doesn’t trigger a metal detector. That woman could have been
carrying this thing. She could have slit Armstrong open from
his belly button to his chin with it. Or cut his throat. Or stuck it
in his eye.’
He passed the weapon over. Froelich took it and studied it.
‘Made by a firm called B6ker,’ Reacher said. ‘In Solingen,
Germany. They’re expensive, but they’re relatively available.’
Froelich shrugged. ‘OK, so you bought a knife. Doesn’t prove
anything.’
q’hat knife was in the ballroom Thursday night. It was
clutched in that woman’s left hand, in her pocket, with the
blade open, all the time she was ,shaking Armstrong’s hand and
pulling him close. She got his belly within three inches of it.’
Froelich stared at him. ‘Are you serious? Who was she?’
‘She was a party supporter called Elizabeth Wright, from
Elizabeth, New Jersey, as it happens. She gave the campaign
four thousand bucks, a grand each in her name, her husband’s,
and her two kids’. She stuffed envelopes for a month, put a big
sign in her front yard and operated a phone tree on election
day.’
‘So why would she carry a knife?’
‘Well, actually, she didn’t.’
He stood up and walked to the connecting door. Pulled his
half open and knocked hard on the inner half.
‘OK, Neagley,’ he called.
55
The inner door opened and a woman walked in from the next room. She was somewhere in her late thirties, medium height
and slim, dressed in blue jeans and a soft grey sweatshirt. She
had dark hair. Dark eyes. A great smile. The way she moved
and the tendons in her wrists spoke of serious gym time.
‘You’re the woman on the video,’ Froelich said.
Reacher smiled. ‘Frances Neagley, meet M. E. Froelich. M. E.
Froelich, meet Frances Neagley.’
‘Emmy?’ Frances Neagley said. ‘Like the television thing?’
‘Initials,’ Reacher said.
Froelich stared at him. ‘Who is she?’
‘The best master sergeant I ever worked with. Beyond expert
qualified on every kind of close-quarters combat you can think
of. Scares the hell out of me, certainly. She got cut loose around
the same time I did. Works as a security consultant in Chicago.’
‘Chicago,’ Froelich repeated. ‘That’s why the cheque went
there.’
Reacher nodded. ‘She funded everything, because I don’t
have a credit card or a cheque book. As you already know,
probably.’
‘So what happened to Elizabeth Wright from New Jersey?’
‘I bought these clothes,’ Reacher said. ‘Or rather, you bought
them for me. And the shoes. Sunglasses, too. My version of
Secret Service fatigues. I went to the barber. Shaved every day.
I wanted to look plausible. Then I wanted a lone woman from
New Jersey, so I met a couple of Newark flights at the airport
here on Thursday. Watched the crowd and latched onto Ms
Wright and told her I was a Secret Service agent and there was
a big security snafu going on and she should come with me.’
‘How did you know she was headed to the rally?’
‘I didn’t. I just looked at all the women coming out of baggage
claim and tried to judge by how they looked and what they were
carrying. Wasn’t easy. Elizabeth Wright was the sixth woman I
approached.’
‘And she believed you?’
‘I had impressive ID. I bought this radio earpiece from Radio
Shack, two bucks. Little electrical cord disappearing down the
back of my neck, see? I had a rented Town Car, black. I looked
the part, believe me. She believed me. She was quite excited
56
about the whole thing, really. I brought her back to this room
and guarded her all evening while Neagley took over. I kept
listening to my earpiece and talking into my watch.’
Froelich switched her gaze across to Neagley.
‘We wanted New Jersey for a reason,’ Neagley said. Their
driving licences are the easiest to forge, you know that? I had a
laptop and a colour printer with me. I’d just gotten through
making Reacher’s Secret Service ID for him. No idea if it was
anything like the real thing, but it sure looked good. So I made
up a Jersey licence with my picture and he name and address