodactyls were his favorite. Don't ask me why."
They looked through the window.
Jeremiah Purcell lay on his back staring at the ceiling, unmoving.
"Time to shake him loose," said Remo, lifting the latch bar.
Chiun warned. "Do not harm him, Remo. Remember the legends."
"Screw the legends," said Remo, kicking the door in.
Jeremiah Purcell didn't flex a muscle as Remo moved in on him. His fixed stare never left the high ceiling.
Not even when Remo reached down with both hands to grab the front of his straitjacket.
Remo's fingertips brushed the jacket front and kept going.
"What the hell!"
Chiun leaped to his side. "Remo, what is wrong with your hands?"
"Nothing."
But they had disappeared into the Dutchman's recumbent form as if into a pool of milk.