Child, Lee – Without Fail

because they couldn’t think what else to do. That’s what the

army is like. Joe knew that.’

‘He was comparing himself,’ she said.

Reacher moved in his seat. Watched small swirls of conden

sation form on the windshield glass.

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But not to me.’

‘Who then?’

‘Our dad, possibly.’

She shrugged. ‘He never talked about him.’

‘Well, there you go,’ Reacher said. ‘Avoidance. Denial.’

‘You think? What was special about your dad?’

Reacher looked away. Closed his eyes.

‘He was a Marine,’ he said. ‘Korea and Vietnam. Very

compartmentalized guy. Gentle, shy, sweet, loving man, but a

stone-cold killer, too. Harder than a nail. Next to him I look like

Liberace.’

‘Do you compare yourself with him?’

Reacher shook his head. Opened his eyes..

‘No point,’ he said. ‘Next to him I look like Liberace. Always

will, no matter what. Which isn’t necessarily such a bad thing

for the world.’

231

‘Didn’t you like him?’

‘He was OK. But he was a freak. No room for people like him

any more.’

‘Joe shouldn’t have gone to Georgia,’ she said.

Reacher nodded. ‘No argument about that,’ he said. ‘No argument

at all. But it was nobody’s fault except his own. He should

have had more sense.’

‘So should you.’

‘I’ve got plenty of sense. Like for instance I joined the Military

Police, not the Marine Corps. Like for instance I don’t feel

compelled to rush around trying to design a new hundred-dollar

bill. I stick to what I know.’

‘And you think you know how to take out these guys?’

‘Like the garbage man knows how to take out the trash. It

ain’t rocket science.’

if’hat sounds pretty arrogant.’

He shook his head. ‘Listen, I’m sick of justifying myself. It’s

ridiculous. You know your neighbours? You know the people

who live round here?’

‘Not really,’ she said.

He rubbed mist off the glass and pointed out of his window

with his thumb. ‘Maybe one of them is an old lady who knits

sweaters. Are you going to walk up to her. and say, oh my God,

what’s with you? I can’t believe you actually have the temerity to

know how to knit sweaters.’

‘You’re equating armed combat with knitting sweaters?’

‘I’m saying we’re all good at something. And that’s what I’m

good at. Maybe it’s the only thing I’m good at. I’m not proud of

it, and I’m not ashamed of it, either. It’s just there. I can’t help it.

I’m genetically programmed to win, is all. Several consecutive

generations.’

‘Joe had the same genes.’

‘No, he had the same parents. There’s a difference.’

‘I hope your faith in yourself is justified.’

‘It is. Especially now, with Neagley here. She makes me look

like Liberace.’

Froelich looked away. Went quiet.

‘What?’ he said.

‘She’s in love with you.’

232

‘Bullshit.’

Froelich looked straight at him. ‘How would you know?’

‘She’s never been interested.’ Froelich just shook her head.

‘I just talked to her about it,’ he said. ‘The other day. She said

she’s never been interested. She told me that, words of one

syllable.’

‘And you believed her?’

‘Wasn’t I supposed to?’

Froelich said nothing. Reacher smiled, Slowly.

‘What, you think she is interested?’ he asked.

‘You smile just like Joe,’ she answered. ‘A little shy, a little

lopsided. It’s the most incredibly beautiful smile I ever saw.’

‘You’re not exactly over him, are you?’ he said. ‘At the risk

of being the last to know. At the risk of stating the bloody

obvious.’

She didn’t answer. Just got out of the car and started walking.

He followed after her. It was cold and damp on the street. The

night air was heavy. He could smell the river, and jet fuel from

somewhere. They reached her house. She unlocked the door.

They stepped inside.

There was a sheet of paper lying on the hallway floor.

233

TWELVE

I

T WAS THE FAMILIAR HIGH-WHITE LETTER-SIZE SHEET. IT WAS LYING precisely aligned with the oak flooring strips. It was in

the geometric centre of the hallway, near the bottom of the

stairs, exactly where Reacher had dumped his garbage bag of

clothes two nights previously. It had a simple statement printed

neatly on it, in the familiar Times New Roman computer script,