sh。 Hush。 Hush。
Okay； pal； slow down。 That lady in the car saw you laughing to yourself。 Slow it down。 Move the oxygen around。 Go back to that room they gave you during training。 You remember the room。 The quiet room。 Remember every detail； just how it felt。 Quiet room。 Black carpeting。 The couch。
〃You can always e back to this room in your mind；〃 Chiun had said。 〃This is your safety； your retreat。 When your mind or your body needs rest； e back。 You are safe here。 And loved here。 No one may enter whom you do not invite。 Just send vour mind back here。〃
And Remo went back to the room and just sat with Chiun as he had sat before。 And his mind cooled and some strength returned。 The woman's face was familiar。 Or was it？ People are recognized more by the way they walk or hold their head than by features。 Features are only the final； the last； proof of recognition。
It was a hard face； a very old thirty five； under smooth flaxen hair。 She rested a bare arm on the window opening of the convertible。
〃Hi there； fella。 How are you？〃
〃Do I know you？〃
〃No； but I know you。 The chess game。 You couldn't see me。 Magnificent move。〃
〃Oh；〃 said Retno。
〃I'm Anna Stohrs。 Dr。 Stohrs' daughter； the chess instructor。 I'm also president of the daughters' association of Brewster Forum。〃
〃A lot of daughters here？〃
〃Yes； but none like me。〃
〃That's nice；〃 Remo said。。
〃I think you're cute。 Let's。〃
〃Let's what？〃
〃You know。〃
〃No。〃
〃Why not？〃。
〃I'm a virgin。〃。；。
〃I don't believe you。〃
〃Okay； I'm not a virgin；〃 Remo agreed。
He could see her play her eyes down his body； lingering at his groin。
〃Would you do it for pay？〃 she asked。
〃No。〃
〃Why not？〃
〃You think you're cute； don't you？〃
She smiled an even…toothed smile； an attractive but hard smile。 She tilted her head back in arrogance。 〃I know I'm cute； copper。〃
She had switched tactics； to pricking the ego； setting herself as a tough prize； much like the heroine of a lovely little novel Remo had once read。 He leaned into the car。
〃Not caring about someone；〃 he said； 〃is apologizing。 I apologize。 I have an appointment。〃
And he left for the circle of the Forum； to attempt to track down Doctor Hirshbloom； to finish the set…up on her before he took his wonderful day off。
Strange about her。 All the other scientists had sought him out after the incident with the cycle gang。 Father Boyle had been the first interview and a surprisingly difficult fix。 Like most Jesuits； he made a career of not seeming like a priest； while deeply acting out his faith。
He sat with his big feet on his very little desk。 Remo had learned to distrust people who sat with their feet on the desk。 It was usually a e…on by ho； ho； ho； one…big…happy…family fakers trying to get a hustler's edge。
But Remo was willing to forgive and forget in Boyle's case； especially since Boyle had been the only man at the chess tournament the first night to act like a human being。
Now Remo found himself looking at the gargantuan soles of the mammoth shoes on the heroic feet of the Rev。 Robert A。 Boyle； S。 J。 The Sorbonne。 M。I。T。 Anthropologist。 Classical Scholar。 Mathematician。 Director of Bio…cycle Analysis at Brewster Forum。
Remo ran his mind back over the pornographic photos of Boyle。 Yes； they had shown his giant feet。 Remo had seen them； memorized them； but they had not registered。 His perceptions were slipping。 It was the three month peak。 He was falling apart。
〃Well？〃 Boyle had sat up at the desk and was looking at Remo。
〃Well what？〃
〃I was wondering what you thought of our looney bin。〃
〃A great place to visit。 I wouldn't want to live here。〃
〃Not much chance of that。 Your presence here seems to have a deleterious effect on the quietude of our little rest home。 First； making Ratchett look silly at the chess tournament。 And then yesterday that show with those hooligans。〃
〃It's what I get paid for；〃 Remo answered laconically。 Stop being a nice guy； he thought。 Be a bastard。 Then I can figure out a way to kill you； without any regrets。
〃I'll have to ask you a lot of questions；〃 Boyle said。
〃Is there any reason I should answer them？〃
If he had heard； Boyle ignored him。 〃I'll need to know where you were born and where you were brought up。 Your native stock。 All the usual dates and anniversaries。 When you went to prison。〃
The alarm light flashed in Remo's mind。 Prison？ What did Boyle know。。。 what could he know。。。 about Remo's past？ He forced himself into calmness。 〃Prison？〃 he asked casually。 〃What made you think I'd been in prison？〃
〃It's been my experience；〃 Boyle said； his cool blue eyes looking guilelessly into Remo's hard face； 〃that people who are so quick tempered and so efficiently violent usually have seen the inside of a cage。 At least in this country。 In mine； we make them prime ministers。〃
〃Well； that's one against you；〃 Remo answered。 〃Never been in prison。 At least； not in this life。〃 Which was technically true。
Boyle made a note on a yellow pad with a stub of a pencil held in his big pink bricklayer's hands。 He looked up again。 〃Shall we go on？〃
〃Can you give me a reason why we should？〃
Boyle walked to a small refrigerator in a corner of his office。 Remo declined a drink and Boyle poured himself a water tumbler full of Irish whisky。 Alcohol abstinence was not one of his vows。
〃Sure。 It'll keep me on the job here and of the parish bingo circuit for another year。〃
〃Fair enough。〃
By the time the tumbler of whisky was drained； Remo had learned that bio…cycle analysis was the study of rhythms in men's lives。 Boyle contended that there were unconscious rhythms that determined behavior。
〃If we can isolate those individual rhythms； we can understand behavior。 Maybe even predict or control it。〃
Boyle showed Remo a bar chart。 〃See this line？〃 he asked pointing to a vertical bar。 〃Accidents per 10；000 driving hours in a Tokyo cab pany。〃
〃Now this line；〃 he said； pointing to a shorter bar。 〃Accidents per 10；000 hours six months later。 Why the difference？〃
〃They probably hired German hackies。 You ever see Japs drive？〃
An honest laugh fractured Boyle's tomatoed face。 〃No。 Same drivers。 But the pany analyzed their body cycles and notified them to be careful on days that we call 'critical。' Just that； and the accident rate's cut in half。 Follow me？〃
〃Maybe。 What kind of cycles are there？ Do they really control people？ Do you really believe in this horseshit？〃
Boyle went on to explain that after a half…century of study； scientists had isolated three cycles： a 23…day emotional cycle； a 28…day physical rhythm and a 33…day intellectual cycle。 But now； with puters； science could absorb vast amounts of data on enormous numbers of people。 〃If we feed enough facts into the machinery； we may be able to detect totally new cycles and rhythms。 Rhythms of love。 Or hate。〃
〃Why'd you want to talk to me？〃
〃Our basic study around here is violence。 You're the first violent man we've had here in years。 A rarity。 Someone who doesn't intellectualize everything to death。〃
〃Did you study McCarthy？ The man I replaced？〃
〃Yes； I did。 You know he was murdered； don't you。〃
Boyle was the second man to tell Remo that McCarthy had been murdered。 He looked blankly at the priest。 〃No； I didn't know。 I thought he mitted suicide。〃
〃Horseshit； to borrow your word。 On the day he was killed； McCarthy was experiencing a very rare phenomenon。 His emotional； physical and intellectual cycles all happened to coincide at a peak。 It should have been the brightest day of his life。 Men don't mit suicide on days like that。〃
； 〃Who'd want to kill him？〃 Remo asked； watching Boyle's face carefully。 〃As far as I could find out； he wasn't mixed up in anything。 Not like blackmail。。。 or a porno ring。〃
Boyle showed no reaction at all。 〃Damned if I know who did him in。 But I hope you find out who it was。 McCarthy was a decent sort。〃
Boyle began to ask Remo a string of long； generally harmless questions about his life。 Remo stuck to the fake biography of the fake Remo Pelham。 Whenever Boyle got close to Remo's true past； to CURE； to his mission； Remo lied。 It took over an hour。
Remo found he was in the fourth day of his emotio