Lee Child - Killing Floor

“I don’t know,” I said. “The cops didn’t think to look. They saw a load of sealed-up air conditioner cartons, brand-new, serial numbers and everything, and they just assumed it was kosher. The air conditioner cartons were damn good cover. Very plausible product to be hauling south. Nobody would be suspicious of brand-new air conditioners heading south, right?”

“But they stopped a year ago?” he said.

“Correct,” I said. “They knew the Coast Guard thing was coming, so they got as much out as they could ahead of time. Remember the double runs in Gray’s notes? Then they stopped altogether, a year ago. Because they felt just as vulnerable smuggling outward past the Coast Guard as we figured they’d feel smuggling inward.”

Finlay nodded. Looked displeased with himself.

“We missed that,” he said.

“We missed a lot of things,” I said. “They fired Sherman Stoller because they didn’t need him anymore. They decided just to sit on the stuff and wait for the Coast Guard thing to stop. That’s why they’re vulnerable right now. That’s why they’re panicking, Finlay. It’s not the last remains of a stockpile they’ve got in there until Sunday. It’s the whole damn thing.”

FINLAY STOOD GUARD AT THE OFFICE DOOR. I SAT AT THE rosewood desk and called Columbia University in New York. The number reached the modern history department. The early part of the call was very easy. I got a helpful woman in their administrative office. I asked if they had a professor with the initials K.K. Straightaway she identified a guy called Kelvin Kelstein. Been there many years. Sounded like he was a very eminent type of a guy. Then the call got very difficult. I asked if he would come to the phone. The woman said no he wouldn’t. He was very busy and could not be disturbed again.

“Again?” I said. “Who’s been disturbing him already?”

“Two detectives from Atlanta, Georgia,” she said.

“When was this?” I asked her.

“This morning,” she said. “They came in here asking for him and they wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Can you describe these two men to me?” I asked her.

There was a pause as she tried to remember.

“They were Hispanic,” she said. “I don’t recall any details. The one who did the talking was very neat, very polite. Unremarkable, really, I’m afraid.”

“Have they met with him yet?” I asked her.

“They made a one o’clock appointment,” she said. “They’re taking him to lunch somewhere, I believe.”

I held the phone tighter.

“OK,” I said. “This is very important. Did they ask for him by name? Or by the initials K.K.? Like I just did?”

“They asked exactly the same question you did,” she said. “They asked if we had any faculty with those initials.”

“Listen to me,” I said. “Listen very carefully. I want you to go see Professor Kelstein. Right now. Interrupt him, whatever he’s doing. Tell him this is life or death. Tell him those Atlanta detectives are bogus. They were at Princeton last night and they murdered Professor Walter Bartholomew.”

“Are you kidding?” the woman said. Almost a scream.

“This is for real,” I said. “My name is Jack Reacher. I believe Kelstein had been in touch with my brother, Joe Reacher, from the Treasury Department. Tell him my brother was murdered also.”

The woman paused again. Swallowed. Then she came back, calm.

“What should I tell Professor Kelstein to do?” she said.

“Two things,” I said. “First, he must not, repeat, must not meet with the two Hispanic men from Atlanta. At any time. Got that?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Good,” I said. “Second, he must go right now to the campus security office. Right now, OK? He must wait there for me. I’ll be there in about three hours. Kelstein must sit in the security office and wait for me with a guard right next to him until I get there. Can you make absolutely sure he does that?”

“Yes,” she said again.

“Tell him to call Princeton from the security office,” I said. “Tell him to ask after Bartholomew. That should convince him.”

“Yes,” the woman said again. “I’ll make sure he does what you say.”

“And give my name to your security desk,” I said. “I don’t want any problem getting in when I arrive. Professor Kelstein can ID me. Tell him I look like my brother.”

I hung up. Shouted across the room to Finlay.

“They’ve got Joe’s list,” I said. “They’ve got two guys up in New York. One of them is the same guy who got Joe’s briefcase. Neat, polite guy. They’ve got the list.”

“But how?” he said. “The list wasn’t in the briefcase.”

A clang of fear hit me. I knew how. It was staring me in the face.

“Baker,” I said. “Baker’s inside the scam. He made an extra Xerox copy. You sent him to copy Joe’s list. He made two copies and gave one to Teale.”

“Christ,” Finlay said. “Are you sure?”

I nodded.

“There were other indications,” I said. “Teale’s pulled a bluff. We figured everybody in the department was clean. But he was just keeping them hidden. So now we don’t know who the hell is involved and who the hell isn’t. We’ve got to get out of here, right now. Let’s go.”

We ran out of the office. Through the squad room. Out through the big plate-glass doors and into Finlay’s car.

“Where to?” he said.

“Atlanta,” I told him. “The airport. I’ve got to get to New York.”

He started up and headed out north along the county road.

“Baker was in it from the start,” I said. “It was staring me in the face.”

I WENT THROUGH IT WITH HIM AS HE DROVE. STEP BY STEP. Last Friday I had been alone in the small white interview room at the station house with Baker. I had held out my wrists to him. He’d removed my handcuffs. He’d taken the cuffs off a guy he was supposed to believe was a murderer. A murderer who had pulped his victim’s body. He was willing to put himself alone in a room with such a guy. Then later I had called him over and made him escort me to the bathroom. He had been sloppy and careless. I’d had opportunities to disarm him and escape. I’d taken it as a sign he’d listened to me answering Finlay’s questions and slowly become convinced I was innocent.

But he’d always known I was innocent. He knew exactly who was innocent and exactly who wasn’t. That’s why he had been so casual. He knew I was just a convenient fall guy. He knew I was just an innocent passerby. Who worries about taking the cuffs off an innocent passerby? Who takes a whole lot of precautions escorting an innocent passerby to the bathroom?

And he had brought Hubble in for questioning. I’d noticed his body language. He was all twisted up with conflict. I had figured he was feeling awkward because Hubble was Stevenson’s buddy and his relative by marriage. But it wasn’t that. He was all twisted up because he was caught in a trap. He knew bringing Hubble in was a disaster. But he couldn’t disobey Finlay without alerting him. He was trapped. Damned if he did, damned if he didn’t.

And there had been a deliberate attempt to conceal Joe’s identity. Baker had deliberately screwed up the prints thing with the computer so that Joe would remain unidentified. He knew Joe was a government investigator. He knew Joe’s prints would be in the Washington database. So he tried to make damn sure they didn’t get matched. But he had blown his cover by announcing the null result far too early. It was inexperience. He’d always left the technical work to Roscoe. So he didn’t know the system. But I hadn’t put two and two together. I had been too overwhelmed when the second attempt with the prints had brought back my brother’s name.