The Sentinel (Jack Reacher)

ELEVEN

Reacher left Rutherford in the car like he was a kid. Or a dog.

It wasn’t a decision Reacher was entirely happy with. He knew there were risks. He’d heard there were laws against leaving kids in cars. He wasn’t sure about dogs. But the risks Reacher was worried about were different ones, anyway. He wasn’t concerned about overheating or dehydration or the vehicle getting stolen with Rutherford strapped inside it. He was thinking about the odds of a guy like Marty passing by. Spotting Rutherford. Pulling out a burner phone. Summoning the cavalry. Or of Detective Goodyear recognizing his friend’s car and starting in with questions that Reacher wasn’t ready to answer. Not yet. Which was the whole point of his being there. Risk versus reward. The opportunity to test a theory. To join some vital dots. Or to find out he was wrong.

Either way, just as valuable.

Either way, better to hurry.

Officer Rule was still behind the counter when Reacher got to the basement. She looked up from a form she was working on and Reacher swore he saw her eyes brighten when she spotted him. Or perhaps he just hoped they did.

‘Mr Reacher,’ she said. ‘Any luck finding Rusty Rutherford?’

‘False alarm,’ Reacher said. ‘Turns out he’s fine. I could use your help with something else, though.’

Officer Rule folded her arms. ‘Who’s missing this time?’

‘No one. It’s about a recent case. A murder. A journalist who was found cut into pieces. I read about it in the paper. I need to know one thing. When the parts of her body were dumped, were they stuffed into suitcases?’

All traces of good humour disappeared from Officer Rule’s face. ‘That’s an awful case. I can’t discuss it. You know that. Detective Goodyear’s handling it. You can ask him. But he won’t tell you either.’

‘Is he here?’

‘Not right now.’

‘I only have the one question. It’s a yes or no answer. Please?’

‘You know I can’t.’

‘Would you if you could?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Then how about a trade? I scratch your back. You scratch mine.’

Officer Rule paused. ‘What have you got?’

‘There’s a woman who works at the diner opposite Rutherford’s building. Holly. She has a boyfriend—’

‘Who’s an air thief she’s so embarrassed about she won’t even admit he exists to her co-workers?’ Officer Rule shook her head. ‘They know anyway, of course. Makeup can only cover so many bruises. But if you’re trying to tempt me with a domestic violence beef, you can forget it. I’ve been down that road with Holly before. It goes nowhere. She won’t cooperate.’

‘What if you could put an end to the domestic violence without needing Holly’s help? And put a major feather in your cap at the same time.’

‘How could I do that?’

‘How long has the boyfriend been on the scene?’

‘A couple of years, at least.’ Officer Rule frowned. ‘I don’t know exactly when he showed up. I’m just going by when I first saw bruises and started asking questions.’

‘Did you run the guy’s name through the computer?’

‘Of course. He came back clean.’

‘Are you sure it was his real name?’

Officer Rule shrugged.

‘Did you run his prints?’ Reacher said.

‘No. I couldn’t arrest him. Holly wouldn’t press charges and there was no other evidence it was him who hit her.’

‘Has he been arrested for anything else in the last couple of weeks? Since the computers have been locked down?’

‘I don’t know. Without the computers it’s not as easy to keep up with who’s doing what as it normally is. Why?’

‘I think you should check,’ Reacher said. ‘I think you’ll find he was arrested recently. And I think there’s another reason Holly keeps him secret.’

‘Like what?’

‘Could you do some digging and find out if he gave you his real name? And if he has any aliases?’

‘Maybe. If I had a good reason to.’

‘Do you have any friends you could call in other police departments? Ones with working computers who could run whatever names you find?’

‘Maybe. If you tell me why.’

‘The guy who gave me a ride into town yesterday is an insurance agent. He’s here to negotiate the ransom that needs to be paid so that you can get your computers back up. Holly saw me get out of his car. Then she eavesdropped on my conversation with Rutherford at the diner and got the wrong end of the stick. She thought I worked for the insurance company too, which is why she called in those goons to tell me to back off. The question is, why would she do that? Who could benefit from keeping the computers offline?’

Officer Rule frowned. Then blinked. Then her smile returned brighter than ever. ‘Someone who’s wanted in another jurisdiction.’

‘I’d go one further,’ Reacher said. ‘I’d guess someone wanted in another jurisdiction for something serious. Something where the statute of limitations is about to time out.’

‘Which is why he’s been lying low for so long, sponging off poor Holly. He slipped, but at just the right time – for him – because our routine computer checks were impossible. Why is it that assholes have all the luck?’

‘Maybe his luck’s about to change.’

‘I’d happily change it for him. If those phone calls pan out. And if I could find him.’

‘Maybe, acting on a hunch, you could take a look in Holly’s back yard. Any time in the next ninety minutes should do it.’

‘For real?’

Reacher nodded.

‘Maybe I will take a look in her yard. Maybe you’re right about the suitcases, too. But you didn’t hear that from me. It was kept away from the press for fear of copycats. And as a test for anyone claiming to be a witness.’

‘Thank you, Officer Rule. And good luck with your phone calls.’

‘Reacher, wait. I have a question for you. How did you know?’

‘About Holly’s boyfriend?’

‘No. About the suitcases.’

‘It’s part of something I’m working on. Maybe. I’m still joining the dots.’

‘Be careful where you tread. This is an active investigation. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it. If you know something, you have to tell me.’

‘Don’t worry. I will. When I’m sure.’

Rutherford was asleep when Reacher got back to the car. Like a kid. Or a dog.

‘Get what you need?’ Rutherford said, rubbing his eyes as Reacher slid into the passenger seat.

‘Another piece of the puzzle,’ Reacher said. ‘Maybe.’

‘So what’s next on the list?’

‘Accommodation.’

‘You could stay at my place.’

‘Thanks, but no. And you can’t stay there either. You saw the woman from yesterday watching your building. That shows they know where you live. We need to find somewhere else. Somewhere discreet. Anonymous. Where we can come and go without attracting attention. And in a convenient location. A motel outside town, maybe? Or near the highway?’

Rutherford reached for the button to start the engine then pulled his hand back and took out his phone. ‘I’ll have to Google it. I’ve lived here my whole life so I’ve never stayed in a hotel in town.’ He pressed and clicked and scrolled for a couple of minutes, then lowered the phone. ‘And there’s another problem. No offence, Reacher, but are you really the kind of guy who can come and go without attracting attention? Regardless of how anonymous or discreet a motel is?’

Reacher said nothing.

‘How about this as an alternative?’ Rutherford said. ‘I have the key to a neighbour’s apartment. It’s on the same floor, opposite mine. The guy who owns it is away on a cruise. He hates the heat so he’s away most of the year. Except winter. I keep an eye on the place for him. And water his plants. We could both stay there. My friend wouldn’t mind and no one else would know. In fact, it could help us because if anyone saw us going into the building they’d assume we were heading for my apartment so they wouldn’t search for us but they’d actually be looking in the wrong place. And if anyone tried to pay us a visit the doorman would call my cell. We could watch them watching us.’

‘That might work.’ Reacher paused. ‘Is there a garage at your building?’

‘Yes. In the basement. Access is from the street behind.’

‘Is your car there?’

Rutherford nodded. ‘Each unit gets one space. You can rent more if you want. And there are visitors’ spots if you want to park this car in one.’

‘This car can stay on the street,’ Reacher said. ‘Have you got any duct tape at your place?’

‘Why would I have duct tape?’

‘How about a sharp knife?’

‘I have a couple of kitchen knives. But they’re not super sharp. I’m not much of a chef.’

‘Where’s the nearest hardware store?’

‘I’m not sure. But there’s a truck stop near the highway that sells those things.’

The truck stop wasn’t the biggest Reacher had ever been in, but it was close. More of a small village than a large gas station. It had pizza restaurants and burger joints and fried chicken stands. Two motels. A coffee shop. Even a souvenir shop. The forecourt with the fuel pumps was almost the size of a football field, but it still seemed like an afterthought. The pumps were divided into two groups. Four banks of regular-sized ones for cars and SUVs. And six banks of larger ones, spread wider and further apart for the trucks and their trailers.

They left the car at one of the regular pumps and headed into the main building. Rutherford took a moment to get his bearings, then led Reacher to a cabinet full of knives. Reacher picked out two. A large one and a small one. The large one he didn’t particularly like because of its dull, cheap steel but he took it anyway because he figured it looked intimidating, which could be a useful quality. The smaller one was much more satisfactory. Its blade folded so it would fit easily in a pocket. It had a good sharp edge and a mechanism that allowed it to open with a flick of the wrist. Reacher paid for the knives with cash then loaded two rolls of duct tape into his basket, along with a can of pepper spray for Rutherford. He was heading back to the register when he spotted a clothing section. Of sorts. He rooted around until he unearthed a pair of khaki pants and a pale green T-shirt that he thought would fit. He added a denim shirt he figured could double as a light jacket. Then he settled up for his goods and pre-paid for some gas. He handed a bag containing everything but the clothes to Rutherford and went to the restroom to change. He transferred his toothbrush and passport and ATM card and cash into his new pockets, and dumped the old garments in the trash. When he emerged he found Rutherford between two heated cabinets which dispensed the sausages for self-assembly hotdogs.

‘I got these for you,’ Rutherford said, and held out a different bag.

Reacher took it and looked inside. He saw two brightly coloured boxes. One contained a cell phone. The other a Bluetooth earpiece. He handed the bag back to Rutherford. ‘Thanks, Rusty. I appreciate the thought. But I’m not a cell-phone guy.’

‘Please take it,’ Rutherford said. ‘It’s really for me. You can’t be at my side twenty-four seven and it would make me feel better knowing I could call if I needed you. Even waiting here just now got me so nervous I almost followed you into the bathroom. And look.’ Rutherford reached into the bag and took out the phone. ‘I got you the oldest-fashioned kind they had. It was the last one left. It doesn’t even go online. It can make calls, and it can text. That’s all. I’ll set it up for you. I’ll keep it charged. And when this is all over, if you don’t want it any more, give it back. I’m sure there’s a museum somewhere that would take it.’

Reacher said nothing.

But he did let Rutherford pass him the bag.

The same time Reacher was changing his clothes, Speranski’s burner phone was starting to ring. He picked up right away. It was a very short call. From a man a short distance away. A report. First, a fact. Then an opinion. Brief and concise. Leaving Speranski feeling mightily relieved. He took a sip of iced tea, then dialled a number on his secure phone.

‘You can recall the team,’ Speranski said when the call was answered. ‘Rutherford and the drifter are back in town.’

‘You’ve seen them?’ the voice at the end of the line said.

‘No. My contact in the police department reported it.’

‘He didn’t arrest them?’

‘He didn’t come into contact with them. Not directly. Another officer did. She mentioned it without realizing the significance.’

‘Why did they come back?’

‘I don’t know. Maybe Rutherford got cold feet about flying. Maybe the drifter contacted him and called him back. We’ll find out.’

‘They give any clue where they’re going?’

‘Nothing concrete.’

‘OK. We’ll cover Rutherford’s building, the coffee shop, and the diner. He doesn’t usually stray far.’

‘Good. One other thing. Have the team swing by the ambush site on their way to town. Or a couple of them, at least. My guy was supposed to deliver the drifter. Something obviously happened to him.’

‘I’ll have them check. We can arrange clean-up if necessary. And if it’s not necessary?’

‘Make it necessary. The man failed. Or he sold us out. Either way, he’s no use now.’

Back outside Reacher pumped the gas, then told Rutherford to drive to the street behind his building and stop twenty yards short of the entrance to the garage.

‘Is there a camera on the outside?’ he asked when they arrived.

‘Yes.’ Rutherford pointed. ‘There’s one right above the door. Sometimes if it’s late and it’s raining and a nice doorman is working you can flash your headlights and he opens it for you remotely. Saves you getting out.’

‘How do you open it normally?’

‘With a fob. You just hold it up to a sensor. And there’s a keypad for backup.’

‘Does the code get changed frequently?’

‘No.’ Rutherford rolled his eyes. ‘It’s been 1 2 3 4 ever since I moved in.’

‘How’s the garage laid out?’

‘You drive down a ramp, which curves to the left. You’re supposed to honk but no one does. Then the main space is just a basic rectangle. There are pillars every three car widths apart. Spaces along each side. And a double row in the centre.’

‘Cameras?’

Rutherford thought for a moment. ‘Yes. There are those little half globes dotted around on the ceiling. I couldn’t say how many.’

‘Is there pedestrian access to the building?’

‘Yes. There’s a door at the far end. It leads to a flight of steps up to the lobby. You need your fob to open it, or there’s another keypad you can use.’

‘Good. We’ll risk one drive-by, then I want you to loop around to the front of the building and stop somewhere with a clear view of the main entrance.’

Rutherford drove slowly past the garage entrance then cut through an alley, squeezing past a pair of dumpsters, and rolled the car to the kerb diagonally opposite the diner. He left the engine running, ready to go. Reacher scanned the street ahead, working systematically, projecting a mental grid across the storefronts and the sections of sidewalk. No one was loitering. No one was waiting in any of the parked cars. No vehicle passed them more than once. No one was out walking. Rutherford took the new cell phone out of its box. Reacher repeated his scan, looking behind them this time. Rutherford worked at a credit-card-sized piece of plastic until he’d separated a section which held a little gold chip. He inserted it into a slot in the back of the phone. He slid the battery into place over it and hit the power button. Reacher repeated his scan to the front. Saw no one. The phone lit up and played a tinny electronic tune. Reacher repeated his scan, behind. Saw no one.

‘There’s a little charge in the battery,’ Rutherford said, and passed the phone to Reacher. ‘Are we going to be in the car for a while? I could charge it the rest of the way.’

‘No,’ Reacher said. ‘The coast’s clear. It’s time to move. Here’s what I want you to do. Go into your building and tell the doorman you came back from the airport because you forgot something. Tell him you rebooked your flight for this afternoon and you’re going to drive to the airport this time but need his advice about when you should leave to get there by a quarter after four. Whatever time he suggests you should thank him, say you’ll see him in a couple of weeks when you get back, then head upstairs. Only don’t stay in your own apartment. Go to your neighbour’s. Wait for me there. OK?’

‘OK.’ Rutherford handed the car key to Reacher and opened his door. ‘And I’ll text you when I get there. You have a phone now. You might as well use it.’