«Everything okay?» asked Grover.
«On schedule. If Tremayne doesn’t get too drunk at the Biltmore.»
«If he does,» said Cole, his attention on a New Jersey road map, «a friendly, bribable cop will correct the situation. He’ll get home.»
«Have you got men on both sides of the bridge?»
«And the tunnels. He sometimes takes the Lincoln Tunnel and drives up the Parkway. All in radio contact.» Cole was making marks on a piece of tracing paper placed over the map.
The telephone rang. Grover crossed to the bedside table to pick it up.
«Grover here… Oh? Yes, we’ll double check but I’m sure we would’ve heard if he had… Don’t worry about it. All right. Keep in touch.» Grover replaced the receiver and stood by the telephone.
«What’s the matter?» Fassett removed his white Palm Beach jacket and began rolling up his sleeves.
«That was Los Angeles logistics. Between the time Osterman left the studio and was picked up on Mulholland, they lost him for about twenty minutes. They’re concerned that he may have reached Cardone or Tremayne.»
Cole looked up from the table. «Around one o’clock our time—ten in California?»
«Yes.»
«Negative. Cardone was in his car and Tremayne on the streets. Neither could be reached…»
«I see what they mean, though,» interrupted Fassett. «Tremayne didn’t waste any time this noon trying to get to Cardone.»
«We calculated that, Larry,» said Cole. «We would have intercepted both of them if a meeting had been scheduled.»
«Yes, I know. Risky, though.»
Cole laughed as he picked up the tracing papers. «You plan—we’ll control. Here’s every back road link to ‘Leather.’»
«We’ve got them.»
«George forgot to bring up a copy, and the others are with the men. A command post should always have a map of the field.»
«Mea culpa. I was in briefing until two this morning and had to get the shuttle at six-thirty. I also forgot my razor and toothbrush and God knows what else.»
The telephone rang once again and Grover reached down for it.
«… I see … wait a minute.» He held the phone away from his ear and looked over at Laurence Fassett. «Our second chauffeur had a run-in with Cardone …»
«Oh, Christ! Nothing rough, I hope.»
«No, no. The hot-tempered All-American tried to get out of the car and start a fight. Nothing happened.»
«Tell him to head back to Washington. Get out of the area.»
«Go back to D.C., Jim… Sure, you might as well. Okay. See you at camp.» Grover replaced the receiver and walked back to the card table.
«What’s Jim going to do ‘just as well’?» asked Fassett.
«Drop off the Rolls in Maryland. He thinks Cardone got the license number.»
«Good. And the Caesar family?»
«Primed beautifully,» interrupted Cole, «They can’t wait to hear from Guiseppe Ambruzzio Cardione. Like father, unlike son.»
«What’s that mean?» Grover held his lighter under his cigarette.
«Old man Caesar made a dozen fortunes out of the rackets. His oldest son is with the Attorney General’s office and an absolute fanatic about the Mafia.»
«Washing away family sins?»
«Something like that.»
Fassett walked over to the window and looked down at the long expanse of Central Park South. When he spoke he did so quietly, but the satisfaction in his voice made his companions smile.
«It’s all there now. Each one is jolted. They’re all confused and frightened. None of them know what to do or whom to talk to. Now we sit and watch. We’ll give them a rest for twenty-four hours. A blackout… And Omega has no choice. Omega has to make its move.»
13
Wednesday—10:15 A.M.
It was ten-fifteen before Tanner reached his office. He had found it nearly impossible to leave home, but he knew Fassett was right. He sat down and glanced perfunctorily at his mail and messages. Everyone wanted a conference. No one wanted to make a single decision without his say-so.
Corporate musical chairs. The network sub-brass band.
He picked up the phone and dialed New Jersey.
«Hello, Ali?»
«Hi, hon. Did you forget something?»
«No… No. Just felt lonely. What are you doing?»
Inside 22 Orchard Place, Saddle Valley, New Jersey, Alice Tanner smiled and felt warm. «What am I doing?… Well, as per the great Khan’s orders, I’m overseeing your son’s cleaning out the basement. And as the great Khan also instructed, his daughter is spending a hot July morning on her remedial reading. How else could she get into Berkeley by the time she’s twelve?»
Tanner caught the complaint. When she was a young girl, his wife’s summers were lonely and terrifying. Ali wanted them to be perfect for Janet.
«Well, don’t overdo it. Have some kids over.»
«I might at that. But Nancy Loomis phoned and asked if Janet could go there for lunch …»
«Ali …» Tanner switched the phone to his left hand. «I’d rather cool it with the Loomises for a few days …»
«What do you mean?»
John remembered Jim Loomis from the daily eight-twenty express. «Jim’s trying to boilerplate some market stuff. He’s got a lot of fellows on the train to go along with him. If I can avoid him till next week I’m off the hook.»
«What does Joe say?»
«He doesn’t know about it. Loomis doesn’t want Joe to know. Rival houses, I guess.»
«I don’t see that Janet’s going to lunch has anything…»
«Just saves embarrassment. We don’t have the kind of money he’s looking for.»
«Amen to that!»
«And … do me a favor. Stay near the phone today.»
Alice Tanner’s eyes shifted to the telephone in her hand. «Why?»
«I can’t go into it, but I may have an important call… What we’re always talking about…»
Alice Tanner immediately, unconsciously lowered her voice as she smiled. «Someone’s offered you something!»
«Could be. They’re going to call at home to set up a lunch.»
«Oh, John. That’s exciting!»
«It … could be interesting.» He suddenly found it painful to talk to her. «Speak to you later.»
«Sounds marvelous, darling. I’ll turn up the bell. It’ll be heard in New York.»
«I’ll call you later.»
«Tell me the details then.»
Tanner placed the receiver slowly in its cradle. The lies had begun … but his family would stay home.
He knew he had to turn his mind to Standard Mutual problems. Fassett had warned him. There could be no break in his normal pattern, and normalcy for any network news director was a condition close to hypertension. Tanner’s mark at Standard was his control of potential difficulties. If there was ever a time in his professional life to avoid chaos, it was now.
He picked up his telephone. «Norma. I’ll read out the list of those I’ll see this morning, and you call them. Tell everyone I want the meetings quick and don’t let anyone run over fifteen minutes unless I say otherwise. It would help if all problems and proposals were reduced to written half-pages. Pass the word. I’ve got a lot to catch up on.»
He wasn’t free again until 12:30. Then he closed his office door and called his wife.
There was no answer.
He let the phone ring for nearly two minutes, until the spaces between the rings seemed to grow longer and longer.
No answer. No answer at the telephone—the telephone whose bell was turned up so loud it would be heard in New York.