The Bannerman Solution (The Bannerman Series) (21 page)

“It is as before,” Zivic said. The others nodded.

“The second is that Billy doesn't get another chance.
If he kills again on his own, or if he's arrested or charged
with any previous killing, I'm going to have to execute him.”

“That is also as before.”

“Molly? Billy agreed to that himself. He hasn't for
gotten, has he?”

“He hasn't.”

“I'd better have a talk with him. Tomorrow morn
ing.”

“Paul, he's my responsibility,” she said evenly,
firmly. “And I'm telling you that Billy did not kill either
one of those people.”

Bannerman rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. He felt
sure Molly was telling him the truth, although not
necessarily all of it. He had no wish to back her into a
corner if he could help it. He decided to ease off a notch.
“How do you think he's doing generally?” Paul asked.

“He's doing brilliantly,” she said, composing herself.
“Every week he seems to find a new interest. He reads
every word of
Time
magazine. He's studying vocabu
lary, he's learning to cook . . and this morning he
helped his landlady wallpaper her living room. Last
week he even took her out to dinner and a movie.”

“Billy had a date with a woman?” Paul almost
smiled.

“It was really very sweet.” Her expression warned
those at the table that she did not consider it a laughing
matter. “He got a haircut and bought a new shirt. He
wanted to know if he should bring flowers and candy. It
was . . .” she almost said
cute.
“It was nice.”

“I guess that's good,” Paul said cautiously, “as long as
you keep an eye on it. If Billy's never dated a normal
woman, he's probably never been hurt by one. The only
kinds of women he's known are. . . .”

“I know what kind he's known. I'll watch it.”

Bannerman saw little use in pursuing the subject of
the Gelman~Sweetzer suicides. Part of the truth was
clear. The rest he'd get from Billy.

“Let's move on.” He glanced around the table. “Any
problems with anyone else?” The reference was to the eight men and two women who were under the super
vision of the four he had called to that meeting.

Anton Zivic raised his pen. “Harry Bauer asked me
to mention two items.” Bauer was a certified public
accountant, once a German banker, who managed the
financial affairs of the Westport group. “All of the retail
and service businesses run by our people are showing a profit, with the exception of John Waldo's video rental store. Too much competition from the chains and drug
stores. But there is a locksmithing and home-security
systems business for sale in Westport. John asks that we
buy it for him.”

“What does Harry think?”

“The asking price is fair, the business is sound, and
John, of course, is already an expert in that field. This
same firm, incidentally, installed the system now in
place at the Westport town hall. The specifications could
be useful to us one day.”

“It sounds okay to me. Any objections?”

“He'll still stay on with the auxiliary police?” Carla
asked. “It's nice that John has his toys, but I'd rather have someone inside police headquarters.”

“He understands that, I assure you,” Zivic said pa
tiently.

“And if business
is
so bad, how come he drives a new
car?”

Anton sighed. Molly looked at the ceiling. Carla,
they knew, was still smarting over being forced to can
cel a Porsche, a red one at that, that she'd ordered last
year on the salary of a part-time librarian. Harry Bauer
felt that it would have attracted undue curiosity from
the Westport citizenry in general and the Internal Rev
enue Service in particular. The choice offered her was
to either work at an enterprise that might justify a
Porsche or drive a car appropriate to her apparent in
come. Carla opted grudgingly to be poor but unencum
bered. Harry found her a Volkswagen Rabbit, six years
old, that Carla accepted but which she denied both her
a
ff
ection and routine maintenance.

“Waldo's car is leased by his business,” Zivic an
swered. “Otherwise, he remains a man of modest needs.
On this subject, Harry also reminds us that he wants
everyone's complete financial records by the end of this
month if he is to prepare our tax returns.”

“Harry Bauer is a pain in the ass,” Carla muttered. Though she had to admit that thanks to Harry none of
them would ever be broke. Harry could do with money
what Molly could do with electronics or what Gary
could do with a scalpel. Except what
good was having it
if you had to live as if you didn't? It's fine for people like
B
il
ly who'd be happy with the price of a cheeseburger
and a TV Guide.
.

Billy.

Paul, she realized, didn't fully believe any of them.
Except Anton, who doesn't know but probably suspects.
She hadn't figured on Paul going around Molly. Maybe
she should have let Gary tell the truth after all. Oh, well.

“If there's no other business,” Paul said rising, “the
bar's open.”

“Paul?” Carla didn't move. “Aren't you going to tell
us about Palmer Reid?”

“What about him?”

“Anton says you met with him at Windermere.”

Paul made a face. “I did not meet with him. He
learned I was there and he came uninvited. I warned him not to do that again, especially at Windermere.”

“So? What did he want?”

“Just more of the same. He wants us to surrender
Anton, he wants me back in the field, or so.he claims,
and he wants the rest of you scattered and relocated
individually. The only new thing he offered was that we
can keep the funds we seized and, if you don't want to
trust him, he'll put your relocation under the FBI's Wit
ness Protection Program.”

“We're supposed to trust the FBI?” Carla smiled.

“It's academic. I said no.”

“Reid's not a man to be brushed off,” Russo warned.
“You don't think he's cooking something up?”

“Reid's always cooking something up.”

“I don't know why you don't let us scratch that son of
a bitch once and for all,” Carla said. “He's going to hit us
sooner or later.”

“Look . . .” Paul stepped to the bar and poured a glass of wine. “Let's not even think in those terms.
Reid's people will never come to Westport in force be
cause they'd never be able to get all of us. He probably
isn't even sure how many there are. I don't think he'll
try to infiltrate again because I've told him I'll be
obliged to kill any agent he sends in. He won't try a
snatch on Anton because he knows we'll retaliate— against his family if we have to—and all he'll end up
with is a swap. Palmer Reid is frustrated, humiliated and
angry, but as long as we keep our heads he has no ac
ceptable options.”

Carla was not convinced. “He's going to nail you one
of these days. You're going to disappear during one of your trips and he's going to swear up and down he has
no knowledge of it.”

“I've discussed that with him. He knows that Molly
and Anton are to assume he's behind it, regardless of
where else the evidence might point, and retaliate ac
cordingly. More importantly, I've explained our struc
ture to him. What we have here
is a collaborative that
will go right on functioning even if I walk outside and
get hit by a truck. He understands that I'm no longer
essential to it.”

“The heck you're not,” Molly Farrell said quietly.

“Don't start thinking that way either,” Paul told her. “My personal safety depends on Palmer Reid believing
that there's no head for him to cut off.”

“So,” Anton Zivic chose a cognac, “your assessment
is
that he will do nothing, Paul.”

“He'll watch us, try to contain us, and keep looking
for a crack he can exploit. In the meantime, I think his
immediate concern is making sure what we did here
can't happen in his other towns.”

“Perhaps it would not be a bad idea to stir up some
trouble in one or two of them,” Zivic suggested. “Take his mind off Westport.”

Paul answered with a pained expression. It was not a
new suggestion. It seemed to come up every time one
or more in the group felt restless. None of them, and
especially Anton, were accustomed to taking static de
fensive positions and leaving all initiative to the opposi
tion. But the point was, they were no longer a tactical action group. They were retired. They had new lives,
each of his own choosing. As far as Reid's other towns
were
concerned—there were five other “Westports”
across the country that he knew of—what was happen
ing in them was none of their business. So far, Paul had
declined even to name them.