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"Seen enough?" Bogen asked impatiently.
I nodded. "For now, anyway. I'm impressed, I have to say that." I was more
than impressed. The damned things scared me to death.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Wagant Laroo
I spent an extremely comfortable night in one of the guest rooms, surrounded
by old masters and sleeping in the kind of computer-controlled luxury I'd
almost forgotten existed. I slept late, knowing I might need all my wits about
me, and had a sumptuous brunch; then, with the permission of the National
Police, and under their extremely watchful eyes, I toured the collections
upstairs. All in all it was a fascinating day as well as providing solutions
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to enough unsolved spectacular thefts to earn any cop a seat in the hall of
fame, if they have one.
In the late afternoon a flier approached and landed on the front lawn I still
found so nice. Out stepped five men, each carrying a briefcase. There was
nothing particularly unusual about any of them, so I could only stare out the
window and wonder which was Laroo.
That, it seemed, was the real trick.
"You never know which one of the party is him," Bogen warned me. "He has about
two dozen people that are so good at acting that they actually represent him
at various functions, and he usually travels with a group. He can be any one
of them and you're never sure if you're talking to the real one or not."
That made me a little nervous. "So the real one might not be here at all."
"Oh, one of 'em's him, I guarantee. This is that kind of decision. The best
way is just to treat any of 'em as if he were Laroo. The real one'll get
everything."
I nodded uneasily, and we went down to the Lord of the Diamond's elaborate
office. The idea that Laroo played such tricks made me a bit uneasy. Another
thing that could go wrong, I thought nervously.
I was ushered in and introduced to a tall, handsome man with prematurely white
hair that gave him the look of a distinguished politician. I looked over at
the others. One of them was short and fat and looked a little like Otah, but
hardly anything like I imagined the Lord of Cerberus should look. I'd pick
that one, I
noted to myself. Nobody could ever take somebody who looked like that
seriously as a dictator. I looked around at the others sitting there, relaxed,
eyes on me.
I wondered if they knew who was who right now.
I went up to the Laroo indicated, stopped, and bowed slightly.
He put out his hand and flashed a politician's smile. "You don't have to go
through that shit," he told me pleasantly. "We're all businessmen here. Here,
have a seat and make yourself comfortable."
I did as instructed. He just sat there a moment, looking me over. "So you're a
First-Class Assassin," he finally said.
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"Was," I responded, relaxing a bit "I'm no longer interested in that part of
the work."
"I've viewed the tape of your conversation with Bogen yesterday and checked
the instrument readings. It seems we have a truly valuable and interesting man
in you, Zhang. I'm curious, though. If you volunteered for all this, why did
you turn yourself around?"
"I didn't volunteer," I told him truthfully. "I was nominated, elected, put to
sleep, briefed, and woke up on the prison ship."
He laughed at that. "Sounds like 'em, all right. And now you're in business
for yourself. Well, I have a few more questions of a more practical nature."
"Fire away."
"First, assuming we let you go ahead with this, what guarantees do we have
that you won't double-cross us?"
It was my turn to laugh. "Double-cross you? All by myself? Look, turn it
around.
Once I've done it, what guarantee do I have that you won't then decide just to
terminate me?"
"Fair enough. So we're starting on the basis of mutual trust. A good
foundation.
You know what we expect to gain. What about you? What do you want out of
this?"
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"Well, before we go anywhere with this, I'd like my wife's judgment set aside.
She's got some mental problems and the judgment stands in the way of solving
them. That comes before anything as a gesture of trust. Also, I'm going to
need her, since she's the only check I have that the Confederacy's agents
won't pull a fast one on me."
Wagant Laroo seemed more than a little amused, as did the others. I noted with
some discomfort that their reactions to my statements were virtually
simultaneous and identical.
"You know, I like you, Zhang, or whatever your name really is. Here you are, a
prisoner on my island, and with a flick of a finger I could sweep you away as
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