"Destroyer 029 - The Final Death.pdb" - читать интересную книгу автора (Williams Remo)

"Why?"
"So you can help him get his soap opera on the air."
"Soap opera? What soap opera?"
"Chiun's written a soap opera," Remo explained happily. "It tells all about his life and career in America."
"His life and career?" Smith said. "It talks about us? About CURE?"
"Does it ever? But you really come off good, Smitty. Not penny-pinching or narrow-minded or anything. Just another big-hearted, friendly hirer of assassins."
"Oh, my god," Smith groaned. "Talk to him and find out how much he wants to throw it away."
"You're a philistine, Smitty. You'll never understand that us artists just can't be bought and sold that way. I'm surprised at you."
Smith sighed. "I'm not surprised at you. Not anymore. Not at anything."
"Anyway, Smitty. Just leave the whole thing to me. I'll take care of it for you. Now why did you bring us to a graveyard?"
Smith led them toward a slight rise in the ground. Down in a small hollow, a fat-faced minister, sweating despite the January chill,
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was mumbling prayers next to a casket, surrounded by two dozen persons.
"This is the funeral of Vincent Angus," Smith said. "He was one of our contacts in the meat industry. Of course, he didn't know he was reporting to us. Now we figure he was on to something because he was murdered. They found him dead in a tree. The flesh peeled off his body. That's why you're here."
"I didn't do it. I was in North Dakota," Remo said. He looked toward Chiun but the Oriental was listening to the prayers below.
"I know you didn't do it," Smith said. "Now this is complicated but pay attention. Someone has been trying to work out a way to introduce poison into America's food supply. That convention load of veterans at the hotel who all died. That was from the poison. Now under the guise of the swine-flu program we've managed to inoculate a lot of Americans, and we think the vaccine is 100 percent effective."
"So that solves your problem," Remo said.
"No, that doesn't solve our problem. One. We don't know if the vaccine is perfectly effective. Two. We can't give the vaccine to everybody because the swine-flu program's not mandatory."
"Why not?"
"Political reasons."
"Then let me talk to the politicians," Remo said.
"Remo," cautioned Smith.
"Ahhh, it's always like this, Smitty. I know what you're going to tell me. Find out who's doing the poisoning and stop them. That's al-
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ways how it is. Find this and find that and find out how it works and find out how to stop it. I'm an assassin, not a scientist. Can't you just aim me at somebody?" He looked around for support to Chiun, but Chiun had drifted down the hillside and was now standing among the band of mourners, listening to the booming voice of the Rev. Titus Murray, whose three chins bobbed with the effort.
"And so we say farewell to Vincent Anthony Angus, good husband, father, skilled craftsman. A boon to his community, his family, and his church."
Rev. Murray took a moment to compose himself and wiped his face with a handkerchief.
"Rest in peace," he finished. "May God have mercy on-your soul."
"What did this guy tell you before he got killed?" asked Remo.
"He reported a shortage of flank beef."
"Oh, well. That explains it. The giant flank cartel had to silence him before their secret got out."
"And he complained about the Department of Agriculture stamp on the meat in his restaurant. Said it was too thick and tinny tasting. I reviewed the tape last night."
"That's no help," Remo said. "Where'd he get the meat from?"
"Meatamation Industries. A salesman named O'Donnell."
"Okay. We'll see about him," Remo said.
He looked up to see Chiun coming up the hill with an attractive dark-haired girl in a long black dress.
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Chiun bowed to Smith. "Emperor, knowing your great interest in this matter, I have arranged for this child to tell you all about the death of this poor man."
Smith looked shocked.
The young woman spoke. "I'm Victoria Angus. Are you really an emperor?"
Smith sputtered. "Chiun, did you... . . have you. . . .?"
Chiun raised a consoling hand. "You need not worry yourself. I have told her nothing about your secret duties in Rye, New York, or the roles that Remo and I play in your plan to make America a better nation. Perhaps someday you can do me a favor in return."
"Report regularly," Smith said. He walked rapidly away.
"He's a very strange emperor," Viki Angus said.
"He can't stand funerals," said Remo.
"What's your name?" the woman asked.
"Remo."
"Remo what?"
"That's right. Remo Watt. Chiun you already know."
"Yes. Were your friends of my father's?"