The Bannerman Solution (The Bannerman Series) (73 page)

“I'll see you in ten hours.” He replaced the phone.

Bannerman was splashing water on his face, trying to stop the burning, trying to separate the sting of Les
ko's words from their content, trying to see more clearly
the picture that was forming in his mind when the ring
of the phone jolted him again.

“Paul?” The voice on the other end took a hesitant
breath. “This is Palmer Reid.”

“Yes, Palmer.” With e
f
fort, he kept his voice even.

“Paul, I've heard about the Lesko girl. The Swiss
cabled a background check on you and two of your
people. I saw the traffic. I picked up on it just to see what
you were up to. Then when they
…
”

“Palmer, why are you calling?”

“I'm calling to give you my word of honor that nei
ther myself nor my people had anything to do with it.”

Paul remained silent. Waiting.

“Damn it, Paul, this is the truth. Whatever our differ
ences, and even though I would happily see you and all
your killers in your graves, I would not dream of harm
ing that girl.”

“I believe you, Palmer.”

A pause. “Do you?”

“Yes.” For the moment. Until I learn differently. But,
in fact, he could not imagine what Palmer Reid could
hope to gain by harming Susan.

“Paul, I'm offering you a truce. And even though you
may reject it, I'm offering any assistance that's mine to
give. Men, money . . . anything.”

‘Thank you, Palmer. I'll let you know.”

“I mean it, Paul. I have family of my own.”
             
\

Whom he didn't want visited by Billy McHugh
again. “Palmer, I said I believe you.”

“Is it true that cocaine was used?”

“Yes.”

“Will she recover?”

“I don't know.”

“Paul, cocaine dealers have been known to kill that
way. They have also been known to kill family or loved
ones to heighten the suffering of their primary victim.
Are you aware that Susan's father slaughtered several
drug traffickers two years ago?”

Paul understood what he was suggesting. “But why
now, Palmer? And why in Switzerland when they had
two years to get her back in New York?”

“Because Switzerland is where Elena is.”

“Where who is?”

“Elena, Paul. If you want my opinion, it was done
either to teach her a lesson as well or it might even have
been done at her direction.”

“Palmer . . . what are you talking about?”

A
l
ong pause. “You're saying you don't know her?”

“Who is she?”

“For heaven's sake.”

“Palmer . . . ?”

“She ordered the death of Lesko's partner. Lesko
killed three of her Bolivians to avenge him but left
Elena alive at the scene. There has been talk that she
and Lesko had been in league all along. There's also talk
that they've fallen out. Either way, the attack upon that
lovely young girl seems to be a case of Lesko's chickens
coming home to roost.”

'T see.”   ,

“Paul
…
do you know why I called you?”

“To keep me from coming after you.”

“There's a better reason. I despise these people,
Paul. They are destroyers of children. They corrupt all
that they touch. Some of my own men, I'm afraid, have
succumbed to temptations of money, of drugs, of per
verted sex. They have been bribed with the bodies of
young girls, Paul. Innocent little girls, made to suffer the
most appalling sexual abuse and then strangled so they -
could not identify their tormentors.”

”Un-huh. I see.”

“We can wipe them out, Paul. Working together,
your people and mine, we can descend upon them like
the wrath of God.”

“Let me think about that.”

“Until we talk again, the truce is in force. No action
will be taken against any of your people. Will you make
the same promise?”

“If yours behave? Same as always, Palmer.”

“Paul?”

“Yes.”

“My prayers are with Susan.”

Paul set the phone in its cradle and sat back, staring out into the night. Palmer Reid, he thought. He's never
been able to resist that one extra trowelful. Now it's
abused children.

As for Elena, Paul had pretended no knowledge of
her on general principles. When Reid makes a call such
as this he usually talks from a prepared script and does
not react well to surprises. He'll now spend the rest of
the day revising his assumptions. Moves, countermoves.

As for the offer of a truce, that nonsense about strik
ing a blow for decency aside, it had to mean that Reid was frightened. With good reason. Anton had already
hit him hard even before the attack on Susan. That
attack could not have been an act of retaliation. It had to
have been set up well before. But Reid knew he'd have
top billing on any enemies list, and that was reason
enough to make the call. Guilty or not. Moves and coun
termoves.

As for Paul saying that he believed him, it was less a
means of disarming or reassuring Reid, than it was an
encouragement to get Reid past the protestations and
on to the point. Paul had no interest in sorting out what
was true and what was not in what Reid had to say. Reid
had, at best, a psychotic's concept of truth. Truth was a
tactic. He did not so much tell it as retreat into it.

We'll see. First things first. The call that had shaken him was Lesko's. And still no word from Carla. Susan
there alone but for a bored, possibly napping securityguard who may or may not have even arrived. There
would be no sleep. He reached for his coat.

The phone rang a third time. He answered.

“Hey, James Bond.” Caroline Bass. “How are you, handsome?”

“Caroline?” He forced gladness into his voice.
“Where are you?”

“Me and Ray are up in Zurich at this fancy hotel
called the Dolder Grand. Day we got off the train we
stopped in for lunch and for Ray to steal an ashtray, but
the food was so good we ended up stayin'. Time to move
on, though. I'm about to split a seam.”

“Where are you heading next?”

“Well, Ray wanted to drive down to the French Rivi
era to see some more beautiful people but this really
isn't what you'd call high season at those topless
beaches. I said we know two beautiful people right
down in Klosters and why don't we drive down come
morning and see if we can't get you and Susan out for
lunch.”

“I'm afraid it's not a good time, Caroline. Susan's had
an accident.”

“Oh, shoot, no.” Her voice fell. “One day there and
she busted herself up?”

“Something like that, yes.”

“How bad, Paul?”

“Listen, Caroline
…
are you in your room?”

“Down at the bar.”

“There's a policeman here. Can I call you back in
five minutes?”

“You better.” She read him the number.

Paul put down the phone and stared at his watch.
Three minutes. Enough time. He dialed information first, then the hotel switchboard and asked for their
room. No answer. But now he knew they were regis
tered. He dialed the number of the bar and asked for
Mrs. Bass.

”A
policeman? Paul, how bad is it?”

“She's umm
….
” Paul paused and swallowed hard,
as if to keep his voice from breaking “She's in a coma.
They're not sure whether she'll come out of it or not.”

“Oh, dear Lord,” Paul heard the sound of a loud,
frantic whisper. She was calling Ray Bass to the phone.
He could make out the words
alive,
and
coma,
and
head
injury. ”

“Caroline. . . .”

“Paul, this is Ray.”