Ли Чайлд - The Sentinel

‘Is that all?’

‘What else do I need?’ Reacher said.

The cop shrugged and started to count the cash. When he was done he handed Reacher a receipt then led the way along a corridor to a door marked Interrogation Room 2. The interior was lined with sound-muffling tiles. Reacher had seen them before. He knew they served no sonic purpose. They were part of a psychological trick designed to give suspects the illusion that they were in a place where it was safe to spill the dirt on their partners. The floor was smooth concrete and the metal table and chairs were bolted to it. The observation window was made to look like a mirror in the usual way and a panic strip ran around the walls at waist level. Reacher guessed they’d brought him there because they only had one cell area. They wouldn’t want to take the chance of him talking to the guy he’d rescued. Too much risk of them lining up their stories. And he knew they’d make him wait. An hour, at least. Maybe two. A standard tactic. Isolation breeds the urge to talk. An urge to talk can become an urge to confess. He’d used the technique himself, countless times. And this wasn’t the first time it had been used against him.

Both chairs were too close to the table to be comfortable so Reacher sat on the floor in the corner opposite the door. The clock in his head told him that an hour thirty-seven had passed by the time the door opened again. Ninety-seven minutes. The largest two-digit prime number. One of his favourites. He took that as a good sign. A less good sign was the smug grin on the face of the man who’d entered the room. He didn’t look a day over thirty and was all curly hair and rounded features. He took the chair with its back to the window and continued to smile.

‘I see you’ve made yourself at home,’ the man said. ‘Sorry to keep you waiting. Want to grab a seat? Join me? See if we can’t get this thing squared away?’

Reacher shrugged as if he didn’t care either way then stood, stretched, and wedged himself into the chair on the other side of the table.

‘I’m John Goodyear.’ The man’s grin grew even wider. ‘I’m the detective here?’

‘Jack Reacher.’

‘I know that. But what I don’t know is your deal. Why are you in my town?’

‘I don’t have a deal. I’m in this town by chance.’

‘What kind of chance? You get abducted by aliens and they drop you here at random?’

‘I hitched a ride. With a guy. This happened to be his destination. I’m not staying here. I’m going to grab some food. Some coffee. Then I’ll be gone.’

‘You were planning to stay just long enough to rip off a store, in other words?’

‘What?’

Goodyear produced Reacher’s toothbrush from his pocket and laid it on the table. ‘See, I was lying. I do know your deal. You stick this in your pocket and pretend it’s a gun. People aren’t going to fall for it every time, sure, but plenty won’t want to take the chance. Am I right?’

‘You’re an idiot.’

‘I am?’ Goodyear smiled. ‘Account for this, then.’ He placed Reacher’s roll of money on the table next to his toothbrush. ‘You have an ATM card but you didn’t get these notes from any bank. They use fresh, crisp ones. These would get stuck and gum up the machine. So, where did you get them?’

‘I earned them.’

‘How?’

‘A new venture of mine. I recently dipped a toe in the music business.’

Goodyear leaned in and lowered his voice. ‘A word to the wise, Reacher. This is the twenty-first century. Police departments have computers now, and those computers are all connected. I’m running your description across Tennessee and nine surrounding states. The results will be in soon. Very soon. In minutes, maybe. The smart thing is to get out ahead of that. Tell me yourself, right now, and I’ll help with your statement. Wait until I have a stack of computer printouts to work with and it’ll be worse for you. Much worse. Who knows what other charges might come to light? Vagrancy wouldn’t be a big surprise, for one.’

‘I didn’t see any lakes on my way into town,’ Reacher said. ‘I guess that explains it.’

‘Explains what?’

‘Why you’re trying to go fishing in here. You have no reason to suspect me of any crime. I travel light. So what? I have done for years. Ever since I left the army. And so we’re straight, you haven’t contacted any other police departments.’

‘What makes you think so?’

‘If you had, you’d already have an answer. Let’s face it, I’m a distinctive-looking guy. There’s no one else in Tennessee or anywhere else who matches my description. But that’s beside the point for two reasons. First, because I didn’t hold anywhere up. And second, you couldn’t contact any other departments. Your systems are all down.’

Goodyear’s smile faded. ‘What do you know about our systems? What did Rutherford tell you?’

‘The other guy you wrongly arrested? Nothing. I haven’t exchanged a word with him. I didn’t need to. I have a system of my own.’

‘What system?’

‘Eyeball, human, series one. Come on, detective. It’s obvious. Your officer called in my arrest on his cell phone. The terminal in his car was inoperative. The computers in the booking area were switched off. The security cameras aren’t working. And it’s not just the police department. The traffic signals in town are out. Something weird’s going on. What is it?’

Goodyear shifted in his seat but didn’t respond.

‘OK. Let’s skip the minor stuff and get to the heart of the matter. Why would someone want to kidnap Rutherford? He seemed like a pretty innocuous kind of guy.’

‘Who says anyone tried to kidnap him?’

‘I do.’

‘What would you know about kidnapping?’

‘Enough. I know an ambush when I see one. Rutherford doesn’t. The guy needs protection. You should keep him in custody for his own good and call the FBI. Kidnapping’s their jurisdiction. It wouldn’t create any extra work for you.’

‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.’ Goodyear’s grin was creeping back. ‘There’s no need to send up the federal balloon just yet. Maybe those guys you tangled with were trying to grab Rutherford. Are you a mind-reader? You don’t know what they were planning to do with him. If they were trying to grab him – and I’m not saying they were because we don’t know – they probably just wanted to take him someplace private where they could have a full and frank exchange of views. Maybe even dole out a good old-fashioned ass-kicking. If I take my detective hat off I can’t say he doesn’t deserve one. Hell, if it was an attempt at payback the whole town would be suspects. I’d need a bigger jailhouse. And even if you’re right, I say no harm, no foul. So why don’t we leave it at that?’

‘Why don’t I write a statement? You give it to the feds. Do your job. Protect and serve, or whatever you say in this state. You don’t need computers to do that.’

‘Why don’t you keep your whacked-out theories to yourself?’

‘Why are you so desperate to sweep this under the rug? What has Rutherford done?’

‘Why are you so desperate to keep it in the spotlight? Not the smartest move from your point of view, Reacher. Keep it up and I may have to take a closer look at your role. I hear you knocked one man out cold. Threw another through a car window. Assaults like that, you could be looking at jail time.’

‘I didn’t assault anyone. The sidewalk was slippery. That’s all. The first guy slid into a wall. The second tripped. He’s lucky the car window was open or he could have gotten a nasty bruise.’

‘All right. Let’s take a step back. You say these guys tried to kidnap Rutherford. Why would they do that?’