Child, Lee – Without Fail

outside of his home state and outside of his circle of friends saw

his face. Heard his name. For the first time ever. I think this all

could be as basic as that.’

‘In what way?’

‘Suppose his face came back at somebody from way in the

past. Completely out of the blue. Like a sudden shock.’

‘Like who?’

‘Like you’re some guy somewhere and long ago some

young man lost his temper and smacked you around. Some

situation like that. Maybe in a bar, maybe over a girl. Maybe he

humiliated you by doing so. You never see the guy again, but

the incident festers in your mind. Years pass, and suddenly

there’s the guy all over the papers and the TV. He’s a politician,

running for vice president. You never heard of him in the years

before, because you don’t watch C-SPAN or CNN. But now,

there he is, everywhere, in your face. So what do you do? If

you’re politically aware you might call the opposing campaign

and dish the dirt. But you’re not politically aware, because this

is the first time you’ve ever seen him since the fight in the bar a

lifetime ago. So what do you do? The sight of him brings it all

back. It’s been festering.’

‘You think about some kind of revenge.’

Reacher nodded. ‘Which would explain Swain’s thing about

wanting him to suffer. But maybe Swain’s been looking in the

wrong place. Maybe we all have. Because maybe this isn’t

personal to Armstrong the politician. Maybe it’s personal to

Armstrong the man. Maybe it’s really personal.’

325

Neagley stopped pacing and sat down in the chair. ‘It’s very

tenuous,’ she said. ‘People get over things, don’t they?’

‘Do they?’

‘Mostly.’

Reacher glanced down at her. ‘You haven’t gotten over what

ever makes it that you don’t like people to touch you.’

The room went quiet.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘Normal people get over things.’

‘Normal people don’t kidnap women and cut thumbs off and

kill innocent bystanders.’

She nodded. ‘OK,’ she said again. ‘It’s a theory. But where

can we go with it?’

‘Armstrong himself, maybe,’ Reacher said. ‘But that would be

a difficult conversation to have with a vice president-elect. And

would he even remember? If he inherited the kind of temper

that gets a guy thrown out of the army he could have had

dozens of fights long ago. He’s a big guy. Could have spread

mayhem far and wide before he got a handle on it.’

‘His wife? They’ve been together a long time.’

Reacher said nothing.

‘Time to get going,’ Neagley said. ‘We meet with Bannon at

seven. Are we going to tell him?’

‘No,’ Reacher said. ‘He wouldn’t listen.’.

‘Go shower,’ Neagley said.

Reacher nodded. ‘Something else first. It kept me awake last

night for an hour. It nagged at me. Something that’s not here,

or something that hasn’t been done.’

Neagley shrugged. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘I’ll think about it. Now get

your ass in gear.’

He dressed in the last of Joe’s suits. It was charcoal grey and

as fine as silk. He used the last of the clean shirts. It was

stiff with starch and as white as new snow. The last tie was

dark blue with a tiny epeated pattern. When you looked very

closely you saw that each element of the pattern was a diagram

of a pitcher’s hand, gripping a baseball, preparing to throw a

knuckleball.

He met Neagley out in the lobby and ate a muffin from the

buffet and took a cup of coffee with him in the Secret Service

326

Town Car. They were late into the conference room. Bannon

and Stuyvesant were already there. Bannon was still dressed

like a city cop. Stuyvesant was back in a Brooks Brothers suit.

Reacher and Neagley left one seat unoccupied between themselves

and Stuyvesant. Bannon stared at the empty place, as if

maybe it was supposed to symbolize Froelich’s absence.

I’he FBI is not going to have agents in Grace, Wyoming,’ he

said. ‘Special request from Armstrong, via the Director. He

doesn’t want a circus out there.’

‘Suits me,’ Reacher said.

‘You’re wasting your time,’ Bannon said. ‘We’re complying

only because we’re happy to. The bad guys know how this stuff

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