"Oh, well," I responded regretfully.

"So much for that idea. Don't worry about it. I should get plenty of chances to talk to Lacone and everyone else in the next few days."

She changed gears so fast that I nearly dropped the phone.

"I don't mind," she drawled.

"Alex probably won't tell me anything useful unless I let him fondle me. But that might be fun. I'll just imagine your reaction. I can see you now, gnashing your teeth while he slides his hands into my blouse " "Stop it!" I croaked.

"You'll cause a pile-up. I'm driving badly enough as it is."

She gave me the throaty laugh that made me want to tear her clothes off. Somehow I kept the Subaru on the road.

For a couple of minutes we chatted about other things. I had about a dozen questions I wanted to pursue, most of which could be summed up in one. Why me? But I was already lost in a tangle of freeways, and every mile I drove threatened to make the problem worse. I needed to get out my map, regain my bearings.

Manfully I said goodbye and hung up the phone.

My ear burned for twenty minutes afterward.

Fourteen.

Once I'd figured out where I was, I decided I had time for one more chore, so I tacked and hauled my way back to Acme Cars Cheap, where I exchanged the Subaru for a battered Plymouth van with no back seats, an industrial-strength air conditioner, and almost enough leg room. When the air in the Plymouth had finally cooled enough to dry my skin, I located the nearest fast-food joint a Burger Boutique, forsooth ate a quick meal, and returned to The Luxury Hotel and Convention Center.

I arrived twenty minutes early, but Anson Sternway appeared less than five minutes later, wearing his usual lack of expression.

He'd traded in his dignitary clothes, including the blazer, for casual grey slacks and a white cotton shirt with long sleeves, but he still moved like an ambulatory vial of nitroglycerin. Neither of us offered to shake hands. We'd already done that.

Just being polite, I asked, "What brings you here?" Since nothing I said ever made an impression on him anyway, I tried a leaden joke.

"Returning to the scene of the crime?"

He didn't react. Maybe he didn't get it.

"Mr. Lacone can't be here," he told me flatly.

"He has other commitments, so he asked me to show you around Martial America."

I raised my eyebrows.

"Do you run this kind of errand for him often?" I would've assumed that the Director of the LAMA had better things to do.

He shrugged slightly.

"I'm on retainer with Martial America. Mr. Lacone pays for my time."

Then he added, "He'd like a call from you this afternoon." Effortlessly he produced a business card and handed it to me.

"You can use his private line. He wants your assessment of Martial America's security."

Marshal had already warned me twice, so I didn't ask, Is there anything you won't do for a few bucks? Instead I said, "Thanks," and pocketed the card.

We waited together in silence for a while. HRH seemed too superior for small talk. I had plenty of new questions for him, but I wasn't sure that I could get through them before Essential Shotokan's people arrived.

Sure enough, a few minutes later Hideo Komatori and three other men parked their run-down Dodge station wagon under the portico. If I hadn't talked to him yesterday, I might not've recognized him. He seemed like an entirely different person in a lightweight seersucker suit, sky blue shirt, and bolo tie. Through the glass of the main doors, he only reminded me of himself by his upright posture and easy carriage.

Once he entered the lobby, of course, I could see his scar.

His companions also wore suits that looked too warm not to mention formal for earner's climate. Two of them were young, hardly more than teenagers. The third was considerably older, maybe forty-five. They all walked self-consciously erect, too aware of being emissaries for Essential Shotokan to match Ko-ma tori air of comfort.

He was the only Asian among them and the only one who wasn't sweating.

Apparently the Dodge sported Subaru-quality AC.

From a distance of ten feet, they paused to bow carefully to Sternway.

His bow in return probably should've looked casual, but by comparison it seemed negligent. However, it didn't bother Komatori. Amiably he moved closer to shake Sternway's hand. His companions stayed where they were.

"Komatori-sem." Sternway's greeting sounded marginally warmer than the one he'd given me.

"Sternway sensei," Komatori answered respectfully.

"You honor us."

Sternway spread his hands.

"The honor is mine. I'm pleased to help Mr. Axbrewder protect Nakahatchi sensei's treasure."

On cue Komatori turned to me, bowed, and offered his hand.

"Axbrewder-semI'm relieved by your involvement. Now the chops will be safe. Please tell us how we may assist you."

I shook his hand easily enough.

"Call me Brew.

"Axbrewder-san' takes too long." But after that I had to scramble to get up to speed. All this politeness left me behind.

Fortunately Komatori gave me a moment to think by introducing the men with him all students of Nakahatchi's. They bowed fulsomely to Sternway, took turns shaking my hand. By then I was ready.

"There won't be any trouble," I said to Komatori, projecting confidence with all my might, "but we've got three cars, so we can take an extra precaution. We'll load the display into your wagon. Mr. Sternway can lead us to Martial America. You'll follow him, I'll follow you.

"That's overkill, I know." I wasn't even a little bit worried about an attempt on the chops in broad daylight.

"But we might as well get in the habit of being careful."

I couldn't read Sternway's expression, but he agreed with a nod.

Komatori acted duly respectful, and the students seemed gratified that their responsibility for these priceless artifacts was being taken so seriously. Together we swung into action, in a manner of speaking.

After I'd signed out the display from the hotel manager's safe room, transferring liability from The Luxury to Martial America and Nakahatchi, Komatori and his men loaded it reverently into the Dodge.

Sternway brought his car, a middle-aged Camaro with more muscle than brains, around to the portico and took the lead. When I had the Plymouth in position, we headed out.