Remo Williams let out a low whistle. “Looks like King Kong had a temper tantrum with an erector set.”
He stood to the side of the crumbled two-lane highway and looked out over the jagged bits of steel jutting from the river at odd angles. Despite the best efforts of the cleanup and recovery crews, the site was still a mess.
“What’s an erector set?” asked the shapely financier of Enigmas, Unlimited.
“Metal Lincoln Logs,” he replied, knowing the millennial would be just as in the dark as she was before. He was right.
“You know, it wouldn’t kill you to be nice to me,” Diana pouted. “After all, I got you a ride on the Enigmas, Unlimited jet.”
“As I recall, you offered it rather insistently,” Remo said, his eyes scanning the rubble that used to be concrete pylons. “Loudly, too. Trying to make the would-be boyfriend jealous?”
“He is gay,” Chiun’s voice wafted melodiously from several yards away as he wandered the shoreline, stopping now and then to pick up something from the mud.
Diana bristled. “Don’t listen to him,” Remo said. “He also says the Japanese guy on Star Trek is gay.”
“He is,” murmured Hilda.
Over her shoulder, Chiun commented, “I know.”
“Oh! You startled me!” Hilda said, fumbling with a glass beaker she had taken from her case. She adjusted her glasses. “Sorry, I’m not used to people actually listening to me.”
Chiun nodded. “I commiserate. My son has elevated ignoring my words into a perverse art. Of course, my utterances impart the glories of Sinanju, echoing the wisdom of masters across the canyon of ages, against which your vapid protestations are but the squeaks of a mouse. Still, the master is gracious, and acknowledges the mouse when the mouse agrees with the master.”
“Thanks. I think.”
Chiun peered at the beakers Hilda was sorting, and sniffed. “You are wasting your time,” he said sweetly. “There is no alien water in the river.”
“Never know where you may find a clue to solve the mystery,” Hilda said, fastidiously labeling each beaker as she prepared them.
“Ah, you solve mysteries!” Chiun brightened. “Like the scribbler Hagatha Crusty. And you believe the water will help you prove the green men from the farthest stars knocked over your river crossing?”
“Quite the opposite,” she replied. “We always prove there are no aliens or ghosts or vampires involved in any of our enigmas. Ted asks all the questions, Ziggy films it, I do the actual work, and Diana edits everything so that people believe something paranormal happened. At the last minute, we show them the truth.”
“A wise division of labors,” Chiun replied. Gracefully, he scooped up another doodad on the ground that attracted his attention, secreting it away in the folds of his voluminous kimono sleeve. “And what does the Great Danish do?”
“You mean Ruby Lou? She’s Ziggy’s dog. She doesn’t do much of anything except get in the way. Or poop in the back of the van.”
“Hilda, do you have anything yet?” Diana yelled from several yards away with her back turned. “We’ve been here forever already.”
“We’ve been here twelve minutes,” Hilda complained quietly. “I’m going to collect water samples. The best theory I’ve heard is the one about the concrete-metabolizing algae.”
“What about the terrorist theory?” Remo asked.
“What did they use? There’s no evidence of explosives. No smoke, no charring,” Hilda said. “Algae is my bet.”
“Probably terrorists,” Remo mused.
Chiun smiled at Hilda beatifically. “See? Wisdom is spoken, and Remo ignores,” he said calmly, bending over to pluck another object from the mud, slipping it into the folds of his kimono sleeve and humming tunelessly to himself.
Remo picked his way easily across the rocky, broken shore through the rubble as gracefully as a ballroom dancer. Diana attempted to follow him in heels, and succeeded in twisting her ankle. “Ow! Damn!”
“Careful,” Remo said. “This bridge has already killed one person.” He picked up one a small chunk of concrete about the size of a baseball, and rubbed his thumb across it. “She’s right, though,” he added quietly. “Nothing chemical on it. Just a little goopy.” He closed his hand around the chunk and slowly squeezed until the surface of the rock began to powder in his grip. “Still just as strong as concrete should be, too.”
The whoop-whoop warning of a police siren sounded behind him. Remo turned to see an officer stepping out of a patrol car that had pulled up behind their airport rental. “Hey! Hey, all of you!” he called out. “This is a restricted area.”
Remo slipped the concrete into the pocket of his chinos, then turned and lightly jogged across the broken bits of concrete to the shore. He casually approached the officer, careful to keep his hands visible the whole time. “Afternoon, officer,” he said warmly. “Something we can do for you?”
“You bet your ass there is,” he said. “You can gather your buddies up and get the hell out of my crime scene before I run you all in for contaminating evidence.”
Remo reached for his wallet, slowly, and pulled out the ID he had shown Professor Sweet. “Remo D’Cantrill, TSA,” he said, letting the officer take the ID for inspection. “And you are?”
Deputy Frey peered over the ID, front and back, giving it a curiously exhaustive examination before handing it back to Remo with a grunt. “Deputy Nelson Frey,” he said. “They TSA too?”
“The ladies are EPA,” Remo said. “They’re testing the water for contamination.” Hilda looked at Diana nervously, but Diana was too concerned nursing her swollen ankle.
“And the old guy?”
“Homeless bum,” Remo deadpanned. He heard Chiun’s nearly inaudible gasp from yards away and grinned. “I’m kidding. He’s on loan from the FBI. He’s supposed to be an expert on UFOs and Little Gray Men.”
“Green,” Chiun muttered bitterly.
Deputy Frey rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me the TSA is taking that alien invasion story seriously,” he said.
“No stone unturned,” Remo said. “Wait, you said this was a crime scene? I was told this was just an old bridge that finally buckled. What’s changed?”
“I’ve got a missing persons case attached to this one,” the deputy said. “More plainly it’s a missing body case, probably still buried under that mess.”
“Ew!” Diana cried, suddenly finding the energy to get up and hobble down from the rubble.
“Who’s the missing person?” Remo asked.
“Don’t know,” Frey said. “I saw him here before the whole thing fell down.”
“Is he a suspect, then?”
“Not likely,” Frey replied. “I talked to him and checked him out. He showed me ID, said he was a lineman for the county.”
“This guy have a name?”
“Yeah, but I don’t remember it,” the deputy admitted. “I didn’t run his ID or I’d have a record to go back to. Only talked to him because I thought it was suspicious for him to be alone out here without any truck or equipment. He said he was waiting on his buddy to show up before they could start work. He wasn’t all twitchy like someone who got caught in a crime. Come to think of it,” Frey mused, “he was extremely calm. Didn’t flinch at all at the badge, but didn’t disrespect it either. He was just all business. Anyway, he’s probably buried under all that. Poor son of a gun.”
“Have you called the county utility board to see who hasn’t come in to work?” Remo asked.
Frey’s mouth opened a few times before he was able to speak, and his cheeks heated up. “I was just about to put that call in when I saw the bunch of you down there,” he said.
“Good idea.” He looked down the bank. Hilda was capping off bottles of muddy water while Diana bent over to massage her twisted ankle.
“We may go now,” said Chiun, silently materializing at Remo’s side.
“Holy jeez!” Deputy Frey jumped at the sudden appearance of the frail looking Korean. “Sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t see you there.”
Chiun smiled. “Occluded vision seems to be contagious in this place,” he said. “Even my son seems to have succumbed to this malady. Perhaps the land is cursed.”
Frey pulled his hat down tightly over his forehead. “Anyway, if you folks are finished, I’d appreciate it if you’d clear the area.”
Remo gave a thin-lipped smile and a two-fingered salute. “We’ll be out of here in two shakes of a lamb’s tail,” he said, as Hilda closed up her case of equipment and helped Diana hobble back up the bank.