The Bannerman Solution (The Bannerman Series) (50 page)

“It was that neat?” Lesko asked doubtfully. “Palmer
Reid to the rescue?”

Loftus smiled. “Nothing with Palmer Reid ever goes
in a straight line. Understanding that can keep you
alive.”

“So Reid probably set up the hits on Elena.”

“Some of them,” Loftus nodded, “after she initially
told him to fuck off. Reid had the Bolivian Army in his
pocket, one colonel in particular. It was him who kept
hitting her until she had to take Reid's offer.”

Initially, Loftus explained, Palmer Reid's protection
consisted of guaranteeing her shipments against
seizure, providing protection when she traveled, and
directing all antidrug activity away from her and
against her competitors. The Betancourts prospered
greatly for a while but the cocaine wars soon grew to
tally out of control. There were three warring factions;
criminal, establishment and radical. The distributors
were the criminals in that all their activities were ille
gal. The growers were the establishment in that their
activities were not only legal but essential to their re
spective economies. But to complicate matters, a third
faction arose. It was a Soviet-aligned left-wing insur
gency called The Patriotic Union.

The Patriotic Union, founded in Colombia, declared
war on all traffickers, outlaw or otherwise. Bands of
them, including many policemen and soldiers, began
burning refineries, bombing cars and laboratories, and
leaving dozens of
trafficantes
nailed to their own front doors or doused with gasoline and set ablaze in village
squares. Since they were a left-wing group, Palmer Reid
and the CIA found themselves firmly allied with the
trafficantes,
and began mounting paramilitary opera
tions against the Patriotic Union. The outlaw
traffi
cantes
were more than happy to tell the CIA who was
Patriotic Union and who was not. It took Reid the better
part of two years to realize that almost everyone who
was fingered as Patriotic Union, including judges,
politi
cal leaders,
journalists and clergy, also happened to be a
sworn enemy of the
trafficantes.

“Hold it.” Lesko raised a hand. He wasn't especially
interested in what the greasers did to each other or
whether the CIA had painted itself into another corner.
All he'd asked about was Elena. “You're telling me
Elena was just this nice lady who was only trying to
keep the family farm from going under. She lives in a
tough world, she had to protect herself, so she goes and
shoots my partner in the head.”

“It
is
a tough world, Lesko.”

“It's also a very confusing world,” Lesko showed his
teeth, “because now you're telling me a CIA guy killed
Katz.”

“His job was to protect her interests but you can't
call it a CIA hit. Elena gave the order.”

“So she told me.”

Loftus studied him. It was Lesko's first clear admis
sion that he'd ever actually spoken to her. “Lesko, how
come you left her alive?”

“I still don't know.”

“Personally, I liked the lady. Maybe you did, too.”

Lesko started to deny it. Why bother? “Where is she
now? Do you know?”

“My guess? Back in Zurich. After the barbershop,
she had enough.”

“So how do I still figure in this? And how did it lead
to Donovan being dead?”

“Elena kept you alive, Lesko.” Loftus said this with a
shrug that said her motive was a mystery to him. “Her
friends wanted to hit you. They might have even gone
for your daughter first. Some of our people wanted you nailed for blasting one of ours and because we figured
you had to be in it with Katz. But Elena told Reid, if you
go, so does he.”

Lesko's eyes glazed over. He was seeing Elena as
Loftus spoke. Standing there with death all around her.
Very scared. Her chin quivering a little. But brave. No
begging. No apologies.
We live by our wits and we ac
cept the risks, Mr. Lesko.
Then she tries to buy him off
w
ith cocaine. Not all of it. Some of it.
Lady, why
wouldn't I just shoot you and take it all?

Because there would be no honor in that, Mr. Lesko.

He blinked the scene away. So she protected him.
He was supposed to be grateful? “The other night,” he
said, “you told me word on the street says I've been
seeing her since. Where'd that come from?”

“No hard information,” Loftus admitted. “It's just
that the way she warned people off you and your family,
it was hard to believe there wasn't more between you.”

“You said people drew bad conclusions. That was one
of them?”

Loftus nodded.

“So I ask Donovan to check on you, that check leads
to Palmer Reid, Donovan talks to him and the next day
he's dead. Why did that happen, Robert?”

“More bad conclusions.”

“Reid killed Donovan?”

“He ordered it. An agent named
F
rank Burdick did
it. You just heard me say that for the first and last time.”

“You won't testify?”

“No way.”

“Why are you telling me?”

“Because I want out of this. The only way I can walk
is if Reid gives his blessing or he's dead.”

\”You don't have enough on him? You can't leave
affidavits with a lawyer and tell Reid they go to the press
if he touches you?”

“Come on, Lesko. You haven't heard a single thing
about Reid that he couldn't deny or explain away. You
couldn't even get him on a tax rap because he never
personally profited. The man's untouchable.”

“But on your word I'm supposed to run out and
shoot him.” Lesko began pacing the laundry room. “Robert,” his eyes narrowed, “let's say I believe you.
But if Reid is so untouchable, why would a little nosing
around have gotten Buzz Donovan killed?”

“If he'd just asked about Reid and me, or even about
Elena, nothing would have happened.”

Lesko waited, uncomprehending.

Loftus saw the blank look. It was what he'd hoped for. “You really don't get it, do you?”

A light went on. Slowly. Lesko's face grew slack.

“Bannerman, Lesko. He asked about Bannerman.”

The hair on Lesko's neck began to rise. He felt light
headed. He took a step toward Loftus, who could see
the rage building behind Lesko's eyes.

“Take it easy. That's a mistake, too.”

Bannerman. The name was screaming now in Les
ko's mind. And he heard David Katz shouting at him
from a distance, his voice an echo.
“I told you. Didn 't I
tell you? The guy's dirty.”
And Donovan. He'd been
sure Donovan had held something back about Banner
man. And here it was. Bannerman and Reid. Reid and
Elena. Elena in Switzerland. Bannerman in Switzer
land.
With Susan.
And this son of a bitch knew it all the
time. He let them go.

“Lesko! Schmuck! Listen to me.”

Loftus was shouting at him through a red haze. Back
ing away. His hand reaching for his empty gun and holding it like a billy.

“Lesko, don't. It's all a mistake.”

Lesko charged him.

The woman in the lobby of the Grosvenor watched
them leave. She was in her late fifties, slender, expen
sively dressed, but there was an easy, earthy quality
about her. She touched the hand of the man with her
and spoke in a soft southern drawl.

”Hon, don't you think we should tag along?
Keep an
eye of them?”

“Darlin’,” the man shook his head. “I think they've
seen just about enough of us for one day.” He had quick,
mirthful eyes, a ready smile. He was of medium height,
with the sort of shape that used to be described as pros
perous. “Ask me, that feller was just
o
n the edge of
walking over here until he decided he'd rather balance
a bowl on his head.”

“Good to know he has a sense of fun,” she smiled, “if
we're going to be traveling with them. Though I
wouldn't mind knowing a bit more about him. Anything
strike you about the way he moves, sweetheart?”

“He does seem a bit watchful, doesn't he. Could be a
lot of things, though. Could be he has a wife someplace.
Could be he's afraid she has detectives on him.”