The thing was foolproof. He would explain to the men the terrible tragedy that had befallen the cause of law enforcement; he would let them know that they were the elite shock troops of thousands who would come after; he would announce his plans for a private investigation force against crime; he would let them know, without ever saying it, that they were entering a period when the assassination teams would lie quiet for a while. And without their ever realizing it, he would tie them to him politically, as the first step in his plan to gain political power.
McGurk stood up and looked out into the big gym room. Christ, policemen were noisy. There was a crowd around the table with the liquor; the table with the sandwiches was deserted. The forty men in the room sounded like four hundred.
He stepped through Janet's empty office and paused in the doorway to the gym. He caught the eyes of two men who stood at the large steel doors leading to the hallway and nodded. They were his sergeants-at-arms. The thought made him chuckle. One was a deputy police chief from Chicago, the other an inspector from Los Angeles. Sergeants-at-arms. They had made sure that no one but Men of the Shield entered the room. Now they would turn away company until the meeting was over.
The heavy doors swung shut behind the men who took up their positions in the outside hallway, and McGurk moved out to start greeting the policemen.
Remo had hung up the telephone after two rings, jumped back in the car and began the maddening drive cross-town to McGurk's headquarters.
"Drive right," Chiun said.
"I am driving right. If you don't drive like a kamikaze pilot, they know you're from out of town and they terrorize you." Remo swerved between two cars, giving one driver an attack of nerves, and clearing the other's sinuses.
"It is not necessary for them to terrorize me," Chiun said. "You are perfectly equipped for the task."
"Dammit, Chiun, do you want to drive?"
"No, but if I did want to drive, I would do it with a sense of responsibility to the men of Detroit who have managed to build this vehicle so well it has not yet fallen apart."
"Next time, walk. Who invited you anyway?"
"I need no invitation. But are you not glad that the Master was there when you needed him?"
"Right on, Chiun, yeah, yeah, yeah."
"Insolent."
It seemed like forever, but actually it was only minutes later, when they pulled into a parking spot at a fire hydrant near the building on Twentieth Street.
They were met at the top of the stairs by McGurk's two doormen.
"Sorry, men," the taller one said. "Private meeting now. No one allowed without authorization."
"That's ridiculous," Remo said. "We were invited here by McGurk."
"Yeah?" the police officer said suspiciously. His hand went to an inside pocket and took out a list of names.
"What are your names?" he asked.
"I'm S. Holmes. This is C. Chan."
The officer scanned the list quickly. "Where are you from?"
"We're with Hawaii Five-Oh."
"Oh."
"No. Five-Oh," Remo corrected.
"Let me see." The policeman looked down again at the sheet. His partner looked with him.
Remo raised his hands and brought them down fingers first into their collarbones. The two men dropped.
"Adequate," Chiun said.
"Thank you. I didn't want you to go killing them," Remo said. "For at least a week after you have duck, you're uncontrollable."
He opened the door and dragged the two unconscious men inside, into the small foyer. He checked to make sure they would be out for at least an hour, then propped them in a sitting position against the wall.
He snapped the lock behind him and Chiun, sealing anyone else outside.
He and Chiun paused at the glass, looking inside the room. Remo spotted McGurk immediately, moving through the small clusters of policemen, shaking a hand here, patting a shoulder there, but moving steadily toward the small stage at the front of the hall
"That's him," Remo said pointing. "McGurk."
Chiun sipped in his breath. "He is an evil man."
"Now, how the hell can you say that? You don't even know him."
"One can tell by the face. Man is a peaceable creature. He must be taught to kill. He must be given a reason. But this one? Look at his eyes. He likes to kill. I have seen eyes like those before."
The crowd was now drifting toward the folding wooden chairs that had been set up. Remo said, "Chiun, you're a sweet guy and all but you just don't look like a detective sergeant from Hoboken. You'd better stay out here while I go inside."
"Whistle if you need me."
"Right."
"You know how to whistle? Just put your lips together and blow."
"You've been watching The Late Show again."
"Go earn your keep," Chiun commanded.
Remo slipped inside the heavy door and moved easily into the flow of the crowd, drifting into a group of men headed for seats in the back. He kept his chin burrowed down into his chest and changed his gait to make identification more difficult, in case McGurk should be looking his way. Most of the men in the room were still wearing their hats. He picked one up from a folding chair and planted it on his head, pulling it down to shield his eyes, lest McGurk spot them.
McGurk was now at the base of the stairs leading to the stage. He took the steps in a bound and then stood, without a microphone, in front of the men, signalling them by his silence that it was time to sit down and listen.
Slowly, the forty men settled into the seventy five chairs. Assassins from all over the country, Remo thought, and then changed his mind. No. Not assassins. Just men who were fed up with the obstacles society threw in their way when they were trying to do a job. Just men who believed in law and order so much that, foolishly, they would go outside the law to secure it. McGurk's dupes.
McGurk raised his hands for silence. The babbling drifted off into a stillness that hung over the room.
"Men of the Shield," McGurk said deeply, "welcome to New York."
He looked slowly around the room.
"This is a proud moment for me, but a deeply sorrowful one too. I'm proud because I am meeting with you men, the finest policemen-no, let me say cops because the word doesn't embarrass me-the finest cops in our nation…men who have put their lives on the line many times in the never ending struggle for law and order in our land. And men… I don't have to remind you… who have made that extra special commitment that few others have the courage to make.
"In a little more than an hour, the press is going to be in here and I'm going to tell the nation about the formation of the Men of the Shield. I'm going to tell them how we will become a national clearing house to solve the crimes that plague our cities and make our streets unsafe. Already I have information"-he paused and chuckled slightly-"on several of the more dastardly crimes that have been committed in the current wave of violence that has hit the country."
He chuckled again and this time several policemen joined in.
"And let me tell you this," McGurk said. "The criminals responsible for those crimes will be punished. And that will show that the Men of the Shield mean business. And from that moment on, our goal will be to bring every policeman and every law enforcement officer in the country under our banner; so that together we can get on with the job of stamping out crime. When the politicians won't act, when the prosecutors turn their heads, when the bleeding hearts try to stop the law, the Men of the Shield will be there, investigating, finding the truth and forcing society to bring to bear its full weight against the evil-doers in our land."
Remo smiled to himself. So that's what it was all about. Planting clues at the scene of a crime, then planting the evidence on someone they wanted to hang. A quick, easy way to get a national reputation and, in the process, get rid of a couple of baddies. Well planned, McGurk.