Lee Child - Running Blind

“So then she told Stanley to activate the deliveries,” she said. “And then she went back to Florida and killed Amy Callan. Then Caroline Cooke. And she knew as soon as she killed Cooke, a serial pattern would be established and the whole thing would fall into Blake’s lap at Quantico, whereupon she was right there to start misdirecting the investigation. God, I should have spotted it. She insisted on working the case. And she insisted on staying with it. It was perfect, wasn’t it? Who did the profile? She did. Who insisted on the military motive? She did. Who said we’re looking for a soldier? She did. She even hauled you in as an example of what we were looking for.”

Reacher said nothing. Harper stared at the door.

“But Alison was the only real target,” she said. “And that’s why she dropped the interval, I guess. Because she was all hyped up and excited and couldn’t wait.”

“She made us do her surveillance,” Reacher said. “She asked us about Alison’s place, remember? She was abandoning the interval, so she didn’t have time for surveillance, so she got us to do it for her. Remember that? Is it isolated? Is the door locked? We did her scouting for her.”

Harper closed her eyes. “She was off duty the day Alison died. It was Sunday. Quantico was quiet. I never even thought about it. She knew nobody would think about it, on a Sunday. She knows nobody’s there.”

“She’s very smart,” Reacher said.

Harper nodded. Opened her eyes. “And I guess it explains the lack of evidence everywhere. She knows what we look for at the scene.”

“And she’s a woman,” Reacher said. “The investigators were looking for a man, because she told them to. Same with the rental cars. She knew if anybody checked they would come back with a woman’s name, which would be ignored. Which is exactly what happened. ”

“But what name?” Harper asked. “She’d need ID for the rental.”

“For the airlines, too,” Reacher said. “But I’m sure she’s got a drawerful of ID. From women the Bureau has sent to prison. You’ll be able to match them up, relevant dates and places. Innocent feminine names, meaning nothing.”

Harper looked rueful. “I passed that message on, remember? From Hertz? It was nothing , I said, just some woman on business .”

Reacher nodded. “She’s very smart. I think she even dressed the same as the victims, while she was in their houses. She watched them, and if they wore a cotton dress, she wore a cotton dress. If they wore pants, she wore pants. Like she’s in here now wearing an old sweater like Scimeca’s. So any fibers she leaves behind will be discounted. She asked us what Alison was wearing, remember? No time for surveillance, so she asked us, all innocent and roundabout. Is she still all sporty and tanned and dressed like a cowboy? We said yes, she is, so no doubt she went in there wearing denim jeans and boots.”

“And she scratched her face because she hated her.”

Reacher shook his head.

“No, I’m afraid that was my fault,” he said. “I kept questioning the lack of violence, right in front of her. So she supplied some, the very next time around. I should have kept my big mouth shut.”

Harper said nothing.

“And that’s how I knew she’d be here,” Reacher said. “Because she was trying to imitate a guy like me, all along. And I said I would go for Scimeca next. So I knew she’d be here, sooner or later. But she was a little quicker than I thought. And we were a little slower. She didn’t waste any time, did she?”

Harper glanced at the bathroom door. Shuddered. Glanced away.

“How did you figure the hypnotism thing?” she asked.

“Like everything else,” Reacher said. “I thought I knew who, and why, but the how part looked absolutely impossible, so I just went around and around. That’s why I wanted to get out of Quantico. I wanted space to think. It took me a real long time. But eventually, it was the only possibility. It explained everything. The passivity, the obedience, the acquiescence. And why the scenes looked the way they did. Looked like the guy never laid a finger on them, because she never did lay a finger on them. She just reestablished the spell and told them what to do, step by step. They did everything themselves. Right down to filling their own tubs, swallowing their own tongues. The only thing she did herself was what I did, pull their tongues back up afterward, so the pathologists wouldn’t catch on.”

“But how did you know about the tongues?”

He was quiet for a beat.

“From kissing you,” he said.

“Kissing me?”

He smiled. “You’ve got a great tongue, Harper. It set me thinking. Tongues were the only things which fitted Stavely’s autopsy findings. But I figured there was no way to make somebody swallow their own tongue, until I realized it was Lamarr, and she was a hypnotist, and then the whole thing fell together.”

Harper was silent.

“And you know what?” Reacher said.

“What?”

“The very first night I met her, she wanted to hypnotize me. For deep background, she said, but obviously she was going to tell me to look convincing and get absolutely nowhere. Blake pestered me to do it, and I said no, because she’ll make me run naked down Fifth Avenue. Like a joke. But it was awful near the truth.”

Harper shivered. “Where would she have stopped?”

“Maybe one more,” Reacher said. “Six would be enough. Six would have done it. Sand on the beach.”

She stepped over and sat down next to him on the bed. Stared down at Scimeca, inert beneath the bathrobe.

“Will she be OK?” she asked.

“Probably,” Reacher said. “She’s tough as hell.”

Harper glanced at him. His shirt and pants were wet and smeared. His arms were green, right up to the shoulders.

“You’re all wet,” she said, absently.

“So are you,” he said. “Wetter than me.”

She nodded. Went quiet.

“We’re both wet,” she said. “But at least now it’s over.”

He said nothing.

“Here’s to success,” she said.

She leaned over and threaded her damp arms around his neck. Pulled him close and kissed him, hard on the mouth. He felt her tongue on his lips. Then it stopped moving. She pulled away.

“Feels weird,” she said. “I won’t be able to do this ever again without thinking bad things about tongues.”

He said nothing.

“Horrible way to die,” she said.

He looked at her and smiled.

“You fall off a horse, you’ve got to get right back on,” he said.

He leaned toward her and cupped a hand behind her head and pulled her close. Kissed her on the mouth. She was completely still for a beat. Then she got back into it. She held the kiss for a long moment. Then she pulled away, smiling shyly.

“Go wake her up,” Reacher said. “Make the arrest, start the questioning. You’ve got a big case ahead of you.”

“She won’t talk to me.”

He looked down at Scimeca’s sleeping face.

“She will,” he said. “Tell her the first time she clams up, I’ll break her arm. The second time, I’ll grind the bones together.”

Harper shivered again and turned away. Stood up and stepped out to the bathroom. The bedroom went quiet. No sound anywhere, just Scimeca’s breathing, steady but noisy, like a machine. Then Harper came back in, a long moment later, white in the face.

“She won’t talk to me,” she said.

“How do you know? You didn’t ask her anything.”

“Because she’s dead.”

Silence.

“You killed her.”

Silence.

“When you hit her.”

Silence.

“You broke her neck.”

Then there were loud footsteps in the hallway below them. Then they were on the stairs. Then they were in the corridor outside the bedroom. The cop stepped into the room. He was holding his mug. He had retrieved it from the porch railing. He stared.