Die Trying by Lee Child

space, smoking, drumming a worried little rhythm with the blunt end of

his pencil.

He heard faint sounds much earlier than he thought he should. He had

no watch and no windows, but he was certain it was not yet morning. He

was certain he had another hour. Maybe two. But he could hear noise.

People moving in the street outside. He held his breath and listened.

Maybe three or four people. He quartered the room again. Frozen with

indecision. He should be pounding and kicking at the new pine boards.

He knew that. But he wasn’t. Because he knew it was hopeless, and

because he felt in his gut he must be silent. He had become sure of

that. Convinced. If he was silent, they might leave him alone. They

might forget he was in there.

Milosevic found the right place, the seventh of the eleven

establishments on his list. It was just opening up for business,

seven-forty in the morning. Just a storefront place, but elegant, not

really aimed at the typical commuter’s cheap worsteds. It advertised

all kinds of specialized processes and custom treatments. There was a

Korean woman in charge of the store. Milosevic showed her his FBI

shield and placed Holly’s file picture flat on the counter in front of

her.

“You ever see this person?” he asked her.

The Korean woman looked at the picture, politely, with concentration,

her hands clasped together behind her back.

“Sure,” she said. That’s Miss Johnson, comes in every Monday.”

Milosevic stepped closer to the counter. He leaned up close to the

woman.

“She come in yesterday?” Milosevic asked her.

The woman thought about it and nodded.

“Sure,” she said. “Like I told you, she comes in every Monday.”

“What kind of time?” he asked.

“Lunch hour,” the woman said. “Always lunch hour.”

“About twelve?” he said. Twelve-thirty, something like that?”

“Sure,” the woman said. “Always lunch hour on a Monday.”

“OK, yesterday,” Milosevic said. “What happened?”

The woman shrugged.

“Nothing happened,” she said. “She came in, she took her garments, she

paid, she left some garments to be cleaned.”

“Anybody with her?” he asked.

“Nobody with her,” the woman said. “Nobody ever with her.”

“Which direction was she headed?” Milosevic asked.

The woman pointed back towards the Federal Building.

“She came from that direction,” she said.

“I didn’t ask you where she came from,” Milosevic said. “Where did she

head when she left?”

The woman paused.

“I didn’t see,” she said. “I took her garments through to the back. I

heard the door open, but I couldn’t see where she went. I was in

back.”

“You just grabbed her stuff?” Milosevic said. “Rushed through to the

back before she was out of here?”

The woman faltered, like she was being accused of an impolite ness

“Not rushed,” she said. “Miss Johnson was walking slow. Bad leg,

right? I felt I shouldn’t stare at her. I felt she was embarrassed. I

walked her clothes through to the back so she wouldn’t feel I was

watching her.”

Milosevic nodded and tilted his head back and sighed up at the ceiling.

Saw a video camera mounted high above the counter.

“What’s that?” he said.

The Korean woman twisted and followed his gaze.

“Security,” she said. “Insurance company says we got to have it.”

“Does it work?” he asked.

“Sure it works,” the woman said. “Insurance company says it’s got

to.”

“Does it run all the time?” Milosevic asked.

The woman nodded and giggled.

“Sure it does,” she said. “It’s running right now. You’ll be on the

tape.”

Milosevic checked his watch.

“I need yesterday’s tape,” he said. “Immediately.”

The woman faltered again. Milosevic pulled his shield for the second

time.

“This is an FBI investigation,” he said. “Official federal business. I

need that tape, right now, OK?”

The woman nodded and held up her hand to make him wait. Stepped

through a door to the rear of the establishment. Came back out after a

long moment with a blast of chemical smell and a video cassette in her

hand.

“You let me have it back, OK?” she said. “Insurance company says we

got to keep them for a month.”

Milosevic took it straight in and by eight-thirty the Bureau