Bannerman's Law (40 page)

She tried to shake it off. People would see. And it
made her shiver. Her whole body tingled. Her new body.

That excited her. It would be like their first time. Certainly without bandages. Two new faces. No bathrobes.
Clothing to remove. And she had lost weight. She had
never been heayy but it had been at least ten years, well
before they met, since her weight had dropped below 130
pounds. Those last few days at Sur La Mer had made the
difference. Eating erratically, exercising doubly hard to
keep mind and body alert. She was proud of this body.
So firm and tight. Now, he wa
s
discovering that as well.
She could almost feel his surprise, his pleasure, through
his fingertips.

Reaching
Dunville's
car, he took the keys from her. He
fumbled for the lock, awkwardly, once dropping them. Her
grin widened.

As he bent to retrieve them, her eyes drifted across the second-floor level of the Holiday Inn. She picked out their r
oom. The lights had been turned off. It was fully dark.
Bu
t
she thought she saw movement against the drapes. A
shadow moved. Then it seemed to crouch.

Probably nothing, she thought. Nellie closing the cur
tains.

But she was troubled, even so.

It had been days, she realized, since they'd left Nellie
alone.

“
Do you think she's all right
?”
she asked.

“
Nellie
?”
Weinberg followed her eyes.
“
The door is
locked. She'll be fine
.”

“
She's by herself. What if she's frightened
?”

“
No, she's
.
.
.
” He stopped himself
.
Barbara was
already reaching behind her back, fastening buttons. He
sighed deeply, deliberately.
“
We're going to go check,
aren't we
,”
he grumbled.

“
Two minutes
,”
she said, patting him.

Weinberg made a fist. He pounded the Mercedes,
lightly. But he followed her.

Fucking Bannerman.

Lesko was mouthing the words at him even as he
hugged his daughter. Susan embraced Elena in turn. Behind Lesko, Molly said with a nod that she'd told him all she knew. Bannerman had no need to ask how he reacted.

Lesko turned to Molly and gestured toward the door.
“
Why don't you get Elena checked in
?”
he asked.
“
Take
Susan with you. They can get caught u
p
while Paul and
I have a talk
.”

Elena took his arm. She reached for Bannerman
’s
hand.
“
We will all have a talk
,”
she said firmly.

Lesko mumbled something into her ear.
“
I'm not going
to
...
” was all that Bannerman heard but he could imag
ine the rest:
“
I'm not going to hit him
.
.
.
like he did
the first time they met. I'm not going to shoot him
.
.
.
like he did in Ma
r
bella. I'm just going t
o
ask, nicely,
whether Bannerman ever goes anyplace where everyone is
still alive by the time he leaves
.”

His next question would have been about Susan. Also
asked nicely, Like:
“
Are you going to get Susan on the next plane out of California or do I crush your face the first time Elena gives us two minutes alone
?”

“
What's the latest on Yuri
?”
Lesko asked instead.

“
Holding his own. Leo just left for the hospital
.”

“
And where's Ca
rl
a
?”

“
Down the hall with Billy. I told her to get some sleep.
Why don't you and Elena do the same and we'll talk in
the morning
?”

Lesko shook his head. Two drinks and an ounce of NyQuil had put him to sleep by the time he was over
Scotland. But for Molly's call, they would have slept
through to Los Angeles. He reached into his pocket for a
pad on which he'd jotted the outline of Molly's summary.
It crossed his mind to insist that Susan take a walk. But
a glance at her told him that she knew more than he did.
The same eye contact told him that she would not leave
in any case.

“
Just so I have this straight
,”
he said, reading,
“
you
think this dead guy, Hickey, killed
Carla's
sister
.”

“
It's a possibility
.”

“
And you think he's connected with this loony bin
up north
?”

“
We don't know that either. But if there's a connection, the police may well have established it by now
.”

“
And you're willing to leave this strictly to the cops?
Why doesn't that sound like you
?”

Bannerman was tired. And he was becoming annoyed
.
“
The memorial service is on Thursday morning
,”
he said
quietly.
“
By that afternoon, I want all of us on a flight
back to Westpo
r
t. In the meantime I want no trouble with
the law and none of our names in the newspapers
.”

Lesko remained doubtful. He glanced at Molly.
“
What
if, like Molly thinks, this Sur La Mer is behind everything
?”

“
In that case
,”
Bannerman told him,
“
our council will
discuss it and decide what action, if any, is appropriate.
If there is no direct threat to us, and if the police have
the situation in hand, we may well decide to do nothing
.”

It was, Lesk
o
thought, what he'd wanted to hear. Still,
he frowned in spite of himself.
“
Ca
r
la's sister gets carved
up, and by you that
'
s not a threat
?”

“
No
,”
Banne
rm
an said evenly.
“
It isn't
.”

Lesko understood, he supposed. Hit Bannerman or one
of his people, on purpose, and Bannerman hits back fast
and hard
,
always in a way that leaves the survivors scared shitless. He has to. It's his only protection. But Lisa Bene
dict did not die, apparently, because she was Ca
rl
a Bene
dict's sister. And anyway, the guy who probably did it
was dead.

“
Council or no council
,”
he said,
“
how do you stop Carla
?”

“
For her own good, and ours
,”
Bannerman answered,
“
we'll stop her
.”

How, Lesko wondered? Chain her to a bed? He chose
not to ask.
“
This serial killer
,”
he sai
d—h
e could still
hardly believe this par
t—“
he's not a threat to you either,
right
?
Would you still try to take him if you didn't need
him for a trade
?”

Bannerman hesitated.
“
Yes. But we would end it
.”

Elena touched
Lesko's
hand before he could speak. She
was looking at Bannerman. Her eyes, and a nod, said that
she would end it as well. There would be no media circus,
no trial, no years of appeals.

“
On the matter at hand
,”
she said to Bannerman.
“
you
realize that Lesko behaves in one way when his daughter
is involved and in quite another when she is not
.”

Bannerman nodded. All too well.

“
Susan has now lived with you for one year. Is that
correct
?”

“
Just about
.”

”‘
Is there anything of substance that she does not know
about you
?”

“Not
of substance, no
.”

“
She is accepted by all your people
?”

Bannerman understood where she was headed.
“
She is
accepted for the person she is and within the limits of what
she can do. Otherwise, she is trusted without reservation
.”

“
Then we can agree, perhaps, that she is not made of
spun sugar
.”

“
That would
.
.
.
shorten this discussion, yes
.”

“
Lesko
?”
Elena nudged him.

“
Hey
.”
He raised his hands.
“
I'm her father. I get
protective
.”

“
You are
my
protector. You are my lover. One day,
please God, I will have your child. Your plate is full
,
Lesko
.”

It was more than a blush. Color exploded on his cheeks.
Susan had to hide her face.

Lesko pushed to his feet. He looked at the door, long
ingly. Elena took his hand and held it.

“
What do you want him to do
?”
she asked Ba
nn
e
rm
an.

“
Call the detective in charge of the task force. Tell
him we think that we can give him the serial killer but
we will do so only on these conditions. No detainment of
our people or of Leo
's
, no formal questioning, no surveillance, and none of our names are released to the media.
Further, he agrees to tell us, through Lesko, everything he
learns about Hickey and Sur La Mer
.”

“
Can he make such an agreement
?”

Bannerman shook his head.
“
He'll need the approval
of his superiors and the cooperation of the FBI. That will
take time so the call ought to be made tonight
.”
He turned
to Lesko.
“
They've iden
ti
fied Ca
rl
a and Molly and by
now they know
that the KGB is involved so I think they'll
take you seriously. I'll meet with them if necessary but
I'd prefer not to. I'd like you to be the intermediary. You
will deliver Claude if we catch him
.”

Lesko nodded slowly.
“
In one piece
?”
he asked.

Bannerman hesitated, only slightly.
“
We'll try
,”
he said,
“
for
Carla's
sake
.”

₂₉

Reaching their door by way of the inside corridor, Weinberg inserted a key of coded plastic and opened it quietly.
The light from the hallway revealed a telephone notepad
on the floor just inside. There was writing on it. His hand snaked to the Smith & Wesson in the small of his back.
Barbara saw this but not the note. Her own hand reached
into her purse. She covered the hallway as Weinberg stepped inside. Barbara followed, closing the door but
not fully.

The sliver of light from the hallway showed no sign of
Nellie. Or, oddly, of her cot. The heavy drapes were drawn
across the picture window. Barbara saw that they bulged
at the bottom. She approached the bulge, soundlessly, from
the side.

Behind her, Weinberg now closed the door fully. He
flipped on the bathroom light. That surprised Barbara. He
had left her backlit. But she did not turn.

“
Hey
,”
he said softly.

Barbara glanced back though only for an instant. She r
eached for the edge of the drapery but as she did, his brain registered an image that made no sense to her. It
was that of her husband
,
the note in his hand
,
no weapon,
silently kicking off his shoes. His jacket was already on the floor. Barbara shook it off.

She parted the drape where it met the window wall.
She saw Nellie, on her side, her face lit by the moon.
Someone had moved her cot flush against the window. Someone had drawn the drapes over it. Nellie
'
s eyes were
half open. They stared sightlessly. One arm rested on Dun
ville's
briefcase.

Fabric rustled behind her. She crouched and turned.
And she froze. She saw her husband, standing, framed in
the light from the bathroom. His shirt had come off as
well. He was twirling it, tossing it, in the manner of a
strip tease dancer. He undid his belt.

“
Alan
.
.
.”
It was more a gasp than a word. It was
all she could say.

He was dancing now. Advancing on her. To music.
His tongue made the sound of muted snare drums against his teeth.

Barbara rose, slowly.
“
Have
.
.
.
have you lost your
mind
?”
she managed.

Still
dancing, he
held out the note. She took it. He
reached for her gun hand, caressing it, kissing it as he
eased the hammer into place. He took it from her, putting
it aside, then led her toward the light while undoing her
buttons for the second time.

Barbara held the note to the light, straining to read it
Weinber
g
made it difficult. The snare drums had stopped
but he was now humming.
”A pretty girl
.
.
.
is like a
melody
.
.
.
she haunts you night and
.
.
.
” He slipped
her dress from her shoulders, down over her arms, over
her breasts. She wore no bra. It was no longer needed
quite so much. Weinberg undid her belt. The dress fell.
He took her by the waist, lifting her, bringing the perfect new breasts to his lips. He made purring, groaning sounds.
'
'Gabriella
.
.
.
” she heard, in a throaty whisper. She felt
him swelling against her thighs.