Bannerman's Law (30 page)

“
She
'
s been out there one day. How could she
...
”
Susan stopped herself. Nothing about Ca
rl
a should surprise
her any more.
“
Isn
'
t Molly with her
?”

“
Apparently not. She checked in with Anton an hour
ago. He told her the same thing but she wasn't at the
hotel. However, Yuri Rykov is. Belk
i
n sent him right over
when I called
.”

“
I'd feel better if it was Colonel Belkin
.”

Banne
r
man shrugged.
“
Yuri's young but he's good. I
don't think he'll let Carla do anything crazy. Certainly not
without checking in with Leo
,”

He sipped his scotch. He hoped he sounded more sure
than he was.

“
Anyway, John Waldo's out there
.”
Susan tried to ease
his mind.
“
And we'll be down in an hour
.”

“
He's out there somewhere
,”
Paul answered.
“
But
he's backing us up, not Carla. He's probably on his way to the airport right now
.”

She felt a tingle of satisfaction when he said
us.
She
knew that he meant her, too. Not just himself and Billy.

Billy Mc
H
ugh was in the back, flying coach
.
He didn't like first class, Paul had told her. He thinks it makes hi
m
stand out. He prefers to blend in. Susan believed that,
more or less, until two hours into the flight when she decided she'd go back and visit him. Paul asked her not
to. She wanted to know why. He was forced to tell her
that Billy was afraid of flying. He always took an aisle seat, last row, where not so many people could see his
white knuckles, and near the lavatory in case he felt nauseus.

It was hard to believe. Banerman’s monster, afrai
d
to fly. This was the man who once made it out of Iran on
foot, doing more damage along the way than Iraqi mines.
She asked Paul what caused it, presuming that it must have been something horrendous that had happened to
him. Something claustrophobic. Like being buried alive,
with snakes, in some Third World dungeon. He said no.
He's j
u
st afraid to fly.

“
Oh
.”
Bannerman remembered Anton's other message.
“
Your father's on his way. With Elena. They'll get in after
midnight. He's going to just love hearing about Claude
.”

“
How do you know he's not some crank? Claude, I
mean
.”

Banne
rm
an considered it. He shook his head.
“
Ca
rl
a
would have been the first to think so
,”
he said.
“
He must
have offered proof
.”

“
Either way, how did he know Carla? How did he
know where she was staying
?”

Bannerman stared ahead.
“
Keep going
,”
he said.

“
The answer is he spotted her someplace, then fol
lowed her. He could have been watching her father
's
house
last night but remember it was dark. More likely this morning at her sister's apartment
.”

“
Why would he have gone to either place
?”

“
Curiosity
,”
she guessed.
“
Compulsion. If a copycat
killed Lisa, maybe he's angry about it. He wants people
to know
.”

Bannerman rubbed his chin.
“
He wanted Carla to
know. But again, how did he recognize her as Lisa's
sister
?’'

“
Wouldn't most people? You said they could almost be twins
.”

“
Except they'd have to know what Lisa looked like
first. When would Claude have seen her
?”

“
In the newspapers, I suppose. But I think he knew her
.”

“
Intuition
?”

She made a face.
“
No. You just said it. He wanted
Carla to know. To me, that suggests a relationship. Other
wise, all he had to do was call any reporter
.”

Bannerman nodded. He remembered what Lesko had
said about the first of the serial killer's six victims being
from Lisa's neighborhood. And that it
's
a pattern. The first
one tends to be close to home, someone he knows, usually an act of impulse. After that the murders become more
deliberate and the killer avoids soiling his own nest.

“
That's very good
,”
he said.
“
Nice going
.”

She knew that he meant it. She appreciated it. But she saw his eyes cloud over as if to say, that's interesting, but
I don't rea
l
ly care about him, or his six other victims,
except to the extent that he endangers Ca
rl
a. Or her. Or
any of his people. Mama's Boy takes care of his own.

“
We might have a shot at catching him
,”
she said.

“
That's not why we're here, Susan
.”

See?

Banne
rm
an sipped his drink
.
He put it down.
“
But why
do you say that
?”

Susan smiled within herself. She had set the hook.
“
This relationship
,”
she said.
“
It sounds
like it
'
s now with Carla
.”

His expression showed doubt
“
All he did was call her.
He's not likely to let her get close to him
.”

“
He followed her. He might do it again
.”

“
He might
.”

“
You could have Billy or John watching for him. Or
me
.”

“
Don't even think it
”

“
Or my father
.”

A vague shake of the head.

“
Why not
?”
she asked.

“
Huh? Oh
.”
He waved a hand as if to show that he'd
been thinking of something else.
“
Your father would be
fine
,”
he said.

Which, Susan knew, was a lie. She could see that he was intrigued by the idea. He wouldn
'
t mind catching
Claude. If the opportunity offered itself. If it could be
done cleanly and quietly. Lots of
i
f
s.
But he would never
use her father to do it because her father would
.
.
.
might
.
.
.
want to hand him to the police. Paul would
never do that. Claude, if that
's
his name, would simply be
found somewhere, maybe with a note in his mouth.

Mama's Boy doesn't do courts.

“
It's me again
.”

Carla had been out the door, Yuri ahead of
her, when
the telephone rang and she rushed back to snatch it. The
same voice, now oddly flat.

“
Thank you
,”
she said, waving Yuri back in.
“
Thank
you for calling back
.”
She mouthed Claude's name to
the Russian.

”I didn't mean to hang up on you. I was getting
upset
.”

”I know. I was upset, too. I'm sorry
.”

‘”
That man who was following you? What stuff did he
steal from Lisa
?”

“
Ah
.
.
.
could I ask why you want to know, Claude
?”

“
I'm where he lives. I could see if it's here
.”

Carla's
eyes widened. She fished a piece of notepaper
from her pocket and held it up for Yuri to see. It showed
an address in Burba
n
k, written in the hand of the hotel
manager. Yuri understood. He mimed a suggestion. Ca
rl
a would keep this man on the phone. He would drive there.
Carla tossed him her keys. Yuri tossed them back. He showed his own and left.

“
Claude? Let
'
s see. I'
m
thinking
.”
She steadied her
voice. “He took her college notebooks, her address books,
her calendar
.
.
.
”
-

“
How about a camera
?”

“
Yes. She had a Nikon Autofocus with a zoom lens.
The strap is blue. Embroidered
.”

“
That's here. There's a good tape recorder next to it
.”

”A
Ma
r
antz
?”

”
I don't
...
oh, yeah. Marantz
.”

“
Son of a bitch. Not you, Claude
.”

”I know. I told you it wasn't me
.”

“
Claude what about the notebook
s
and things
?”

“
Hold on a second
.”
She heard the phone touch a
wooden surface, followed by a stillness and then the
sounds of papers. Several drawers opened and closed.
“
No
.”
His voice came back on.
“
He's got things like that
but they're his. How about jewelry? He
'
s got chains and
bracelets here
.”

“
Is there a chain with a real gold bar on it from a
Swiss bank
?”

“
It says Credit Suisse. Is that it
?”

“
Yes
.”
Carla took a breath. It stuttered. Dommerich
thought he heard a sob.

”
I could take Lisa's things if you want. I could leave
them for you someplace. If I leave them for when the
police come they'll probably keep them for a long time
.”

“
The police? You're not going to call them, are you
?”

“
No. But they'll come. He'll start to smell
.”

“
Claude
.
.
.
who will smell
?”

“
Joseph Hickey.
I
.
..
got even for Lisa. And for you
.”

Ca
rl
a closed
*
her eyes.
“
Do you mean he's there,
Claude? Right now
?”

“
He's here. He's dead
.”