Child, Lee – Without Fail

garage was painted gloss white, walls and ceiling and floor

alike. The place looked like a monochrome photograph. There

was a door with a small porthole of wired glass. Froelich led

them through it and up a narrow mahogany staircase into a

small first-floor lobby. There were marble pilasters and a single

elevator door.

‘You two shouldn’t really be here,’ Froelich said. ‘So say

nothing, stick close to me and walk fast, OK?’

Then she paused a beat. ‘But come look at something first.’

She led them through another inconspicuous door and round

a corner into a vast dark hall that felt the size of a football field.

he building’s main lobby,’ she said. Her voice echoed in the marble emptiness. The light was dim. White stone looked grey

in the gloom.

‘Here,’ she said.

The walls had giant raised panels carved out of marble,

reeded at the edges in the classical style. The one they were

standing under was egraved at the top: The United States

Del.artment of the Treasury. The inscription ran laterally for

eight or nine feet. Underneath it was another inscription: Roll

of Honor. Then starting in the top left corner of the panel was

an engraved list of dates and names. Maybe three or four dozen

of them. The last but one place on the list wasJ. Reacher, 1997.

78

Last was M. B. Gordon, 1997. Then there was plenty of empty

space. Maybe a column and a half.

qhat’s Joe,’ Froelich said. ‘Our tribute.’

Reacher looked up at his brother’s name. It was neatly

chiselled. Each letter was maybe two inches high and inlaid

with gold leaf. The marble looked cold, and it was veined and

flecked like marble everywhere. Then he caught a glimpse in

his mind of Joe’s face, maybe twelve years old, maybe at the

dinner table or the breakfast table, always a millisecond faster

than anyone else to see a joke, always a millisecond slower to

start a smile. Then a glimpse of him leaving home, which at

that time was a service bungalow somewhere hot, his shirt wet

with sweat, his kitbag on his shoulder, heading out to the

flight-line and a ten-thousand-mile journey to West Point. Then

at the graveside at their mother’s funeral, which was the last

time he had seen him alive. He’d met Molly Beth Gordon, too.

About fifteen seconds before she died. She had been a bright,

vivacious blonde woman. Not so very different from Froelich

herself.

‘No, that’s not Joe,’ he said. ‘Or Molly Beth. Those are just

names.’

Neagley glanced at him and Froelich said nothing and

led them back to the small lobby with the single elevator.

They went up three floors to a different world. It was full of

narrow corridors and low ceilings and businesslike adaptations.

Acoustic tile overhead, halogen ,light, white linoleum and grey

carpet on the floors, offices divided into cubicles with shoulder

high padded fabric panels on adjustable feet. Banks of phones,

fax machines, piles of paper, computers everywhere. There was

a literal hum of activity built from the whine of hard drives and

cooling fans and the muted screech of modems and the soft

ringing of phones. Inside the main door was a reception counter

with a man in a suit sitting behind it. He had a phone cradled in

his shoulder and was writing something on a message log and

couldn’t manage more than a puzzled glance and a distracted

nod of greeting.

‘Duty officer,’ Froelich said. Fhey work a three=shift system

round the clock. This desk is always manned.’

‘Is this the only way in?’ Reacher asked.

79

‘There are fire stairs way in back,’ Froelich said. ‘But don’t

get ahead of yourself. See the cameras?’

She pointed to the ceiling. There were miniature surveillance

cameras everywhere there needed to be to cover every corridor.

q’ake them into account,’ she said.

She led them deeper into the complex, turning left and right

until they ended up at what must have been the back of the

floor. There was a long narrow corridor that opened out into a

windowless square space. Against the side wall of the square

was a secretarial station with room for one person, with a desk

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