The Bannerman Solution (The Bannerman Series) (38 page)

“He's shaking Billy's hand,” she beamed. “I bet he'd
just die to meet Anton Zivic.”

Anton brushed that lunacy aside. “Could this young
man really be so
...
inept?”

“He's probably competent enough,” she shook her
head. “He's young and he's star struck. I think it's kind
of
….”

“Flattering,” he said sternly.

“Oh, loosen up, Anton. It's been three years since
anyone looked at us like that. He's in awe. I got the same
way when I ran into Paul Newman buying vegetables at
t
he Korean's
.”

Zivic closed his eyes as if in prayer that sanity would
soon return. “What do you suggest we do with him?”

“You're the boss.”

“An opinion, please.”

Her smile faded. “Don't tell Paul. Let him go and
enjoy.”

“And the young man? This Poole?”

“Let him go, too, before they miss him. Take him
back to his car and tell him he's welcome to watch us all
he pleases as long as he's discreet about it. Chances are
he'd be too embarrassed to report that he was taken so
easily and interrogated.”

“John?” Anton invited his opinion.

“She makes sense. Keep him or hurt him and you
force Reid's hand. Let him watch us and that way we
watch him, too, and he sees what we want.”

“What do you make of the girl's father being fol
lowed?”

Molly answered. “If they know about Susan they
know who her father is. If I were Reid, I'd wonder how

and if Paul is connected to a man like Raymond Lesko.
It's a blind alley. Let him follow it
.
”

“
This seems careless
.”

“
‘To me it seems considerate. Would you want Paul to
cancel his vacation over this? He will, you know.”

Slowly, frowning, Zivic nodded agreement
.

“We must have black-and-white glossies made up.”
He turned to the door. “Perhaps a team photograph for
all future Doug Pooles.”

“T-shirts would be good, too,” John Waldo growled.

CHAPTER 13

That Thursday evening. Late

Robert Loftus had spent the afternoon following Raymond Lesko from one hotel to another before it dawned on him that they were all Beckwith properties. He returned to the NSA communications center, housed in the headquarters building of one of the major broadcast networks, where he made some discreet inquiries of the New York City Police Department and listened to that day and that evening's tapes of both Raymond and Susan Lesko's phone calls. Doug Poole checked in at eight, behaving a bit strangely but having nothing to report except that he'd spotted Anton Zivic. Loftus attributed that to having spent an afternoon in Westport and getting out intact. He was more con
cerned about Frank Burdick, who had not reported in at all.

Wearily, he punched out the number of Palmer Reid's Maryland home. Reid answered on the second ring. He identified himself. Reid said “Report.” Loftus could hear the clink of ice cubes against glass
. Maybe
after this call he could relax with a drink of his own.

“Sir,” he read from his notes, “first of all, Lesko
wasn't meeting anyone at the Beckwith Regency. He's a security consultant for the Beckwith chain and has been
for a year. He spent the afternoon visiting other Beck
with hotels and right now he's back in his room. Room
service brought him his dinner and a typewriter.
He`s
probably doing reports.”

“Perhaps, but go on.”

Loftus resisted an urge to flash a middle finger at the
mouthpiece. “Secondly, he did not at any time meet
with Bannerman. I continue to believe they don't know
each other. Bannerman was at his Westport office when Poole got there. Poole says there's no particular activity
in Westport either, although he did see Anton Zivic
leaving Bannerman's office. Apparently a routine visit.”

“If you say so, Robert.”

The finger twitched again. “Finally, Lesko called his
daughter an hour ago. That's how I know what he's
doing in his room. He told her. Lesko then asked the
daughter for the particulars of her travel plans. ‘In case
someone gets sick’ was the reason he gave. They are, it
turns out, going to Switzerland but not to Zurich.
They're going first to London where they'll board that
restored Orient Express train. The train passes through Zurich, but they don't get off. Their final destination is
Klosters. Bannerman has rented a chalet there. The
daughter says that's where they'll be for the whole
three weeks. I have the address and phone number.”

“I see.” Reid allowed a silence to settle. “So you're satisfied, I take it, that it's all an innocent romantic ad
venture.”

“Unless you know something I don't, sir.”

“At the moment, it's more a question of what Mr.
Donovan knows. I'm afraid he's been on the phone
again.”

“Asking about Bannerman?”

“And getting answers. He knows, Robert.”

“He knows what part?”

“Who Bannerman is. Or was. He has a call in now to
Roger Clew who, fortunately, is in Mexico at the mo
ment.”

“Are you sure he knows that, sir?”

“Why would you doubt it?”

“Because I think he would have gone straight to
Lesko with that information and Lesko would have
stopped that ski trip very damned fast. But I'm sure
Lesko didn't know as of an hour ago.”

“Good point, Robert. Why would he not have called
Lesko?”

“Probably because he wants confirmation first. More
d
etails. But whether he talks to Roger Clew or not, he
won't wait past Bannerman's flight tomorrow.”

“I've seen to that, Robert.”

“
Sir?

“I've had him taken.”

Loftus closed his eyes and bit hard into his lower lip.
“Burdick?” he asked.

“Among others.”

Loftus was speechless. “Sir,” he managed, “may I
respectfully remind you that Donovan is a former U.S.
Attorney? And that Burdick is a fucking goon?”

Reid took in a breath at Loftus's choice of adjectives,
but did not comment. “Thoughtful casting was not a
requirement, Robert. I merely wanted the man re
moved from circulation until I can have a friendly chat
with him.”

“When will that be?”

“Tomorrow morning. Do you know Ambassador Pol
lard's residence in Scarsdale?”

“Yes.”

“You may reach me there if you learn anything else.
Your presence, however, will not be required.”

“Mr. Reid, I hope you know what you're. . .
“
'

“Good night, Robert.”

Friday morning, after breakfast.

Raymond Lesko's
mood had not improved much at all.

He glanced at his watch. Susan's flight was in about
ten hours. This time tomorrow she'd be on a mountain somewhere. He hated the thought of her being that far
away. Right now. Too many things didn't feel right.

One of which was that Buzz Donovan didn't show
up at Gallagher's last night, and he didn't answer his
phone at home, and he didn't answer it this morning,
either. Garage man says his car's still there but no Dono
van.

Another aggravation was finding out this morning
that goddamned David Katz doesn't just hang around
his Queens bedroom. Four this morning, he shows up at
the Beckwith Regency.

Damned dreams. Seemed like all night long. With
the whole cast of characters. Loftus was in one. Just
sneaking around again. Lesko wished he'd squeezed
him harder when he had the chance so he wouldn't
have to stew about him when he could be sleeping. And
Bannerman was there, this time younger and thinner
but with slicked
down hair and a pencil mustache.
Looked like what they used to call a lounge lizard.

Lesko knew Bannerman didn't look like that any more than he looked like he did in yesterday's dream.
Susan wouldn't hang around with a creep like that, any
way. But seeing him that way in a dream didn't help
Lesko like him any better.

Another new guy in the dream was Palmer Reid.
Lesko's head made up a face for him as well. Guy about
Donovan's age, dresses like a Ken doll, gets a haircut
every week. He's not doing anything. Just watching.
Loftus keeps whispering in his ear. Donovan keeps
looking over at him like he can't stand the son of a bitch.

The dumbest part, Lesko winced at the memory,
was that not only was Elena there—it must have been
Gallagher's again—but Donna, his ex-wife, was there,
and
Donna's having a high old time telling Elena all
about life with Raymond Lesko. He snores, he farts in
bed, he never hangs up his clothes—which is not true,
by the way—he forgets to flush, and when he eats
kielbasa his breath could peel wallpaper. What the hell's
that all about? Anyway, it's just like Donna to harp on
shit like that when serious things are happening all
around her.

Katz wasn't in that dream. He showed up later. Four
in the morning. Still with the bagels or Danish, but here
he's in the suite they let Lesko use, and he's walking
around saying this is nice, this is good, it looks like you finally scored.

“Yeah, well, it's not a score, it's a job. And this isn't
mine so don't go touching anything.”

Katz's hands went to his hips.
“You can't say hello
before you start with the nasty mouth?”

“You come in here expecting etiquette? Who invited
you?
Anyway, you're not even here. You're dead.”

“You don 't have to keep saying that, either. ”

“Christ ”
Lesko bunched the pillow against his face.

“You 're worried about Susan, aren 't you?”

No.”

“You want me to keep an eye on her? Maybe I could
do that.”

“Keep an eye where? She's going to Switzerland.”

“Maybe I could find them
,
”
Katz shrugged.
”l don 't
know. ”

“She's with a guy. You think I want you standing
around at night watching whatever she does with
him?”

“It's just a thought. I thought maybe it could help
square us. ”

“You want to make yourself useful? Go find Dono
van for me. After that, you want to haunt somebody, go
haunt my ex-wife. Flush the toilet all night while she's
trying to sleep. ”