“What about the flight in from D.C.? You going to find her real name in the airline computer?”
Blake nodded again. “If we need to.”
“You see your problem, right?” Deerfield said again. “It’s just not acceptable to have a dead agent, without somebody being responsible.”
Reacher nodded. “And it’s not acceptable to admit an agent was a killer.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Blake said.
“Even though she was a killer?”
“She wasn’t a killer,” Deerfield said. “She was a loyal agent, doing a fine job.”
Reacher nodded.
“Well, I guess this means I’m not going to get paid,” he said.
Deerfield made a face, like there was a bad smell in the room.
“This is not a joke, Reacher,” he said. “Let’s be real clear about that. You’re in big trouble. You can say whatever the hell you want. You can say you had suspicions. But you’ll look like an idiot. Nobody will listen to you. And it won’t matter anyway. Because if you had suspicions, you should have let Harper arrest her, right?”
“No time.”
Deerfield shook his head. “Bullshit.”
“Was she visibly in the act of harming Scimeca?” Blake asked.
“I needed her out of my way.”
“Our counsel will say even if you had mistaken but sincere prior suspicions, you should have gone straight for Scimeca in the tub and let Harper deal with Lamarr behind you. It was two against one. It would have saved you. time, right? If you were so concerned with your old buddy?”
“It might have saved me half a second.”
“Half a second could have been critical,” Deerfield said. “Life-or-death medical situation like that? Our counsel will make a big point out of it. He’ll
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say spending precious time hitting somebody proves something, like personal animosity.”
The room went quiet. Reacher looked down at the table.
“Law buff like you knows all about it,” Blake said. “Honest mistakes occur, but even so, actions in defense of a victim need to happen right at the exact time the victim is getting assaulted. Not afterward. Afterward is revenge, pure and simple.”
Reacher said nothing.
“And you can’t claim it was mistaken and accidental,” Blake said. “You once told me you know all about how to break someone’s skull, and no way would it happen by accident. That guy in the alley, remember? Petrosian’s boy? And what goes for skulls goes for necks, right? So it wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate homicide.”
There was silence.
“OK,” Reacher said. “What’s the deal?”
“You’re going to jail,” Deerfield said. “There’s no deal.”
“Bullshit, there’s no deal,” Reacher said. “There’s always a deal.”
Silence again. It lasted minutes. Then Blake shrugged.
“Well, you want to cooperate, we could compromise,” he said. “We could call Lamarr a suicide, grieving about her father, tormented she couldn’t save her sister.”
“And you could keep your big mouth shut,” Deerfield said. “You could tell nobody nothing, except what we want them told.”
Silence again.
“Why should I?” Reacher said.
“Because you’re a smart guy,” Deerfield said. “Don’t forget, there’s absolutely nothing on Lamarr. You know that. She was way too smart. Sure, you could dig around a couple of years, if you had a million dollars for lawyer bills. You could come up with a little meaningless circumstantial stuff, but what’s a jury going to do with that? A big man hates a small woman? He’s a bum, she’s a federal agent? He breaks her neck, and then he blames her for it? Some fantastic story about hypnosis? Forget about it.”
“So face it, OK?” Blake said. “You’re ours, now.”
There was silence. Then Reacher shook his head.
“No,” he said. “I think I’ll pass on that.”
“Then you go to jail.”
“Just one question, first,” Reacher said.
ifu/t/U/M (filing 355
“Which is?”
“Did I kill Lorraine Stanley?”
Blake shook his head. “No, you didn’t.”
“How do you know?”
“You know how we know. We had you tailed, all that week.”
“And you gave a copy of the surveillance report to my lawyer, right?”
“Right.”
“OK,” Reacher said.
“OK what, smart guy?”
“OK nuts to you, is what,” Reacher said.
“You want to expand on that?”
Reacher shook his head. “You figure it out.”