Bannerman's Law (50 page)

₃₈

The clock at his bedside read a quarter past four.

Ba
nn
e
r
man, wrapped in a bed sheet, his expression
grim, made notes on a telephone pad as he played, for the
second time, Molly's recording of her conversation with
DiDi Fene
r
ty.

Susan had slipped into Bannerman
’s
shirt when Molly knocked. Now, listening to the tape, she searched his gar
ment bag for a fresh one so that he could dress. They
would not be going back to bed. Not with Ca
rl
a missing.

Her ring raked across something hard within the folds
of the hanging bag
.
She traced her fingers over it, instantly
recognizing the shape of an automatic pistol in a belt-clip
holster. She was withdrawing her hand when she felt a
second weapon, smaller than the first, no holster.

Billy, she realized, must have quietly stashed them
when he stopped by earlier. It surprised her that there were
two. She wondered if Billy had taken it on himself to see
that she was armed as well. She doubted it. Paul might
have finally decided to treat her as a grown-up. But it was not the time to ask.
not the time to ask. He was conce
rn
ed about Car
l
a. And
he had just been given the name of the man who
'd
ordered
the murder of her sister.

“
You called her from this hotel
?”
Banne
rm
an asked
Molly.

”I made severa
l
calls. Yes
.”

Bannerman chewed his lip.

”A
wire
,”
Molly told him,
“
didn't seem likely. Not
this soon and not on DiDi's phone
.”
She pointed to her
tape machine.
“
That conversation, at least, was on a
clean line
.”

Bannerman arched one eye.

”I know
,”
she
said. ''It
wasn't smart
.”

Susan thought she understood. If DiDi's phone had been wired, the call from the man who gave her those
names would have already been intercepted. Having DiDi
repeat them over a clean line had been o
f
little use. A part
of Susan was glad to see that Molly was human.

Bannerman chose not to press the point in front of
Susan. He gestured as if to say that the damage, if any,
was already done. He tapped his notepad.
“
Could Carla
have these names
?”

“
How
?”
Molly tossed her hands.
“
DiDi hasn't heard
from her. And I've been with her all this time
.”

“
Where else might she have gone
?”

A shrug. ”I called the Beverly Hills. If she's there,
she's not answering. I just tried her father. He hasn't seen
her either but Claude, if you believe it, called him a couple
of hours ago. Claude's looking for her too
.”

Bannerman stared.
“
Carla
’s
father knows about Claude
?”

She shook her head. “He thinks it was just some friend
of Lisa's. But he's worried about Carla. He thinks she
killed Hickey and he's been seeing cars with men in
them
.”

Probably detectives, thought Bannerman, although they
should have been pulled by now if Lesko made the deal. His eye fell to the names on his notepad. It was obvious,
he realized, that someone, possibly at Sur La Mer, wanted
Carla to bloody the names on that list. Perhaps that same
someone had played it both ways, told those names that
she
'
d be coming. He was getting a bad feeling about this.

“
How did Car
l
a leave here? Did she take Yuri's car
?”

Molly shook her head.
“
Lesko has it. He's still not
back
.”

Banne
r
man checked his watch. He was beginning to get a bad feeling about that as well when Molly saw a
wash of headlights in the parking lot outside. She stepped
to the window.
“
Here he is now
,”
she said.

Bannerman waited until he heard the slam of a car door. He flicked his lamp on and off three times.
“
He
sees us
,”
said Molly.

Susan tossed clean socks and a laundered shirt to Bannerman. She stripped off his old one and dressed quickly,
choosing tan slacks and a green blouse. Bannerman, find
ing his trousers, asked Molly to go and wake Billy.

“
Tell him I want him outside with John Waldo
,”
he said.
“
We just might have visitors. But you go back to
your room. Sit tight in case Carla shows. Call the Fene
r
ty
girl. You might as well give her your number in case she
has any more mystery callers
.”

Bannerman picked up the phone and dialed. He turned
his head. As good a time as any, thought Susan. She
reached into his garment bag and found the smaller of the
two automatics. She dropped it into her purse. She moved
to the bed, straightening it, hiding the baby powder. Her
father was funny about such things.

Bannerman was talking to Anton Zivic
.
He read the
names from his notepad, then listened in silence for a
minute or two. He thanked Zivic and replaced the phone.

Molly had left the door ajar. Susan could hear her father in the corridor in muffled conversation with Molly.
She heard him say,
“
In a minute
.”
He walked past in the
direction of his own room. Susan ran a quick brush
through her hair
.

“
Anton's heard of Ma
r
ek
,”
Bannerman said
behi
n
d
her.
“
There are rumors that he deals in stolen art. He'll
see what else he can find out. In the meantime
,”
Ban
ne
rm
an made a face,
“
Roger Clew has been trying to
reach me
.”

Susan turned.
“
After a year
?”

Banne
rm
an nodded.

“
In connection with this
?”

Bannerman shrugged.
“
One wonders. But he
wouldn't say
.”

She saw that his eyes, normally soft, had taken a curi
ou
s
shine. They were going back in time, she imagined,
over the years of his relationship with an increasingly cyn
ical Roger who had, in the end, played one game too
many. But those eyes, right now, seemed to be lingering
on her purse. She searched them for any sign that he had
seen her take the gun. She considered mentioning it. She
would when they were alone again.

He noticed that she was studying him. The eyes nar
rowed slightly and he cocked his head. She had a guilty
feeling that he was trying to read her mind.

“
Nothing
,”
she shrugged dis
mi
ssively. ”I just like watching you
.”

That made him self-conscious. It always did.

“
You're so controlled
,”
she said. ”I admire that
.”

She didn't really. Women never did. But the flattery
distracted him.

“
I'm in control
?”
He slipped into his shoes.
“
You
mean now
?”

“
You're not exactly flipping out
.”

Bannerman almost laughed. He began counting on his
fingers.
“
We have Ca
rl
a, who is
not
in control, missing.
We have her pal, the serial killer, out looking for her and
even having a chat with her father. We have Molly, who
should know better, having compromised our location. We
have two different anonymous callers, one of whom wants
us to go kill an art dealer. We have two shooters who
.
.
.”

The telephone rang.

Control.

Not to mention Sur La Mer, an angry KGB colonel
and what, if anything, Roger Clew has to do with all this.

Banne
rm
an picked up the phone and listened. Susan
thought she heard a soft groan.

“
Okay
,”
he told Molly.
“
Go find John Waldo. See
what he knows. Then call that girl
.”
He replaced the receiver, sighing deeply.

“
Billy's gone too
,”
he said.

Lesko, his own eyes shining, appeared in the doorway.

“
And where the hell's Elena
?”
he demanded.

Su
mn
er Dom
m
erich had fallen asleep.

When he woke, to banging doors and flashing lights,
he thought he had been caught. Two police cars blocked
him in. He almost screamed. He wasn't ready yet.

But his head cleared and he saw that they were there
with an ambulance. Two men with blood on them were
helped out of it. One onto a Gue
rn
ey, the other able to
walk but wearing handcuffs. He heard
“
bar fight
”
and
“
stab wound
s''
and “
‘
one more dead at the scene
.''
Normal emergency room stuff.

Lesko came out. He had the pizza box in his hand. He took another slice out of it and gave the rest to one of the
cops. It seemed, to Dommerich, like something only an
other policeman would do. And he wasn't bothered by the
blood. He said,
“
Hang in there
,”
then he walked to the
Ford and climbed in.

Dommerich had been right about the Ford. But it didn't
help now. He couldn't get out. All he could do was sit
low until Lesko pulled away and then ask one of the cops
to move his car.

That's what he did. But this other cop saw his pizza
hat and asked him if he had any more. Dommerich gave
him the sausage pizza that Lesko didn't want. It was al
most cold. Dommerich would have thrown it ou
t
anyway.

From what he could see, the Ford had turned north on
Vermont. Dommerich raced after him. He caught up with
one car, then another, but neither was the Ford. There
wasn't much traffic. All he could see up ahead were
trucks. He knew that Lesko must have turned off.

In a way it was just as well. You can't go zooming up b
ehind people at night and expect them not to notice.
Especially one who might be a cop.

Dommerich was tempted to go home. He had almost n
o
chance of finding the Ford. It could have gone anywhere.

His one slim hope was that Lesko might be headed for
the Beverly Hills Hotel. He realized that it was almost no
hope at all but it was all he could think of to try. Anyway, maybe Ca
rl
a would be back there b
y
now and he wouldn
'
t
need Lesko to find her. Dommerich made a U-turn, then
went west on Beverly Boulevard.