Ли Чайлд - The Sentinel

‘What do you think?’ Rutherford said.

‘I don’t know,’ Reacher said. ‘Is it a home? Or a showroom?’

‘A home. It’s been Mitch’s for years. Although he does have a couple of other ones too. And it hasn’t always looked like this. He had it completely remodelled last year. He has some really cool things now. See this?’ Rutherford pointed at the egg. ‘It came from a lightbulb factory. In Germany. They used it to test the vacuum seal inside the glass bulbs. Now Mitch uses it for storing his whisky.’ Rutherford walked across and opened a door set into the front of the thing. Inside were four crystal decanters full of golden liquid and eight stubby glasses. ‘Think twice before helping yourself, though. The cheapest kind costs twenty grand a bottle.’

‘I’ll stick to coffee,’ Reacher said. ‘Assuming your friend has anything so pedestrian.’

‘Me too,’ Rutherford said. He crossed to the kitchen area and opened a wall cupboard containing a vast shiny machine bristling with knobs and gauges and levers. ‘If I can figure out how this thing works.’

Reacher moved to the centre of the room. ‘I thought you said you had the keys so you could water your friend’s plants?’

‘Right.’ Rutherford nodded.

‘What happened? Did you forget? Have they died?’

‘No. Of course not. Mitch would kill me. They’re over there on the shelf. Good as new.’ Rutherford pointed to a row of three miniature pots on the shelf to the left of the living area window. Each one contained a shrivelled stalk, like the trunk of a tiny decaying tree.

‘Those things are alive?’ Reacher said.

‘The outer pair are over a hundred years old. The other one is younger. Mitch said it’s about sixty, I think. They come from a forest in the foothills of Mount Fuji, Japan. It’s the only place in the world they grow. The same family has tended to them for generations.’

‘Your friend has interesting taste. What does he do?’

‘He’s in IT, like me.’ Rutherford paused and a look of genuine sadness settled over his face. ‘Only his million-dollar idea actually worked. Unlike the piece of trash I pinned my hopes on.’

Reacher took a seat on one of the couches and waited for Rutherford to finish his battle of wits with the coffee machine. ‘Rusty, we need to talk about something serious now. The people who are coming after you took the bait about you driving to the airport. They showed up in your garage. But they passed on the opportunity to ambush you. That was the correct choice in the circumstances. They planted a tracking device on your car instead.’

‘But I’m not going to the airport.’ Rutherford placed the mugs on the coffee table and sat on the other couch. ‘What will they do when my car doesn’t move?’

‘I don’t know. That depends on how patient they are. And on the urgency of whatever problem they’re trying to solve. My guess is that it won’t be much longer before they come in and get you. But we could avoid that if we can figure out what they want. I need you to focus all your attention on answering that question.’

Rutherford shook his head. ‘I already told you. I don’t have anything that anyone could want.’

‘There are two possible scenarios here,’ Reacher said. ‘You have this thing and don’t realize it. Or they believe you have it but you don’t. Option one we can work with. Option two presents more of a challenge. So here’s what I want you to do. Finish your coffee. Then lie back. Close your eyes. And pick a day. Say, the Monday of the week before the ransomware thing began. Tell me everything you did from the moment your eyes opened in the morning until you fell asleep that night. Every single detail. However trivial. You never know what might trigger a connection.’

‘OK.’ Rutherford took a swig of coffee then slipped off his shoes and swung his feet up on to the cushion. ‘I’ll try. But I’m not sure it’ll help.’

‘You need to focus,’ Reacher said. ‘No distractions, so switch off your phone.’

Rutherford’s phone started to ring.

‘Ignore it,’ Reacher said.

Rutherford was already pulling it out of his pocket. He checked the screen and held it up for Reacher to see. It read Doorman .

‘I told him not to disturb you,’ Reacher said. ‘Ignore it.’

‘I can’t. What if it’s those guys coming up to get me? You said they will. What if he’s trying to warn me? I have to check.’

Rutherford hit the speaker button and placed the phone on the table.

‘Mr Rutherford? I’m sorry to disturb you, sir. I know you’re not feeling well. But I have to give you a heads-up. Someone’s here to see you. I told her no but she marched right by me. She’s on her way up. And man, she’s pissed that I tried to stop her.’

Rutherford hung up then crossed to the door and pressed his eye to the peephole. ‘No one’s there. Not yet. It must be one of the women from yesterday. The one who was watching the building. She must have found out which is my apartment. She’s coming to get me. What are we going to do?’

‘We don’t have to do anything,’ Reacher said. ‘No one knows we’re here.’

‘That’s right.’ Rutherford took a deep breath. ‘We could lie low. Wait for her to go.’

‘We could. Avoid a confrontation in a confined public space. And inject some bad intelligence into their decision-making process. Two good outcomes with zero effort on our part.’

‘OK. Let’s do that.’ Rutherford turned away from the door and a moment later his face creased with alarm. ‘Wait. What if she breaks in? She could pick the locks.’

‘Also good. We could join her. Ask her some questions. And afterwards we’d have the perfect cover. You came back from dropping some trash down the garbage chute and found an intruder in your apartment. She tried to run. She slipped. And she hit her head. Tragic, but the kind of thing that can happen when you choose a life of crime.’

‘We couldn’t– Shhh. Someone’s coming.’ Rutherford pressed his eye back to the peephole. ‘It’s– Oh my goodness.’

He opened the door and stepped out, still in his socks. Reacher saw a woman on the other side of the corridor. She was facing away, ready to ring Rutherford’s doorbell. She had the same colour hair as the Toyota driver. It was the same length. She was the same height. But her clothes were different. She was wearing a pale grey suit. And Reacher didn’t recognize her face.

‘Sarah!’ Rutherford held his arms out wide. ‘So good to see you. What are you doing here?’

‘I was worried about you.’ The woman pulled Rutherford into a hug so tight it looked like she was trying to break his back. ‘You stopped calling. You didn’t answer your phone. I left you all kinds of messages. Then I heard what happened with your job.’

‘I didn’t get any messages. You must have been calling my work phone. The assholes took it when they fired me. I’m sorry. I should have told you. I should have called.’

‘Are you OK?’

‘I am. I was down for a while but I’m doing a lot better now.’

‘Good. Because there’s something we need to talk about. It could be huge. ‘The woman’s giant purse was slipping off her shoulder and as she heaved it back into place her head turned and she spotted Reacher standing in the doorway opposite. ‘Oh. Hello. You must be Mitch. I’ve heard a lot about you.’

‘Actually, no,’ Rutherford said. ‘Mitch is away. This is Jack Reacher. Reacher, this is my friend Sarah Sands. The one I told you about. Sarah was working on Cerberus with me.’

Rutherford made another pot of coffee while Sands fired up her laptop and listened as Reacher ran through a summary of events since he’d arrived in town.