Ли Чайлд - The Sentinel

‘No.’

‘Did he mention having been anywhere recently?’

‘No. But he did say he’s leaving in a couple of days for a fishing cabin he has in Nova Scotia. But when he pulled out his pocketbook to pay for dinner I saw he had a Mexican passport in there. A plane ticket. And a bunch of pesos.’

Wallwork closed his notebook and set it down. ‘Are you messing with me, Mr Reacher?’

‘Why shouldn’t I be? You’re messing with me, detective. Or should I say agent?’

Wallwork didn’t respond.

‘It’s a little bit about the suit,’ Reacher said. ‘A little bit about your questions. But mainly about your shoes.’

Wallwork instinctively looked down at his feet.

‘I bet they set you back three times what Detective Goodyear’s cost,’ Reacher said. ‘And I bet a thousand bucks he wouldn’t swap. Not even if they were his size and brand new. Look at them. There’s no cushioning in the sole. No room around the toes. No thickness to the leather. No cop in the world would wear them.’

Wallwork let out a long, slow breath. ‘I knew this was a mistake. I read your service record. I wanted to be straight with you from the start but my boss wouldn’t go for it. She insisted on the subterfuge. I know it’s a stretch to ask you to trust me now, but look at it this way. I could just leave. Deny everything. Say this interview never happened. But I’m not going to do that. I’m going to tell you the truth.’

Wallwork took out his wallet, removed a laminated card, and set it on the table next to his notebook. There was a blue and white eagle in the centre. It was clutching a bunch of thirteen arrows in one talon. An olive branch with thirteen leaves and berries in the other. There was a shield with mountains on the left and water on the right. The words US Department of Homeland Security were in a ring around the outside. And beneath that, Jefferson Wallwork, Special Agent, Infrastructure Security Agency .

‘This is who I really am,’ he said.

‘So what do you really want to know?’ Reacher said.

‘The ransomware attack on the town. You heard about it?’

Reacher nodded.

‘There are two ways ransomware can get into a computer network. Over the internet. Or from something that’s physically connected. A thumb drive. A disc drive. Something like that.’

‘Rutherford didn’t do it.’

‘You know that for a fact?’

‘You’ve read my service record. I was an investigator. And an investigator develops a sense for people. I’ve talked to Rutherford. Spent time with him. He didn’t do it.’

‘Maybe you’re right. I kind of hope you are. But without proof it remains a possibility. I have to rule it in. Or rule it out.’

‘Then talk to Rutherford. Ask him to his face. Catch him in a lie, or let him clear his name.’

‘I wish I could.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘What if he is involved? We bring him in, he gets word to his buddies, they cut off negotiations with the insurance company. Lock the town’s data for ever. And crawl back into their dung heap. We’d have no chance of catching them. Or if his buddies are watching and they see us bring him in, same result.’

‘So what are you going to do?’

‘The other possibility is online transmission. We’re hunting that down, too. Fingers crossed something breaks. Meantime, I have to ask you not to mention this to Rutherford. Or anyone else. It could have extremely serious consequences if you did.’

‘Rutherford lost his job. Everyone in the town hates him. He was almost kidnapped. I’m not going to dump anything else on him.’

‘Good. Thank you. Now before I go, I have a message from Detective Goodyear. The thing about the quid pro quo for getting those men to drop the assault charges? That was his idea. I kind of piggybacked on it. And there is something he needs you to do.’

‘What?’

‘Leave town. This morning. Right now, in fact. He has a car waiting outside to take you to the highway. And he wants your word you won’t come back.’

‘What if I don’t want to leave town?’

‘Come on, Reacher. Work with me here. Yesterday you asked him for a ride.’

‘That was yesterday. The town has grown on me since then.’

‘He’s making you a fair offer, Reacher. You’ve been in town less than twenty-four hours and already you’ve been in two major brawls.’

Reacher took a moment to weigh Goodyear’s offer. There was Rutherford’s well-being to think about. And in an ideal world he would root out whoever was behind sending those thugs after him at the diner. It wasn’t fair for the foot soldiers to pay the price on their own. But on the other hand the town had no bus station. No sign of much truck traffic, either, which was the best bet when it came to hitching a ride. People were becoming increasingly leery about letting strangers into their cars, these days. Especially strangers who looked like him.

‘OK,’ Reacher said. ‘I will leave. This morning. But I have two conditions.’

‘There’s no money in this for you. Let’s be clear about that.’

‘I’m not talking about money. This is about something else. Those idiots attacked me because they thought I worked for an insurance agent. That must be the guy who gave me a ride yesterday. He’ll be staying in a hotel somewhere in town. Some New York dude. Young. In his twenties. He can’t be hard to find. I need you to make sure that with me gone they don’t transfer their attention to him. That means warning them to leave him alone. In language they can understand. You know what I mean?’

Wallwork smiled. ‘I think I do.’

‘And you need to warn him to watch his back in case whoever sent the chuckle brothers sends someone else. Someone better.’

Wallwork nodded. ‘I can do that.’

‘And then there’s Rutherford. If you need to investigate him, so be it. But you also need to keep him safe. He’s certainly not equipped to do it himself.’

The car Goodyear had arranged was waiting in the courthouse lot when Reacher stepped out through the metal door at the top of the steps. It was long and sleek and German, metallic black, and it was shining in the morning sun like it had just been detailed. Technically it was a regular sedan with four doors and a trunk, but to Reacher’s eye it looked too low at the back. It seemed to be squatting on the asphalt rather than sitting on its wheels, like it had been squashed before leaving the factory.

The driver saw Reacher emerge. He hit a button to open the trunk, climbed out, and walked stiffly to the rear of the car. He’d be in his mid to late fifties, Reacher thought, with silver hair buzzed short and the tanned, leathery skin of a guy who spent plenty of time outdoors. He wasn’t tall – maybe five ten at most – and he was wearing pale chinos and a white shirt. The shirt was tight across his shoulders, and also around his gut. It was like he’d once been in shape but was struggling to stay that way and wasn’t ready to admit he might not make it. He looked at Reacher and sneered, making plain his displeasure at the prospect of someone so unkempt being allowed to travel in his pristine vehicle.

‘I’m Marty. You’re Jack Reacher?’

Reacher nodded. ‘You can close the trunk, Marty. No luggage. Just the clothes on my back.’

This revelation didn’t make Marty appear any more enthusiastic. He shook his head, prodded a button on the edge of the trunk lid which caused it to slowly close, and stalked around to the passenger side. He opened the rear door and stood back as Reacher folded himself into the cramped space. Then he went to his side of the car and climbed in behind the wheel. He fastened his seat belt, fired up the engine, and pulled out of the lot. He turned past the front of the building, jinked left and right along a couple of streets lined with single family homes that grew larger and further apart as they went until they settled into a straight wide road with fields full of low dark green plants on either side. The position of the sun told Reacher they were heading due south.