The Osterman Weekend: A Novel

  “There are police crawling all over the place. I wish it were an army.… Oh, Lord! I’m trying to be calm. I really am! But I can’t!” She embraced him, conscious of the bandage beneath his shirt. “What are we going to do? Who are we going to turn to?”

  “Everything’s going to be all right.… We just have to wait a little longer.”

  “What for?”

  “MacAuliff is getting me information.”

  “What information?”

  Tanner moved Ali against the wall. He spoke quietly, making sure the policeman wasn’t watching them. “Whoever was outside those basement windows is hurt. One I know is badly wounded—in the leg. The other we can’t be sure of, but Bernie thinks he hit him in the shoulder or the chest. MacAuliff’s going out to see the Cardones and the Tremaynes. He’ll phone me then. It may take quite a while, but he’ll get back to me.”

  “Did you tell him what to look for?”

  “No. Nothing. I simply asked him to follow up their stories about where they were. That’s all. I don’t want MacAuliff making decisions. That’s for Fassett.”

  But it wasn’t for Fassett, thought Tanner. It wasn’t for anyone but him any longer. He’d tell Ali when he had to. At the last minute. So he smiled at her and put his arm around her waist and wished he could be free to love her again.

  The telephone rang at ten-forty-seven.

  “John? It’s Dick. MacAuliff was over to see me.” Tremayne was breathing hard into the telephone, but was keeping his voice reasonably calm. His control was stretched very thin, however.

  “… I have no idea what you’re involved with—intended murder, for God’s sake!—and I don’t want to know, but it’s more than I can take! I’m sorry, John, but I’m getting the family out of here. I’ve got reservations on Pan Am at ten in the morning.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Tremayne did not reply. Tanner spoke again. “I asked you where you were going.”

  “Sorry, John … this may sound rotten, but I don’t want to tell you.”

  “I think I understand.… Do us a favor, though. Drop by on the way to the airport.”

  “I can’t promise that. Good-bye.”

  Tanner held his finger down on the phone and then released it. He dialed the Saddle Valley police station.

  “Police Headquarters. Sergeant Dale.”

  “Captain MacAuliff, please. John Tanner calling.”

  “He’s not here, Mr. Tanner.”

  “Can you reach him? It’s urgent”

  “I can try on the car radio; do you want to hold?”

  “No, just have him call me as soon as possible.” Tanner gave his telephone number and hung up, MacAuliff was probably on his way to the Cardones. He should have arrived by now. He’d call soon. Tanner returned to the living room. He wanted to unnerve the Ostermans.

  It was part of his plan.

  “Who called?” asked Bernie.

  “Dick. He heard what happened.… He’s taking the family and leaving.”

  The Ostermans exchanged looks.

  “Where?”

  “He didn’t say. They’ve got a flight in the morning.”

  “He didn’t say where he was going?” Bernie stood up casually but couldn’t hide his anxiety.

  “I told you. He wouldn’t tell me.”

  “That’s not what you said.” Osterman looked at Tanner. “You said ‘didn’t say.’ That’s different from not telling you.”

  “I suppose it is.… You still think we should head down to Washington?”

  “What?” Osterman was looking at his wife. He hadn’t heard Tanner’s question.

  “Do you still think we should go to Washington?”

  “Yes.” Bernie stared at Tanner. “Now more than ever. You need protection. Real protection.… They’re trying to kill you, John.”

  “I wonder. I wonder if it’s me they’re trying to kill.”

  “What do you mean?” Leila stood up, facing Tanner.

  The telephone rang.

  Tanner returned quickly to the study and picked up the receiver. It was MacAuliff.

  “Listen,” said Tanner quietly. “I want you to describe exactly—exactly—where Tremayne was during your interrogation.”

  “In his study.”

  “Where in his study?”

  “At his desk. Why?”

  “Did he get up? Did he walk around? To shake your hand, for instance?”

  “No.… No, I don’t think so. No, he didn’t.”

  “What about his wife? She let you in?”

  “No. The maid. Tremayne’s wife was upstairs. She was sick. We verified that; called the doctor, remember?”

  “All right. Now tell me about the Cardones, Where did you find them?”

  “Spoke first with his wife. One of the kids let me in. She was lying on the sofa, her husband was in the garage.”

  “Where did you talk with him?”

  “I just told you. In the garage. I didn’t get there too soon either. He’s on his way to Philadelphia. His father’s sick. They gave him last rites.”

  “Philadelphia?… Where exactly was he?”

  “In the garage, I said! His bags were packed. He was in the car. He told me to be quick. He wanted to take off.”

  “He was in the car?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Didn’t that seem strange to you?”

  “Why should it? For Christ’s sake, his father’s dying! He wanted to get the hell to Philadelphia. I’ll check it out.”

  Tanner hung up the phone.

  Neither couple was seen by MacAuliff under normal conditions. None stood, none walked. Both had reasons not to be at his house on Sunday.

  Tremayne behind a desk, frightened, immobile.

  Cardone seated in an automobile, anxious only to drive away.

  One or both wounded.

  One or both, perhaps. Omega.

  The time had come. Outside the rain had stopped; his traveling would be easier now, although the woods would still be wet.

  In the kitchen, he changed into the clothes he’d carried down from the bedroom: black trousers, a black long-sleeved sweater, and sneakers. He put money in his pocket, making sure that his change included at least six dimes. Finally, he clipped a pencil-light to the top of his sweater.

  Then he went to the hallway door and called Ali into the kitchen. He dreaded this moment far more than anything which lay before him. Yet there was no other way. He knew he had to tell her.

  “What are you doing? Why—”

  Tanner held his finger to his lips and drew her close to him. They had walked to the far end of the kitchen by the garage door, the furthest point from the hallway. He whispered calmly to her.

  “Remember I asked you to trust me?”

  Ali nodded her head slowly.

  “I’m going out for a while; just for a little while. I’m meeting a couple of men who can help us. MacAuliff made contact.”

  “Why cant they come here? I don’t want you to go outside. You can’t go outside!”

  “There’s no other practical way. It’s been arranged,” he lied, knowing she suspected the lie. I’ll phone you in a little while. You’ll know everything’s all right then. But until I do, I want you to tell the Ostermans I went for a walk.… I’m upset, anything you like. It’s important they think you believe I went for a walk. That I’ll be back any minute. Maybe I’m talking to some of the men outside.”

  “Who are you going to meet? You’ve got to tell me.”

  “Fassett’s men.”

  She held his gaze. The lie was established between them now and she searched his eyes. “You have to do this?” she asked quietly.

  “Yes.” He embraced her roughly, anxious to leave, and walked rapidly to the kitchen door.

  Outside he strolled about his property, establishing his presence with the police deputies in front and back of his house, to the point where he guessed he was no longer really watched. And then, when he felt no one was lookin
g at him, he disappeared into the woods.

  He made a wide circle towards the west, using the tiny beam of the pencil light to avoid obstacles. The wetness, the softness of the earth, made the going difficult, but eventually he saw the backyard lights of his neighbors the Scanlans, three hundred feet from his property line. He was soaked as he approached the Scanlans’ back porch and rang the bell.

  Fifteen minutes later—again longer than Tanner had anticipated—he climbed into Scanlan’s Mercedes coupe and started the engine. Scanlan’s Smith & Wesson magazine-clip pistol was in his belt, three extra clips of ammunition in his pocket.

  Tanner swung left down Orchard Drive toward the center of the Village. It was past midnight; he was behind the schedule he had set.

  He took momentary stock of himself and his actions. He had never considered himself an exceptionally brave man. Whatever courage he had ever displayed was always born of the moment. And he wasn’t feeling courageous now. He was desperate.

  It was strange. His fear—the profound, deeply felt terror he had lived with for days—now created its own balance, gave birth to its own anger. Anger at being manipulated. He could accept it no longer.

  Saddle Valley was quiet, the main street softly lit by replicas of gas lamps, the storefronts in keeping with the town’s image of quiet wealth. No neons, no floodlights, everything subdued.

  Tanner drove past The Village Pub and the taxi stand, made a U-turn, and parked. The public telephone was directly across from the Mercedes. He wanted the car positioned far enough away so he could see the whole area. He walked across the street and made his first call.

  “It’s Tanner, Tremayne. Be quiet and listen to me.… Omega’s finished. It’s being disbanded. I’m calling it off. Zurich’s calling it off. We’ve put you through the final test and you’ve failed. The stupidity displayed by everyone is beyond belief! I’m issuing the phase-out orders tonight. Be at the Lassiter depot at two-thirty. And don’t try to call my home. I’m phoning from the Village. I’ll take a taxi to the area. My house is being watched, thanks to all of you! Be at the depot at two-thirty and bring Virginia. Omega’s collapsed! If you want to get out alive, be there.… Two-thirty!”

  Tanner pressed down the receiver. The Cardones next.

  “Betty? It’s Tanner. Listen closely. You get hold of Joe and tell him Omega is finished. I don’t care how you do it, but get him back here. That’s an order from Zurich. Tell him that!… Omega’s collapsed. You’ve all been damn fools. Disabling my cars was stupid. I’m issuing phase-out orders tonight at the Lassiter depot at two-thirty. You and Joe be there! Zurich expects you. And don’t try to phone me back. I’m calling from the Village. My house is watched. I’ll take a taxi. Remember. The Lassiter depot—tell Joe.”

  Once more Tanner pressed the receiver down. His third call was to his own home.

  “Ali? Everything’s fine, darling. There’s nothing to worry about. Now, don’t talk. Put Bernie on the phone right away.… Ali, not now! Put Bernie on the phone!… Bernie, it’s John. I’m sorry I took off but I had to. I know who Omega is but I need your help. I’m calling from the Village. I’ll need a car later … not now; later. I don’t want mine seen in the Village. I’ll use a taxi. Meet me out at the Lassiter depot at two-thirty. Turn right out of the driveway and go east on Orchard—it curves north—for about a mile. You’ll see a large pond, there’s a white fence around it. On the other side is Lassiter Road. Go down Lassiter a couple of miles and you’ll see the depot.… It’s over, Bernie. I’ll have Omega at the depot at two-thirty. For Christ’s sake don’t, don’t blow it! Trust me! Don’t call anybody or do anything! Just be there!”

  Tanner hung up the telephone, opened the door and ran towards the Mercedes coupe.

  28

  He stood in the darkened doorway of a toy store. It occurred to him that Scanlan’s Mercedes was a familiar car in the Village and the Tremaynes, the Cardones, and perhaps even the Ostermans knew Scanlan was his nearest neighbor. That might be to his advantage, he considered. If the assumption were made that he’d borrowed the automobile, it would be further assumed that he remained in the area. The hunt, then, would be thorough. There was nothing to do but wait now. Wait until a little after two o’clock before driving out to the Lassiter depot.

  Wait in the center of the Village to see who came after him; who tried to stop him from making the rendezvous. Which couple? Or would it be all three? For Omega had to be frightened now. The unutterable had been said; the mystery brought out into the open.

  Omega would have to try to stop him now. If anything Fassett had said was true, that was their only course of action. To intercept him before he reached the depot.

  He counted on it. They wouldn’t stop him—he’d make sure of that, but he wanted to know in advance who the enemy was.

  He looked up and down the street. There were only four people visible. A couple walking a Dalmatian, a man emerging from the Pub, and the driver asleep in the front seat of his taxi.

  From the east end of town Tanner saw the headlights of a car approaching slowly. Soon he saw it was his own station wagon. He pressed back into the recessed, unlit doorway.

  The driver was Leila Osterman. Alone.

  Tanner’s pulse quickened. What had he done? It had never occurred to him that any of the couples would separate in a crisis! Yet Leila was alone! And there was nothing to prevent Osterman from holding his family as hostages! Osterman was one of those being protected, not one of the hunted. He could move about freely, leave the premises if he wished. Force Ali and the children to go with him if he thought it necessary!

  Leila parked the station wagon in front of the Pub, got out, and walked rapidly over to the taxi driver, shaking him awake. They talked quietly for a moment; Tanner couldn’t hear the voices. Eventually Leila turned back to the Pub and went in. Tanner remained in the doorway, fingering the dimes in his pocket, waiting for her to come out. The waiting was agony. He had to get to the phone. He had to get through to the police! He had to make sure his family was safe!

  Finally she appeared, got in the wagon, and drove off. Five or six blocks west she turned right; the car disappeared.

  Tanner raced across the street to the telephone booth. He dropped in a dime and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  Thank God! It was Ali!

  “It’s me.”

  “Where are you …”

  “Never mind that now. Everything’s fine.… Are you all right?” He listened carefully for any false note.

  “Of course, I am. We’re worried sick about you. What are you doing?”

  She sounded natural. It was all right.

  “I don’t have time. I want …”

  She interrupted him. “Leila went out looking for you. You’ve made an awful mistake.… We’ve talked. You and I were wrong, darling. Very wrong. Bernie got so worried he thought …”

  He cut her off. He didn’t have the seconds to waste; not on the Ostermans, not now. “I’ve got to get off the phone. Stay with the guards. Do as I say. Don’t let them out of your sight!”

  He hung up before she could speak. He had to reach the police. Every moment counted now.

  “Headquarters. Jenkins speaking.”

  So the one man on the Saddle Valley police force cleared for Omega was back. MacAuliff had recalled him.

  “Headquarters,” repeated the patrolman testily.

  “This is John Tanner …”

  “Jesus Christ, where have you been? We’ve been looking all over for you!”

  “You won’t find me. Not until I want you to.… Now, listen to me! The two policemen in the house—I want them to stay with my wife. She’s never to be left alone! The children either! Never! None of them can be alone with Osterman!”

  “Of course! We know that! Now, where are you? Don’t be a damned fool!”

  “I’ll phone you later. Don’t bother to trace this call. I’ll be gone.”

  He slammed down the receiver and opened the door, looking for a b
etter vantage point than the storefront. He couldn’t run unobserved from the doorway. He started back across the street. The taxi driver was asleep again.

  Suddenly, without warning, Tanner heard the roar of an engine. The blurred outline of a car without headlights sped toward him. It came out of nowhere at enormous speed; he was its target. He raced toward the opposite sidewalk only feet ahead of the rushing car. He threw himself toward the curb, twisting his body away from the automobile.

  At the same instant he felt a great blow on his left leg. There was a piercing sound of tires braking on asphalt. Tanner fell, rolling with his plunge, and saw the black car narrowly miss the Mercedes, then speed away down Valley Road.

  The pain in his leg was excruciating; his shoulder was throbbing. He hoped to Christ he could walk! He had to be able to walk!

  The cab driver was running toward him.

  “Jesus! What happened?”

  “Help me up, will you, please?”

  “Sure! Sure! You okay?… That guy must’ve had a load on! Jesus! You could’ve been killed. You want me to get a doctor?”

  “No. No, I don’t think so.”

  “I got a telephone right over there! I’ll call the cops! They’ll have a doctor here in no time!”

  “No! No, don’t! I’m all right.… Just help me walk around a bit.” It was painful for him, but Tanner found he could move. That was the important fact. The pain didn’t matter now. Nothing mattered but Omega. And Omega was out in the open!

  “I better call the police anyway,” said the driver, holding on to Tanner’s arm. “That clown should get yanked off the road.”

  “No.… I mean, I didn’t get the license. I didn’t even see what kind of car. It wouldn’t do any good.”

  “I guess not. Serve the bastard right, though, if he plows himself into a tree.”

  “Yeah. That’s right.” Tanner was walking by himself now. He’d be all right.

  The telephone at the taxi stand rang across the street.

  “There goes my phone.… You okay?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  “Saturday night. Probably the only call I’ll get on the whole shift. Only keep one cab on duty Saturday night. That’s one too many.” The driver moved away. “Good luck, buddy. You sure you don’t want a doctor?”