Worth Dying For

ELEVEN

JASPER DUNCAN TOOK A PART-USED BOTTLE OF KNOB CREEK whiskey from his kitchen cabinet and stuck three gnarled fingers and a blunt thumb in four chipped glasses. He put them on the table and pulled the cork from the bottle and poured four generous measures. He slid the glasses across the scarred wood, a little ceremony, focused and precise. He sat down again and each man took an initial sip, and then the four glasses went back to the table, a ragged little volley of four separate thumps in the quiet of the night.

Jacob Duncan said, ‘From the beginning, son.’

Seth Duncan said, ‘I’m dealing with it.’

‘But not very well, by the sound of it.’

‘He’s my customer.’

Jacob shook his head. ‘He was your contact, back in the day, but we’re a family. We do everything together, and nothing apart. There’s no such thing as a side deal.’

‘We were leaving money on the table.’

‘You don’t need to go over ancient history. You found a guy willing to pay more for the same merchandise, and we surely appreciate that. But rewards bring risks. There’s no such thing as something for nothing. No free lunch. So what happened?’

‘We’re a week late.’

‘We aren’t. We don’t specify dates.’

Seth Duncan said nothing.

Jacob said, ‘What? You guaranteed a date?’

Seth Duncan nodded.

Jacob said, ‘That was dumb, son. We never specify dates. You know we can’t afford to. There are a hundred factors outside of our control. The weather, for one.’

‘I used a worst-case analysis.’

‘You think too much. There’s always something worse than the worst. Count on it. So what happened?’

‘Two guys showed up. At my house. Two days ago. His people. Tough guys.’

‘Where was Brett?’

‘I had to tell him I was expecting them.’

‘Were you?’

‘More or less.’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘Because I’m dealing with it.’

‘Not very well, son. Apparently. What did they do?’

‘They said they were there to deliver a message from their boss. An expression of displeasure. I said I understood. I explained. I apologized. They said that wasn’t good enough. They said they had been told to leave marks. I said they couldn’t. I said I have to be out and about. I have a business to run. So they hit Eleanor instead. To make their point.’

‘Just like that?’

‘They asked first. They made me agree. They made her agree, too. They made me hold her. They took turns. I told her sorry afterwards. She said, what’s the difference? Them then or you later? Because she knew I was agitated.’

‘And then what?’

‘I asked for another week. They gave me forty-eight hours.’

‘So they came back again? Tonight?’

‘Yes. They did it all over again.’

‘So who was the guy in the restaurant? One of them?’

‘No, he wasn’t one of them. I told you, I never saw him before.’

Jonas Duncan said, ‘He was a passer-by. Like we figured. From what he said at the time, to the boy. A passer-by full of the wrong end of the stick on this occasion.’

Jacob said, ‘Well, at least he’s out of our hair.’

Then they heard faint sounds outside. Tyres on gravel. A vehicle, on their driveway. It came slow, whining in a low gear. It seemed to stop halfway. The engine kept on running. There was a pause, and then a ragged thump, dull, percussive, somehow mixed with the sound of breath expelled, and then another pause, and another sound. Then the vehicle drove away, faster this time, with acceleration and gear changes, and the world went quiet again.

Jonas Duncan was first out the door. From fifty yards he could see strange humped shapes in the moonlight. From twenty he saw what they were. From five he saw what condition they were in. He said, ‘Not out of our hair. Not exactly. Not yet.’

Jacob Duncan said, ‘Who the hell is this guy?’

Seth Duncan and his uncle Jasper didn’t speak.

Reacher parked the pick-up truck next to the wrecked Subaru and found the motel owner waiting at his door. Mr Vincent. His hair looked black in the light.

‘Changing the locks?’ Reacher asked him.

The guy said, ‘I hope I won’t have to.’

‘But?’

‘I can’t let you stay here.’

Reacher said, ‘I paid thirty dollars.’

‘I’ll refund it, of course.’

‘That’s not the point. A deal is a deal. I didn’t damage anything.’

Vincent said nothing.

Reacher said, ‘They already know I’m here. Where else could I be?’

‘It was OK before.’

‘Before what?’

‘Before they told me not to let you stay here. Ignorance of the law is no offence. But I can’t defy them now. Not after they informed me.’

‘When did they inform you?’

‘Two minutes ago. By phone.’

‘You always do what they tell you?’

Vincent didn’t answer.

‘Dumb question, I suppose,’ Reacher said.

‘I’d lose everything I’ve worked for. And my family before me. All those years.’

‘Since 1969?’ Reacher asked.

‘How did you know that?’

‘Just a lucky guess. The moon landing and all. The Apollo programme.’

‘Do you remember 1969?’

‘Vaguely.’

‘I loved it. So many things were going on. I don’t know what happened afterwards. It really seemed like the start of a new era.’

‘It was,’ Reacher said. ‘Just not the era you expected.’

‘I’m sorry about this.’

‘You going to offer to drive me down to the Interstate now?’

‘I can’t do that either. We’re not supposed to help you in any way at all.’

‘We?’

‘Any of us. They’re putting the word out.’

‘Well, I seem to have inherited a truck,’ Reacher said. ‘I can drive myself.’

‘Don’t,’ Vincent said. ‘They’ll report it stolen. The county police will stop you. You won’t get halfway there.’

‘The Duncans control the cops too?’

‘No, not really. But a stolen truck is a stolen truck, isn’t it?’

‘They want me to stay here?’

‘They do now. You started a war. They want to finish it.’