Phule Me Twice

"Makes sense to me," said Sushi. "But what do you think I can do about it?"

"The captain has asked to review the surveillance footage," said Beeker. "It occurs to us that minute computer analysis of the voice and movements of the criminal could provide as good an identification as the face."

"Sure, if you had similar footage of all the possible suspects to compare it to," said Sushi. "You already mentioned the main objection: There are a lot of those King's Men out there. Unless we have all of them on tape, there's no way we can pinpoint which one is the robber."

"We can do one thing fairly quickly," said Beeker. "You're our most accomplished computer user. The captain wishes you to compare the surveillance footage to archival footage of our company. There are several holovid disks available, including the entire company at some point or another. Eliminating the possibility that it is one of ours would be of use."

"What if the opposite happens?" asked Sushi, frowning. "What if the robber is one of our guys?"

"That leaves us no choice," said the butler with a long face. "You must turn him in, and the captain will see to it that he pays the appropriate penalty for his crime. There is no other course of action compatible with the honor of the Legion, as he puts the question. However, I doubt it will come to that event. More likely, the culprit's identity will be revealed in the operation's second phase."

"Second phase?" Sushi leaned forward in his chair, his chin on the fingers of his right hand. "OK, I'll bite. What's the second phase?"

Beeker said, "You are, for all practical purposes, the head of a large quasi-criminal organization. This position gives you access to a large body of information, should you ask for it."

"Yeah, I guess I am the head of the Yakuza," said Sushi. "And sure, they have plenty of information. But what makes you think they have the information the captain needs? There are a lot of petty crooks on this planet, and most of them aren't Japanese."

"No, but the owner of the restaurant is," said Beeker. "He is undoubtedly paying your organization for protection. In return, they should be making an effort to find the man who robbed him."

"Japanese? What's the name of the place?" asked Sushi.

"The restaurant is the New Osaka Grill on Hastings Street. A Mr. Takamine is the owner."

"Yeah, I've eaten in there. Good food, even if it is a bit expensive," said Sushi. "But how does this involve me? If the Yakuza can't find the guy that robbed the place without me..."

"You are the head of that organization," said Beeker. "It necessarily involves you, if someone under their protection is robbed without justice being done. Surveillance information from other businesses under their protection is likely to show the culprit: If he ate in one Japanese restaurant, he probably ate in more than one. You are in a position to obtain and analyze the information, and this will undoubtedly reveal the culprit."

"It'll take a lot of work," said Sushi. "Just getting in all those vids, let alone setting up a program to analyze them..."

"I suggest you make it a priority," said Beeker. "It works to your benefit on two fronts. First, to show that the superfamily you have invented can, in fact, deliver benefits to a local family. And second, you convince the captain that the time you spend on this project does, after all, benefit his company."

"OK, I see what you mean," said Sushi. "I guess I'd better get on it." He sighed. So much for his hopes of joining the gang in the bar tonight-or any time soon.

"You will in time see the rewards for this hard work," said Beeker, standing up.

"I guess I will," said Sushi. "But a nice cold beer was looking good, too."

Beeker raised an eyebrow. "I can assure you, young man, that the beer in the bar will be just as cold when you have finished this task as it is now, and the satisfaction of a job well done will greatly enhance its flavor."

"Oh, I know that," said Sushi. "I just wish I didn't have to be so damned mature all of a sudden."

Beeker gave just the hint of a smile. "Maturity may not be the most attractive way of life, but speaking only for myself, I am just as happy to be able to take part in it. Perhaps, upon reflection, you will feel the same. Good day, young man."

This time it was going to work. This time it had better work, Lola told herself. All things considered, she and Ernie had been lucky to get away with two failed attempts to kidnap the captain. Their luck couldn't hold out much longer. If it didn't work this time, she was going to call it off and deal with the consequences. As long as her bosses didn't decide to lock her and Ernie in the same room, she figured she could deal with anything less a

"He's coming," said the voice in her ear.

"Are you sure?" she hissed.

"Yeah, I'm sure, babe. Ball's in your court." Ernie sounded calm, assured. That didn't fool her. Ernie had been just as sure of himself the last time, when she'd prostrated herself in front of the wrong target, a room service waiter. She hoped the befuddled waiter hadn't reported the incident-or, if he had, that it had been written off as a drunken prank by a customer. If the captain was alerted to the possibility of trouble, the odds of success dramatically dropped. And they were already low enough, as far as Lola was concerned.

After the previous debacle, she had decided that the best way to prevent any warning from reaching the captain was to set the ambush for first thing in the morning, as the captain was on his way to his office. With any luck, he would still be groggy from sleep-or so Lola hoped. There had to be some advantage to getting up at the crack of dawn.

She peered between the fronds of the potted plant as she heard the footsteps nearing. Yes, here came the captain. Lola leapt out into the corridor to sprawl in front of the (hopefully) unsuspecting Legion officer. "Captain! Help me!" she whimpered. She was starting to get good at this act, she realized. Maybe if this caper didn't come off, she could get a job in the Casino's entertainment division, in the chorus behind Dee Dee Watkins.

"What's the matter, miss?" asked Captain Jester, bending over, a concerned look on his face.

Yes! thought Lola, doing her best to keep from smiling. At last, things were working on schedule. "That horrible man's been following me again," she said, doing her best to appear pathetic and intense at the same time.

"He has?" The captain peered around in all directions. "Where is he?"

"He ran back that way," she said, pointing down the cross corridor. It lay on the way to the casino's health club, a facility rarely visited by customers, although the legio

"Show me," said the captain, and again she had to bite her lip to keep from breaking out into a grin.

"Yes, but please stay close to me," she said, allowing him to help her to her feet. "I don't want him finding me alone."

"Don't worry," said the captain. "You'll be all right. He's probably run away by now, but we'll catch him if he hasn't." He began walking quietly-almost supernaturally quietly, and very confidently-down the corridor. It occurred to Lola that he was most likely highly trained at one or more martial arts. It was a good thing their plan didn't require them to engage the captain in unarmed combat. She allowed herself to shudder at the notion-it would add a touch of verisimilitude to her "maiden in distress" act.

The captain stopped and looked down at her. "Don't be afraid now, ma'am," he said, misinterpreting the shudder exactly as she'd hoped he would. "The Legion's in charge here, and we're not going to let anything happen to you."