The Bannerman Solution (The Bannerman Series) (51 page)

“Maybe we ought to call and ask for a profile?”

“Then they'd know where we are,
darlin.’
Best if
they don't. Best if we can fade in and fade out as it suits
us.”

The woman squeezed his hand to signify that she
agreed. “We'll find out tomorrow. Tomorrow we'll sit them both down and get them to tell us all about them
selves.”

“Well, just don't go gettin' too fond of them, darlin
’
That talk-show feller last June in Dallas, you must of
moped two whole weeks about it.”

“Then like last June,” she picked up his hand and
kissed it, “all you need do is keep buyin' me presents till
you see I'm smilin' again.”

“That's fine for you,” he pretended annoyance, “but
it sure would be nice to turn a profit every now and then.”

“Oh, hush.” She tugged at him. “How about us seein'
if we can find a dish of ribs in this town?”

Lesko was on his knees, dazed. A stream of blood ran
down across one cheek and dripped onto the laundry-
room floor. He could hear the sounds of brass cartridges
being clicked into their cylinders and the cylinder click
ing into place but he could do nothing to prevent it.

Minutes ago, seconds ago, he wasn't sure which, both
his hands were around Loftus's throat lifting him off his
feet. He remembered the gun butt coming down across
his temple. Once, twice, more times. He barely felt it.
But he remembered
Loftus's face retreating farther and farther away and then there was only the cement floor.

“Lesko?” Loftus's voice.

He felt a hand on his shoulder. It pushed him, not
roughly, but enough to make him roll onto his back. He
looked up, his eyes gradually coming into focus, first on
Loftus's face and then on the revolver that was pointed
at his forehead.

“I could blow your thick head off, Lesko. Agreed?”

Susan. The son of a bitch had involved Susan.

“Come on, Lesko. Shake it off. Are we agreed I could
kill you?”

Lesko nodded slowly. He pushed to a sitting position
as the fog receded and was replaced by a throbbing
pain. Loftus stepped past him. He walked to the wash
ing machine, opened its lid, and pulled out one of Les
ko's wet bath towels. He held it at arm's length until Lesko took it and pressed it against his head.

“I'm getting a little tired of you belting me every
time I see you, Lesko. On my card, you're still one up on
me.”

“What about Susan?” Lesko glared up at him.

“She's in no danger. So don't go crazy anymore, all
right?”

“Bannerman. The guy she's with. He's part of this.”

“Bannerman is part of a mistake. It's all a stupid
mistake and people are dying for nothing.”

Lesko eased to his feet with the help of the clothes dryer. Loftus backed away, his gun aimed at Lesko's
right knee. Lesko glared at it for a long moment, then
made a dismissive gesture with his hand. Loftus low
ered the weapon but did not holster it.

“Tell me,” Lesko said quietly.

“Paul Bannerman used to be our top contract agent
in Europe. He worked for several of our allies as well. A
few years ago he decided to take a walk.”

“So he's not really a travel agent.”

Loftus considered how much to tell him. No point in
mentioning the rest of that crowd in Westport. It would
only make Lesko crazy again.

“He is,” Loftus answered. “That's a legitimate busi
ness. The only thing you really have to understand
about Bannerman is that Palmer Reid hates him and is
afraid of him. On Bannerman's end, all he wants is to be
left alone.”

Lesko wasn't ready to feel better about this yet.
“How does Susan figure in this?” he asked. “How did
she get hooked up with Bannerman?”

“I don't know. They could have just met some
place.”

“In a pig's ass.”

“Now, you see that?” Loftus waved his gun in exas
peration. “That's how this whole fucking thing got out
of hand. People like you making connections that were
probably never there in the first place.”

“Bad conclusions.” Lesko remembered.

“That's right, goddamn it.”

“Tell me.”

“Accept for the
moment that Susan and Bannerman
just happened to meet like any other two people.
Maybe there's more to it, maybe there isn't, but let's
start there.”

“Go ahead.”

“Reid finds out that Bannerman is down in the Baha
mas. He goes there to try to talk to him because Banner
man has warned him to stay far away from Westport.
Reid only wants to talk. There's some unfinished busi
ness between them that shouldn't matter to you.”

“So he talks to him. So what?”

“Reid sees he's there with a girl. He naturally asks for
a make on her. The.girl turns out to be not only a
newspaper reporter but the daughter of Raymond
Lesko. This Raymond Lesko may or may not have some
thing going with Elena Betancourt. Elena can tie
Palmer Reid into direct CIA participation in the South
American drug trade. If
Elena decides to talk, to Susan's
newspaper for example, she can set o
ff
a scandal that
could blow Reid and the whole CIA right out of the
water.”

“How much of this does Susan know?”

“My guess? Zero. More to the point, I don't think even Bannerman has a clue. He's probably never even
heard of Elena.” Loftus, waving his gun, realized it was
still in his hand. He holstered it. “I told you,” he contin
ued, “that Reid hates Bannerman. From Reid's point of
view, what's going on here is conspiracy by Bannerman
to destroy him. Bannerman got to you, whether or not
through your daughter, so he could get to Elena so that
he could get the goods on Reid. You, Lesko, are central
to this conspiracy against Reid. If any part of it is news to
you, none of the rest of it can be true, either.”

Lesko, his expression profoundly sad, lifted the end
of the towel to his head and dabbed at the remaining
traces of blood. Donovan did die for a mistake. He also
died because Lesko asked him to make some phone
calls.

“You got some more in your ear,” Loftus told him.

“Donovan.” Lesko whispered the name. “Just for
digging around he got killed? How much could he have
found out on the phone?”

“He connected Reid and Bannerman. That's all.
Reid's big mistake was ordering Donovan picked up
and taken to this house in Scarsdale. Reid met him there
and tried to feed him a cock-and-bull story about a con
spiracy by a renegade agent to discredit our country's intelligence service. He even said it was Bannerman
moving all the drugs and you and your daughter were in
it with him. Donovan didn't much like Reid either. You
can guess how he reacted.”

Lesko didn't have to guess. Donovan would have
come straight to him. Knowing Donovan, he probably
made the mistake of saying so.

“The one who killed Donovan,” Lesko asked softly.
“What did you say his name was?”

“Frank Burdick. He's at this place in Scarsdale.”

“Why are you giving him to me?”

“The way I feel about Burdick,” Loftus looked into his eyes, “is the way you'd have felt about another cop
who'd kill anyone the commissioner asked him to. Don't
assume you're the only one with principles, Lesko.
We've both done things we shouldn't have.”

Lesko had to give him that much. But he had more
than Burdick on his mind. “You said Susan's is no dan
ger. Help me to believe that.”

“No one cares about her. If you're worried about her
getting into the line of fire, I promise you that Reid
won't go after Bannerman. He's too afraid of him.”

“That's not a good reason to kill him?”

“All I can tell you is that Bannerman has that cov
ered. If a tree happened to fall on him, another one
would fall on Reid within a week.”

Lesko wasn't sure he liked the answer. It could have
meant that Bannerman has a standing contract out on
Reid as insurance, but what's to keep the hitter from
keeping the money arid lighting a candle for him in
stead. More likely, Bannerman either has a godfather or
an organization of his own.

“Just how dangerous is this guy?”