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He would let Ali think it was the flu. He’d be in touch with his office by phone, but he would stay with his family.

His telephone rang regularly; questions from the office. Ali and the children complained that the constant ringing of the telephone was enough to drive them crazy, so the three of them retreated to the pool. Except for a few clouds around noon, the day was hot—perfect for swimming. The white patrol car passed the house a number of times. On Sunday Tanner had been concerned over it. Now he was grateful. Fassett was keeping his word.

The telephone rang again. «Yes, Charlie.» He didn’t bother to say hello.

«Mr. Tanner?»

«Oh, sorry. Yes, this is John Tanner.»

«Fassett calling…»

«Wait a minute!» Tanner looked out his study window to make sure Ali and the children were still at the pool. They were.

«What is it, Fassett? Have you people started?»

«Can you talk?»

«Yes… Have you found out anything? Has any of them called the police?»

«Negative. If that happens we’ll contact you immediately. That’s not why I’m calling you… You’ve done something extremely foolish. I can’t emphasize how careless.»

«What are you talking about?»

«You didn’t go in to your office this morning…»

«I certainly did not!»

«… But there must be no break from your normal routine. No altering of your usual schedule. That’s terribly important. For your own protection, you must follow our instructions.»

«That’s asking too much!»

«Listen to me. Your wife and children are at this moment in the swimming pool behind your house. Your son, Raymond, did not go to his tennis lesson…»

«I told him not to. I told him to do some work on the lawn.»

«Your wife had groceries delivered, which is not customary.»

«I explained that I might need her to take notes for me. She’s done that before…»

«The main point is you’re not doing what you usually do. It’s vital that you keep to your day-to-day routine. I can’t stress it enough. You cannot, you must not call attention to yourself.»

«I’m watching out for my family. I think that’s understandable.»

«So are we. Far more effectively than you can. None of them have been out of our sight for a single minute. I’ll amend that. Neither have you. You walked out into your driveway twice: at nine-thirty-two and eleven-twenty. Your daughter had a friend over for lunch, one Joan Loomis, aged eight. We’re extremely thorough and extremely careful.»

The news director reached for a cigarette and lit it with the desk lighter. «Guess you are.»

«There’s nothing for you to worry about. There’s no danger to you or your family.»

«Probably not. I think you’re all crazy. None of them have anything to do with this Omega.»

«That’s possible. But if we’re right, they won’t take any action without checking further. They won’t panic, too much is at stake. And when they do check further they’ll immediately suspect each other. For heaven’s sake, don’t give them any reason not to. Go about your business as if nothing happened. It’s vital. No one could harm your family. They couldn’t get near enough.»

«All right. You’re convincing. But I went out to the driveway three times this morning, not twice.»

«No, you didn’t. The third time you remained in the garage doorway. You didn’t physically walk out onto the driveway. And it wasn’t morning, it was twelve-fourteen.» Fassett laughed. «Feeling better now?»

«I’d be an awful liar if I didn’t admit it.»

«You’re not a liar. Not generally at any rate. Your file makes that very clear.» Fassett laughed again. Even Tanner smiled.

«You’re really too much, you know that. I’ll go into the office tomorrow.»

«When it’s all over, you and your wife will have to get together with me and mine for an evening. I think they’d like each other. Drinks will be on me. Dewars White Label with a tall soda for you and Scotch on the rocks with a pinch of water for your wife.»

«Good God! If you start describing our sex life…»

«Let me check the index…»

«Go to hell,» Tanner laughed, relieved. «We’ll take you up on that evening.»

«You should. We’d get along.»

«Name the date, we’ll be there.»

«I’ll make a point of it on Monday. Be in touch. You have the emergency number for after hours. Don’t hesitate to call.»

«I won’t. I’ll be in the office tomorrow.»

«Fine. And do me a favor. Don’t plan any more programs on us. My employers didn’t like the last one.»

Tanner remembered. The program Fassett referred to had been a Woodward Show. The writers had come up with the phrase Caught in the Act for the letters C.I.A. It was a year ago, almost to the week. «It wasn’t bad.»

«It wasn’t good. I saw that one. I wanted to laugh my head off but I couldn’t. I was with the Director, in his living room. Caught in the Act! Jesus!» Fassett laughed again, putting Tanner more at ease than the news director thought possible.

«Thanks, Fassett.»

Tanner put down the telephone and crushed out his cigarette. Fassett was a thorough professional, he thought. And Fassett was right. No one could get near Ali and the kids. For all he knew, the C.I.A. had snipers strapped to the trees. What was left for him to do was precisely what Fassett said: nothing. Just go about business as usual. No break from routine, no deviation from the norm. He felt he could play the role now. The protection was everything Fassett said it would be.

However, one thought bothered him, and the more he considered it, the more it disturbed him.

It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon. The Tremaynes, the Cardones and the Ostermans had all been contacted by now. The harassment had begun. Yet none had seen fit to call the police. Or even to call him.

Was it really possible that six people who had been his friends for years were not what they seemed to be?

10

Tuesday—9:40 A.M. California Time

The Karmann Ghia swung off Wilshire Boulevard onto Beverly Drive. Osterman knew he was exceeding the Los Angeles speed limit; it seemed completely unimportant. He couldn’t think about anything except the warning he had just received. He had to get home to Leila. They had to talk seriously now. They had to decide what to do.

Why had they been singled out?

Who was warning them? And about what?

Leila was probably right. Tanner was their friend, as good a friend as they’d ever known. But he was also a man who valued reserve in friendship. There were areas one never touched. There was always the slight quality of distance, a thin glass wall that came between Tanner and any other human being. Except of course, Ali.

And Tanner now possessed information that touched them somehow, meant something to him and Leila. And Zurich was part of it. But, Christ! How?

Osterman reached the foot of the Mulholland hill and drove rapidly to the top, past the huge, early-pastiche mansions that were peopled by those near, or once near, the top of the Hollywood spectrum. A few of the houses were going to seed, decaying relics of past extravagance. The speed limit in the Mulholland section was thirty. Osterman’s speedometer read fifty-one. He pressed down on the accelerator. He had decided what to do. He would pick up Leila and head for Malibu. The two of them would find a phone booth on the highway and call Tremayne and Cardone.

The mournful wail of the siren, growing louder, jarred him. It was a sound effect in this town of devices. It wasn’t real, nothing here was real. It couldn’t be for him.

But, of course, it was.

«Officer, I’m a resident here. Osterman. Bernard Osterman. 260 Caliente. Surely you know my house.» It was a statement made positively. Caliente was impressive acreage.