«Yeah. I gathered it.»
«You gathered it? For heaven’s sake, these are your friends!… They’re frightened! They’re scared to death!»
«Okay. Okay. Tomorrow at the Club, I’ll tell them to relax… The San Diego vulture isn’t vulturing these days.»
«Really, that was cruel! No wonder they’re all so upset! They think you’re doing something terrible.» Ali recalled Leila’s silent figure pressed against the pantry wall, listening to Tremayne alternately pleading and threatening in the kitchen. «They’ve told the Ostermans.»
«Are you sure? How?»
«Never mind, it’s not important. They must think you’re a horror… Tomorrow morning, for heaven’s sake, tell them not to worry.»
«I said I would.»
«It explains so much. That silly yelling at the pool, the arguments … I’m really very angry with you.» But Alice Tanner wasn’t angry; the unknown was known to her now. She could cope with it. She lay back, still concerned, still worried, but with a degree of calm she hadn’t felt for several hours.
Tanner shut his eyes tight, and let his breath out. The lie had gone well. Better than he had thought it would. It was easier for him now, easier to alter the facts.
Fassett had been right; he could manage them all.
Even Ali.
21
He stood by the bedroom window. There was no moon in the sky, just clouds barely moving. He looked below at the side lawn and the woods beyond, and wondered suddenly if his eyes were playing tricks on him. There was the glow of a cigarette, distinctly seen. Someone was walking and smoking a cigarette in full view! Good Christ! he thought; did whoever it was realize that he was giving away the patrol?
And then he looked more closely. The figure was in a bathrobe. It was Osterman.
Had Bernie seen something? Heard something?
Tanner silently, rapidly went to the bedroom door and let himself out.
«I thought you might be up and around,» said Bernie sitting on a deck chair, looking at the water in the pool. «This evening was a disaster.»
«I’m not so sure about that.»
«Then I assume you’ve given up your senses of sight and sound. It was a wet night at Malibu. If we all had had knives that pool would be deep red by now.»
«Your Hollywood mentality’s working overtime.» Tanner sat down at the edge of the water.
«I’m a writer. I observe and distill.»
«I think you’re wrong,» Tanner said. «Dick was uptight about business; he told me. Joe got drunk. So what?»
Osterman swung his leg over the deck chair and sat forward. «You’re wondering what I’m doing here… It was a hunch, an instinct. I thought you might come down yourself. You didn’t look like you could sleep any more than I could.»
«You intrigue me.»
«No jokes. It’s time we talk.»
«About what?»
Osterman got up and stood above Tanner. He lit a fresh cigarette with the stub of his first. «What do you want most? I mean for yourself and your family?»
Tanner couldn’t believe he’d heard correctly. Osterman had begun with the tritest introduction imaginable. Still, he answered as though he took the question seriously.
«Peace, I guess. Peace, food, shelter, creature comforts. Are those the key words?»
«You’ve got all that. For your current purposes, anyway.»
«Then I really don’t understand you.»
«Has it ever occurred to you that you have no right to select anything anymore? Your whole life is programmed to fulfill a predetermined function; do you realize that?»
«It’s universal, I imagine. I don’t argue with it.»
«You can’t argue. The system won’t permit it. You’re trained for something; you gain experience—that’s what you do for the rest of your life. No arguments.»
«I’d be a rotten nuclear physicist; you’d be less than desirable in brain surgery…» Tanner said.
«Of course everything’s relative; I’m not talking fantasy. I’m saying that we’re controlled by forces we can’t control any longer. We’ve reached the age of specialization, and that’s the death knell. We live and work within our given circles; we’re not allowed to cross the lines, even to look around. You more than me, I’m afraid. At least I have a degree of choice as to which piece of crap I’ll handle. But crap, nevertheless… We’re stifled.»
«I hold my own; I’m not complaining. Also, my risks are pretty well advertised.»
«But you have no back-ups! Nothing! You can’t afford to stand up and say this is me! Not on the money-line, you can’t! Not with this to pay for!» Osterman swung his arm to include Tanner’s house and grounds.
«Perhaps I can’t … on the money-line. But who can?»
Osterman drew up the chair and sat down. He held Tanner’s eyes with his own and spoke softly. «There’s a way. And I’m willing to help.» He paused for a moment, as if searching for words, then started to speak again. «Johnny…» Osterman stopped once more. Tanner was afraid he wouldn’t continue, wouldn’t find the courage.
«Go on.»
«I’ve got to have certain … assurances; that’s very important!» Osterman spoke rapidly, the words tumbling forth on top of each other.
Suddenly both men’s attention was drawn to the house. The light in Janet Tanner’s bedroom had gone on.
«What’s that?» asked Bernie, not bothering to disguise his apprehension.
«Just Janet. That’s her room. We finally got it through her head that when she goes to the bathroom she should turn on the lights. Otherwise she bumps into everything and we’re all up for twenty minutes.»
And then it pierced the air. Terrifyingly, with ear-shattering horror. A child’s scream.
Tanner raced around the pool and in the kitchen door. The screams continued and lights went on in the other three bedrooms. Bernie Osterman nearly ran up Tanner’s back as the two men raced to the little girl’s room. Their speed had been such that Ali and Leila were just then coming out of their rooms.
John rushed against the door, not bothering about the doorknob. The door flew open and the four of them ran inside.
The child stood in the center of the room over the body of the Tanners’ Welsh terrier. She could not stop screaming.
The dog lay in a pool of blood.
Its head had been severed from its body.
John Tanner picked up his daughter and ran back into the hallway. His mind stopped functioning. There was only the terrifying picture of the body in the woods alternating with the sight of the small dog. And the horrible words of the man in the parking lot at the Howard Johnson’s motel.
«A severed head means a massacre.»
He had to get control, he had to.
He saw Ali whispering in Janet’s ear, rocking her back and forth. He was aware of his son crying several feet away and the outline of Bernie Osterman comforting him.
And then he heard the words from Leila.
«I’ll take Janet, Ali. Go to Johnny.»
Tanner leapt to his feet in fury. «You touch her, I’ll kill you! Do you hear me, I’ll kill you!»
«John!» Ali yelled at him in disbelief. «What are you saying?»
«She was across the hall! Can’t you see that? She was across the hall!»
Osterman rushed toward Tanner, pushing him back, pinning his shoulders against the wall. Then he slapped him hard across the face.
«That dog’s been dead for hours! Now, cut it out!»
For hours. It couldn’t be for hours. It had just happened. The lights went on and the head was severed. The little dog’s head was cut off… And Leila was across the hall. She and Bernie. Omega! A massacre!
Bernie cradled his head. «I had to hit you. You went a little nuts… Come on, now. Pull yourself together. It’s terrible, just terrible, I know. I got a daughter.»