Child, Lee. Running blind

“You want more?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Harper said. “We’ve got to get back.”

“OK.” She stood up and followed them out of her kitchen. Crossed the hall and opened her front door.

“Don’t let anybody in,” Reacher said.

Alison smiled. “I don’t plan to.”

“I mean it,” Reacher said. “It looks like there’s no force involved. This guy is just walking in. So you might know him. Or he’s some kind of a con artist, with some kind of a plausible excuse. Don’t fall for it.”

“I don’t plan to,” she said again. “Don’t worry about me. And call me if you need anything. I’ll be at the hospital afternoons, as long as it takes, but any other time is good. And best of luck.”

Reacher followed Harper through the front door, out onto the shale path. They heard the door close behind them, and then the loud sound of the lock turning.

s/

/ 40 local Bureau guy saved them two hours’ flying time by pointing out that they could hop from Spokane to Chicago and then change there for D.C. Harper did the business with the tickets and found out it was more expensive, which was presumably why the Quantico travel desk hadn’t booked it that way in the first place. But she authorized the extra money herself and decided to have the argument later. Reacher admired her for it. He liked impatience and wasn’t keen on another two hours in the Cessna. So they sent the Seattle guy back west alone and boarded a Boeing for Chicago. This time there was no upgrade, because the whole plane was coach. It put them close together, elbows and thighs touching all the way.

“So what do you think?” Harper asked.

“I’m not paid to think,” Reacher said. “In fact, so far I’m not getting paid at all. I’m a consultant. So you ask me questions and I’ll answer them.”

“I did ask you a question. I asked you what you think.”

He shrugged. “I think it’s a big target group and three of them are dead. You can’t guard them, but if the other eighty-eight do what Alison Lamarr is doing, they should be OK.”

132

l”C&(

“You think locked doors are enough to stop this guy?”

“He chooses his own MO. Apparently he doesn’t touch anything. If they don’t open the door for him, what’s he going to do?”

“Maybe change his MO.”

“In which case you’ll get him, because he’ll have to start leaving some hard evidence behind.”

He turned to look out of the window.

“That’s it?” Harper said. “We should just tell the women to lock their doors?”

He nodded. “I think you should be warning them, yes.”

“That doesn’t catch the guy.”

“You can’t catch him.”

“Why not?”

“Because of this profiling bullshit. You’re not factoring in how smart he is.”

She shook her head. “Yes, we are. I’ve seen the profile. It says he’s real smart. And profiling works, Reacher. Those people have had some spectacular successes.”

“Among how many failures?”

“What do you mean?”

Reacher turned back to face her. “Suppose I was in Blake’s position? He’s effectively a nationwide homicide detective, right? Gets to hear about everything. So suppose I was him, getting notified about every single homicide in America. Suppose every single time I said the likely suspect was a white male, age thirty and a half, wooden leg, divorced parents, drives a blue Ferrari. Every single time. Sooner or later, I’d be right. The law of averages would work for me. Then I could shout out hey, I was right. As long as I keep quiet about the ten thousand times I was wrong, I look pretty good, don’t I? Amazing deduction.”

“That’s not what Blake’s doing.”

“Isn’t it? Have you read stuff about his unit?”

She nodded. “Of course I have. That’s why I applied for the assignment. There are all kinds of books and articles.”

“I’ve rsad them too. Chapter one, successful case. Chapter two, successful case. And so on. No chapters about all the times they were wrong. Makes me wonder about how many times that was. My guess is a lot of times. Too many times to want to write about them.”

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