The Osterman Weekend: A Novel

  Tanner stood where he was, one foot on the bottom step. He looked and wondered. He could tell in a minute, he thought.

  “All right … Omega.… You’ve heard of Omega?” Tanner stared into MacAuliff’s eyes, watching for the slightest betrayal.

  “I forgot. You’re not cleared for Omega, are you?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “Ask Jenkins. Maybe he’ll tell you.… Come on, let’s go.”

  Three telephone calls were made from MacAuliff’s police car. The information received was clear, precise. The Tremaynes and the Cardones were neither at home nor in the vicinity.

  The Cardones were in Rockland County, across the New York line. Dining out, the maid said; and if the police officer reached them would he be so kind as to ask them to call home. There was an urgent message from Philadelphia.

  The Tremaynes, Virginia sick again, had returned to their doctor in Ridge Park.

  The doctor confirmed the Tremaynes’ visit to his office. He was quite sure they’d gone into New York City. As a matter of fact, he had prescribed dinner and a show. Mrs. Tremayne’s relapse was primarily psychological. She had to get her mind on things other than the Lassiter depot.

  It was all so specific, thought Tanner. So well established through second and third parties.

  Yet neither couple was really accounted for.

  For as Tanner reconstructed the events in the basement, he realized that one of the figures intent on killing them could have been a woman.

  Fassett had said Omega was killers and fanatics. Men and women.

  “There’s your answer.” MacAuliff’s words intruded on Tanner’s thoughts. “We’ll check them out when they return. Easy enough to verify whatever they tell us … as you know.”

  “Yes.… Yes, of course. You’ll call me after you talk to them.”

  “I won’t promise that. I will if I think you should know.”

  The mechanic arrived to repair the automobiles. Tanner took him through the kitchen into the garage and watched the expression on his face as he inspected the severed wires.

  “You were right, Mr. Tanner. Every lead. I’ll splice in temporary connections and we’ll make them permanent down at the shop. Somebody played you a rotten joke.”

  Back in the kitchen Tanner rejoined his wife and the Ostermans. The children were upstairs in Raymond’s room where one of MacAuliff’s policemen had volunteered to stay with them, play whatever games they liked, try to keep them calm while the adults talked.

  Osterman was adamant. They had to get out of Saddle Valley, they had to get to Washington. Once the station wagon was repaired they’d leave, but instead of driving they’d go to Kennedy Airport and take a plane. They’d trust no taxis, no limousines. They’d give MacAuliff no explanations; they’d simply get in the car and go. MacAuliff had no legal right to hold them.

  Tanner sat next to Ali, across from the Ostermans, and held her hand. Twice Bernie and Leila had tried to force him to explain everything to his wife and both times Tanner had said he would do so privately.

  The Ostermans thought they understood.

  Ali didn’t and so he held her hand.

  And each time Leila spoke Tanner remembered her shining brooch in the darkness of the basement—and the unmarked wall behind her.

  The front door chimed and Tanner went to answer it. He came back smiling.

  “Sounds from reality. The telephone repair crew.” Tanner did not return to his seat. The blurred outlines of a plan were slowly coming in focus. He’d need Ali.

  His wife turned and looked at him, reading his thoughts. “I’m going up to see the children.”

  She left and Tanner walked to the table. He reached down for his pack of cigarettes and put them in his shirt pocket.

  “You’re going to tell her now?” asked Leila.

  “Yes.”

  “Tell her everything. Maybe she’ll make some sense out of this … Omega.” Bernie still looked unbelieving. “Christ knows, I can’t.”

  “You saw the mark on the wall.”

  Bernie looked strangely at Tanner. “I saw a mark on the wall.”

  “Excuse me, Mr. Tanner.” It was the downstairs policeman at the kitchen door. “The telephone men want to see you. They’re in your study.”

  “Okay. Be right out.” He turned back to Bernie Osterman. “To refresh your memory, the mark you saw was the Greek letter Omega.”

  He walked rapidly out the kitchen door and went to the study. Outside the windows, the storm clouds hovered, the rain, though letting up, was still strong. It was dark in the room; only the desk lamp was on.

  “Mr. Tanner.” The voice came from behind and he swung around. There was the man named Cole, dressed in the blue jacket of the telephone company, looking at him intently. Another man stood next to him. “Please don’t raise your voice.”

  Tanner’s shock was such that he lost control of himself. He lunged at the agent. “You son of a bitch …”

  He was stopped by both men. They held his arms tightly behind him, pressed against the small of his back. Cole gripped his shoulders and spoke rapidly, with great intensity.

  “Please! We know what you’ve been through! We can’t change that, but we can tell you it’s over! It’s over, Mr. Tanner. Omega’s cracked!”

  “Don’t you tell me anything! You bastards! You filthy bastards! You don’t exist! They never heard of Fassett! Your phones are disconnected! Your …”

  “We had to get out fast!” interrupted the agent. “We had to abandon both posts. It was mandatory. It will all be explained to you.”

  “I don’t believe a thing you say!”

  “Just listen! Make up your mind later, but listen. Fassett’s not two miles from here putting the last pieces together. He and Washington are closing in. We’ll have Omega by morning.”

  “What Omega? What Fassett? I called Washington! I talked to McLean, Virginia!”

  “You spoke with a man named Dwight. In title, he’s Andrews’ superior, but not in fact. Dwight was never cleared for Omega. He checked with Clandestine Services, and the call came to the Director. There was no alternative but to deny, Mr. Tanner. In these cases we always deny. We have to.”

  “Where are the guards outside? What happened to all your Goddamned taps? Your shock troops who wouldn’t let us be touched?”

  “It will all be explained to you.… I won’t lie. Mistakes are made. One massive error, if you like. We can never make up for them, we know that. But we’ve never been faced with an Omega before. The main point is—the objective is right in front of us. We’re on target now!”

  “That’s horseshit! The main point is my wife and children were almost killed!”

  “Look. Look at this.” Cole took a small metal disk from his pocket. His colleague let go of Tanner’s arms. “Go on, take it. Look at it closely.”

  Tanner took the object in his hand, and turned it to catch the light. He saw that the tiny object was corroded, pock-marked.

  “So?”

  “That’s one of the miniaturized pick-ups. The corrosion is acid. Acid dropped on it, to ruin it. The pick-ups have been messed up in every room. We’re not getting any transmissions.”

  “How could anyone find them?”

  “It’s easy enough with the proper equipment. There’s no evidence on any of these, no fingerprints. That’s Omega, Mr. Tanner.”

  “Who is it?”

  “Even I don’t know that. Only Fassett does. He’s got everything under control. He’s the best man in three continents. If you won’t take my word ask the Secretary of State. The President, if you like. Nothing more will happen in this house.”

  John Tanner took several deep breaths and looked at the agent. “You realize you haven’t explained anything.”

  “I told you. Later.”

  “That’s not good enough!”

  Cole returned Tanner’s questioning look. “What choice have you got?”

  “Call that policeman in here and start
yelling.”

  “What good would that do you? Buy you a couple of hours of peace. How long would it last?”

  Tanner would ask him one further question. Whatever the answer, it would make no difference. The plan in John Tanner’s mind was crystallizing. But Cole would never know it.

  “What’s left for me to do?”

  “Do nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

  “Whenever you people say that, the mortars start pounding the beach.”

  “No mortars now. That’s over with.”

  “I see. It’s over with.… All right. I … do … nothing. May I go back to my wife now?”

  “Of course.”

  “Incidentally, is the telephone really fixed?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  The news editor turned, his arms aching, and walked slowly into the hallway.

  No one could be trusted any longer.

  He would force Omega’s hand himself.

  27

  Ali sat on the edge of the bed and listened to her husband’s story. There were moments when she wondered if he were sane. She knew that men like her husband, men who functioned a great deal of the time under pressure, were subject to breakdowns. She could understand maniacs in the night, lawyers and stockbrokers in the panic of impending destruction, even John’s compelling drive to reform the unreformable. Yet what he was telling her now was beyond her comprehension.

  “Why did you agree?” she asked him.

  “It sounds crazy, but I was trapped. I didn’t have a choice. I had to go through with it.”

  “You volunteered!” said Ali.

  “Not really. Once I agreed to let Fassett reveal the names, I signed an affidavit which made me indictable under the National Security Act. Once I knew who they were I was hung. Fassett knew I would be. It was impossible to continue normal relationships with them. And if I didn’t, I might step over the line and be prosecuted.”

  “How awful,” said Ali softly.

  “Filthy is more to the point.”

  He told her about the succeeding episodes with Ginny and Leila outside by the pool. And how Dick Tremayne had followed him into the garage. Finally how Bernie had started to tell him something just before Janet’s screams had wakened the household.

  “He never told you what it was?”

  “He said he was only offering me money for investments. I accused them both of being part of Omega.… Then he saved my life.”

  “No. Wait a minute.” Ali sat forward. “When you went out for the umbrellas and we all watched you in the rain … and then the shots started and we all panicked.… I tried to go out and Leila and Bernie stopped me. So I screamed and tried to break away. Leila—not Bernie—held me against the wall. Suddenly she looked at Bernie and said, ‘You can go, Bernie! It’s all right, Bernie!’ … I didn’t understand, but she ordered him.”

  “A woman doesn’t send her husband in front of a firing squad.”

  “That’s what I wondered about. I wondered if I’d have the courage to send you out … for Bernie.”

  And so Tanner told his wife about the brooch; and the wall with no bullet marks.

  “But they were in the basement, darling. They weren’t outside. They weren’t the ones who shot at us.” Ali stopped. The memory of the horror was too much. She couldn’t bring herself to speak further of it. Instead, she told him about Joe’s hysterics in the living room and the fact that Betty Cardone had watched them through the window.

  “So here we are,” he said when she had finished. “And I’m not sure where that is.”

  “But the man downstairs said it would be over. He told you that.”

  “They’ve told me a lot of things.… But which one is it? Or is it all three?”

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Omega. It has to be in couples. They have to operate in couples.… But the Tremaynes and the Cardones were gassed in the car. They were left out on Lassiter.… Or were they?”

  Tanner put his hands in his pockets and paced the floor. He went to the window and leaned against the sill, looking out on the front lawn.

  “There are a lot of cops outside. They’re bored to death. I bet they haven’t seen the basement. I wonder—”

  The glass shattered. Tanner spun around and blood spurted out of his shirt. Ali screamed, running to her husband as he fell to the floor.

  More shots were fired but none came through the window. They were outside.

  The patrolman in the hallway crashed through the door and raced to the fallen Tanner. No more than three seconds later the downstairs guard rushed into the room, his pistol drawn. Voices were heard yelling outside on the grounds. Leila entered, gasped, and ran to Ali and her fallen husband.

  “Bernie! For God’s sake, Bernie!”

  But Osterman did not appear.

  “Get him on the bed!” roared the patrolman from the upstairs hallway. “Please, ma’am, let go! Let me get him on the bed!”

  Osterman could be heard yelling on the staircase. “What the hell happened?” He came into the room. “Oh, Jesus! Oh, Jesus Christ!”

  Tanner regained consciousness and looked around. MacAuliff stood next to the doctor; Ali sat on the bed. Bernie and Leila were at the footrail, trying to smile at him reassuringly.

  “You’re going to be fine. Very superficial,” said the doctor. “Painful, but not serious. Shoulder cartilage, that’s what it is.”

  “I was shot?”

  “You were shot.” MacAuliff agreed.

  “Who shot me?”

  “We don’t know that.” MacAuliff tried to conceal his anger, but it surfaced. The captain was obviously convinced he was being ignored; that vital information was being withheld from him. “But I tell you this, I intend to question each one of you if it takes all night to find out what’s happening here. You’re all being damned fools and I won’t permit it!”

  “The wound is dressed,” said the doctor, putting on his jacket. “You can get up and around as soon as you feel like it, only take it easy, Mr. Tanner. Not much more than a deep cut. Very little loss of blood.” The doctor smiled and left rapidly. He had no reason to remain.

  The moment the door was closed, MacAuliff made his abrupt statement. “Would you all wait downstairs, please? I want to be left alone with Mr. Tanner.”

  “Captain, he was just shot,” said Bernie firmly. “You can’t question him now; I won’t let you.”

  “I’m a police officer on official business; I don’t need your permission. You heard the doctor. He’s not seriously hurt.”

  “He’s been through enough!” Ali stared at MacAuliff.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Tanner. This is necessary. Now will you all please …”

  “No, we will not!” Osterman left his wife’s side and approached the police chief. “He’s not the one who should be questioned. You are. Your whole Goddamn police force should be put on the carpet.… I’d like to know why that patrol car didn’t stop, Captain! I heard your explanation and I don’t accept it!”

  “You continue this, Mr. Osterman, I’ll call in an officer and have you locked up!”

  “I wouldn’t try that.…”

  “Don’t tempt me! I’ve dealt with your kind before! I worked New York, sheenie!”

  Osterman had grown very still. “What did you say?”

  “Don’t provoke me. You’re provoking me!”

  “Forget it!” said Tanner from the bed. “I don’t mind, really.… Go ahead downstairs, all of you.”

  Alone with MacAuliff, Tanner sat up. His shoulder hurt, but he could move it freely.

  MacAuliff walked to the end of the bed and held the footrail with both hands. He spoke calmly, “You talk now. You tell me what you know or I’ll book you for witholding information in attempted murder.”

  “They were trying to kill me.”

  “That’s still murder. M-u-r-d-e-r. It doesn’t make any difference whether it’s yours or that big Jew bastard’s!”

  “Why are you so hostile?” Tanner asked. “Tell me.
You should be begging at my feet. I’m a taxpayer and you haven’t protected my house.”

  MacAuliff made several attempts to speak but he was choking on his own anger. Finally he controlled himself.

  “Okay. I know a lot of you don’t like the way I run things. You bastards want to put me out and get some fucking hippie from a half-assed law school! Well, the only way you can do that is if I louse up. And I’m not gonna louse up! My record stays clean! This town stays clean! So you tell me what’s going on and if I need help, I’ll call it in! I can’t do that without something to go on!”

  Tanner rose from the bed, at first unsteadily, and then, to his surprise, firmly.

  “I believe you. You’re too frantic to lie.… And you’re right. A lot of us don’t like you. But that may be chemical, so let’s let it go.… Still, I’m not answering questions. Instead, I’m giving you an order. You’ll keep this house guarded night and day until I tell you to stop! Do you understand that?”

  “I don’t take orders!”

  “You’ll take them from me. If you don’t, I’ll plaster you across sixty million television screens as the typical example of the outdated, uneducated, unenlightened threat to real law enforcement! You’re obsolete. Get that pension and run.”

  “You couldn’t do that …”

  “Couldn’t I? Check around.”

  MacAuliff stood facing Tanner. The veins in his neck were so apparent the news director thought they would burst. “I hate you bastards!” he said coldly. “I hate your guts.”

  “As I do yours.… I’ve seen you in action.… But that doesn’t matter now. Sit down.”

  Ten minutes later MacAuliff rushed out of the house into the diminishing July storm. He slammed the front door behind him and gave cursory orders to several police deputies on the lawn. The men acknowledged with feeble salutes, and MacAuliff climbed into his car.

  Tanner took a shirt from his bureau drawer and awkwardly put it on. He went out of the bedroom and started down the stairs.

  Ali was in the hallway talking to the police officer and saw him. She rushed up to meet him on the staircase landing.