Bannerman's Law (56 page)

₄₄

John Waldo spotted the two men.

He had decided to watch the front for a while, at least
until Molly left. She had, otherwise unobserved. But now,
minutes later, he could see Banne
rm
an, just inside, standing with Susan. Waldo squinted. Looked like Susan was
giving him some shit.

The two men, in a red Porsche, came up Sunset headed
east. What caught his eye was their brake lights. The car had slowed just as it reached the front entrance. Then it
went on, turning into the parking lot at the far end. It
disappeared behind the hotel. Ten seconds later it was
back, now at the near end. It paused just short of the
building line. The passenger got out. He had a camera.
C
a
reful not to show himself, he aimed the long lens at the
main entrance.

Bannerman was out there now, helping Susan into a
taxi, shutting the door behind her. The one with the camera
lowered it. Bannerman was still in full view but the man
seemed to have no interest in him. He returned to the Porsche,
jabbing a finger toward the departing taxi. He
wanted to follow. The driver seemed reluctant. He argued. The other man barked at him. No question, thought Waldo,
that at least one of them was interested in Susan. Or in
someone who looked like her from a distance. Like
Molly, maybe.

Waldo released his clutch and moved out ahead of the
Porsche. He shifted gears noisily so that Ba
nn
e
r
man, now
walking up Sunset, would notice him.

He stayed with the taxi for a quarter mile, then slowed, straddling both lanes. The Porsche quickly closed the distance, hugging the center line in readiness to pass. Waldo
weaved in front of it. He could see the driver cursing,
heard the blast of his horn. Waldo drifted right and the
Porsche made its move.

Waldo jerked his wheel to the left and stamped on his
brake pedal. He braced himself for the impact.

Dr. Michael
Feldman's
first thought was that Ca
r
leton Dunville had pulled into his driveway. He was more trou
bled than alarmed. He thought of the pistol that he carried
in his medical bag.

But it could not be Dunville
’
s Mercedes. A blond
woman was driving with a smaller person, probably her
child, i
n
the seat next to her. A patient without an appoint
ment. Not uncommon. Feldman relaxed.

“
Please don't move
.”

Feldman went rigid. A man's voice. Behind him. A
large hand now, on his shoulder.

“
I'm not here to harm you. Truly. Just go to the door,
please, and open it
.”

Feldman obeyed. He went to the door, the man follow
ing closely. His intention was to open it, throw it wide, and then run for his life.

“
If you do
,”
said We
i
nberg, who read his mind
through the tensing of his shoulder muscles,
“
you're liable
to knock poor Nellie down
.”

The Malibu address, provided by Felix, stood on a bluff
several hundred feet from the beach. A wall, with mounted
cameras, surrounded the property on three sides. A high
terrace faced the ocean. The only access to the house was
a heavy wooden gate facing inland. The only approach
was a steep two-lane road that curved to the right at Ma
r
-
ek's house and climbed still higher before snaking back
down.

Elena, driving Billy's rented car, waited at a bend well
above the Ma
r
ek house. Ca
rl
a had gone with her but she
returned on foot rather than have the car go by those
cameras twice. She jogged past a shuttered service station
on the main road where Billy had left Felix
Montoya's
car among several others that were parked there awaiting
attention.

Bunce had slid into the foot well of the passenger side,
concealed by Felix's ta
r
p. A cheap poncho with a USC
deca
l
covered the driver's seat, which still oozed blood.
Carla had found it in Lisa's old room. Felix was in the
trunk.

Billy stood at a bus stop a safe distance away, pre
tending to read a copy of
The Hollywood Reporter,
which
he'd found in a trash receptacle. Carla approached him.
She peered to the south as if waiting for a bus.

“
The h
o
use is quiet
,”
she said.
“
Elena's ready
.”

Billy cocked his head toward the service station.
“
What's wrong with leaving them right there? We call the guy and say go look
.”

“
He's probably unlisted
.”

“
We couldn't ask
?”

She shook her head.
“
I've been thinking too
,”
she
said.
“
The hell with psychology. We can finish it
.”

Billy closed one eye.
“
Like how
?”

He listened as she explained about the heavy wooden
gate and the cameras. They had the Mexican's car, she
reminded him. They'd open the gate if it pulled up and
honked. Sit low, slouch, and he might pass for Felix.

”
I give you a gun, right? We go in and start blasting
.”

She nodded.
“
Or I go over the wall, shoot whoever I
see, then let you in. We find Ma
r
e
k
and we finish it
.”

Billy sighed. Calamity Ca
rl
a.

“
Paul says not yet
,”
he told her.
“
Anyway
.
.
.
” He
made a gesture that took in their surroundings. Only one
main road in and out of town. One access road to
Marek's
place, easily sealed at both ends. Three or four other
houses up near
Marek's
. Too many eyes and ears.
“
We
don't even know the guy's there
,”
he said.

“
He is. I could feel him
.”

“
Yeah, well
.
.
.”
He raised his hand to her neck and
squeezed, not too hard.
“
You feel this too, right
?”

“
Billy
.
.
.”
She tried to pull free. He held fast.

“
Any surprises, you take a nap. Okay
?”

“
Okay, damn it
.”

“
You take the car up. Leave it. Walk up to Elena.
Drive down and around. I cover this end till you pick me up
.”

“
You want your balls cut off? Let go
.”

“
Promise, Carla. Or say good night
.”

”
I promise
.”

He turned her face toward him. Her eyes said that she
meant it.
“
Go
,”
he said.
“
The keys are in it
.”

Carla walked back to the service station. She would
keep her word, she thought, because she might need
Billy again.

No.

She would have kept it anyway. No
because
.

But she couldn't help wishing that she was here alone.
No Billy. No Elena to think about. And that it was still
dark.

Or that she was here with Claude. Claude wouldn't
have been such a pussy.

She started
Montoya'
s car. Then, letting it idle, she stripped the ta
r
p off Bunce
'
s body and fed it into the rear
.
seat. She grabbed his hair and pried his head back toward her so that his face would grin up at whoever opened that
door. The body was stiffening. He would stay that way.

Piece of shit.

Going to her house. Going to snatch her poor father.
Damned near giving him a heart attack. Shooting Yuri…
who really liked her…a sweet guy…best lay she's
had since Russo.

She saw Billy watching her, taking a step toward her.
His look said get on with it. She put the car in low and steered it toward the hill.

She would keep her promise, she thought. With just
one little Lucky Strike extra. Bunce seemed to nod, agree
ing with her, as she bounced over the curb cut.

Ca
rl
a reached
Marek's
front wall and continued on until
she could see Elena waiting. She stopped, backed into a
driveway, and pointed the car down hill. She let it coast,
making fine adjustments in the steering until the front end
was lined up just so. Carla flipped the inside trunk latch
and saw, in her mirror, that the lid had a good spring. It
opened wide. She wished she had time to arrange Felix
as well. Maybe bend that smashed arm up like a salute. Like he's saying
“
Hi
.”
Pin the arm to his head with that Jap knife of his.

Except Billy would shit. He'd say,
“
That's games.
Don't play games
.”

Okay. No more games.

She stepped from the car, one foot stretched to the
brake, then she let it roll. She trotted with it for several
feet, one hand on the wheel, aiming it. She stepped away.

Carla winced as the car veered. She tried body English.
It seemed to work. The car recovered by a few degrees
and gathered speed. She watched as it bore down on the wooden gate, Felix's head bouncing up as if to see where
he'd been. The car hit the gate at its hinge. A crunching,
grinding sound, surprisingly muted. It took out three feet
of wall. Felix's legs flailed on impact, the broken knee at
a crazy angle. Pieces of wall slammed them back down.

She stood, hands on hips, counting to ten.

Come on, guys. Come look.

She heard shouts. Two men appeared. She could not
make out what they were yelling but she knew they'd
found Bunce when their voices became high-pitched. The t
wo men drew guns. They looked around, stupidly, every
place but uphill.

”
Yo
!”
she called
.

They looked up.

Ca
rl
a raised her arms. She moved her hips as if to
music. Still dancing, she ran her fingers through her hair
at her temples, fluffing it, making sure that they saw that
it was red. One man started toward her. He hesitated when
he saw that she was beckoning to him. He raised a snub-
nosed pistol, taking aim with both hands. She laughed
at him.

Carla turned and started up the hill, arms still raised,
hips swaying to music only she could hear.

She grinned for the first time in weeks.

John Waldo dabbed at his mouth where the driver of
the red Porsche had slapped him. Called him a stupid fuck.

Waldo, feigning drunkenness, had tried to exchange li
cense and insurance information wit
h
him. The driver,
young and Hispanic, heavily jeweled, was furious. He
rage
d
at the damage done to his headlight and front
bumper. He snatched Waldo's wallet from his hand, then
slapped him in the face with it. He kicked at Waldo's
taillight, the one still unbroken, shattering the amber
plastic.

“
Forget it
,”
the other one called.
“
Let's get back
.”

The driver aimed another kick at Waldo as he bent to
pick up his wallet. The kick grazed Waldo's ribs and
soiled his shirt. Now the driver turned his anger toward
the second man, slightly older.

“
Now you say forget it? Did I tell you back there it
fucking
wasn't her? Did I say she's too young
?”

“
Chu
l
o
,”
the other one said firmly,
“
shut up and
let's go
.”

Waldo glanced in the direction Susan's taxi had gone. It had vanished into the traffic several blocks ahead.

The driver made a final menacing gesture with his fist,
then stormed back to the Porsche. He climbed in, backed
into a U-turn, and drove in the direction from which he'd
come. Waldo gave them a small head start, then followed.

“
For God's sake, Nellie
.”
Feldma
n
spoke in a hoarse
whisper.
“
What are you doing with such people
?”

Nellie had asked for a few minutes alone with the young doctor. In part to put him at ease, in part to get
some answers for Alan and Barbara.

“
They are perfectly nice, Michael. And I'm having fun
.”

“
They're the ones with the bandaged faces, aren't they?
Nellie, do you realize that they're fugitives? Perhaps
even murderers
?”

“
I've learned that there are worse things to be,
Michael
.”

He listened as she told him about Lisa, the girl who
had come to see her two Sundays ago. The one Mr. Bella
r
mi
ne had told him about. Yes, she was really there. She
told him what Henry Dunville had done to that sweet
child. And how he paid for it.

The young doctor listened with an expression of pro
found sadness, and of guilt for having kept his silence.

“
I'm going up there today, Nellie
,”
he said.
“
When I
leave I'm taking all the members with me
.”

“
That's what I told Alan and Barbara. They wonder
how you'll manage it
.”

“
It's not difficult. I'm transferring them to the Motion
Picture Country House. I have that authority
.”

“
Have you always
?”

“
Not
.
.
.
exactly
.”

She took his hand, patting it softly.
”I
know about the
files, Michael. I know they've blackmailed you
.”