LEE CHILD. KILLING FLOOR

We stood and glared at each other for what seemed like a long time. Teale gripped his heavy cane like he wanted to raise it up and hit me with it. I could see his hand tightening around it and his glance darting towards my head. But in the end he just stalked out of the office and slammed the door. I reopened it a crack and peered out after him. He was picking up a phone at one of the squad room desks. He was going to call Kliner. He was going to ask him when the hell he was going to do something about me. I shut the door again and turned to Finlay.

`What’s the problem?’ I asked him.

`Serious shit,’ he said. `But did you get a look in the truck?’

`I’ll get to that in a minute,’ I said. `What’s the problem here?’

`You want the small problem first?’ he said. `Or the big problem?’

`Small first,’ I said.

`Picard’s keeping Roscoe another day,’ he said. `No option.’

`Shit,’ I said. `I wanted to see her. She happy with that?’

`According to Picard she is,’ he said.

`Shit,’ I said again. `So what’s the big problem?’ `Somebody’s ahead of us,’ he whispered. `Ahead of us?’ I asked him. `What do you

mean?’

`Your brother’s list?’ he said. `The initials and the note about Sherman Stoller’s garage? First thing is there’s a telex in from the Atlanta PD this morning. Stoller’s house burned down in the night. Out by the golf course, where you went with Roscoe? Totally destroyed, garage and all. Torched. Somebody threw gasoline all over the place.’

`Christ,’ I said. `What about Judy?’

`Neighbour says she bailed out Tuesday night,’ he said. `Right after you spoke to her. Hasn’t been back. The house was empty.’

I nodded.

`Judy’s a smart woman,’ I said. `But that doesn’t put them ahead of us. We already saw the inside of the garage. If they were trying to hide something, they were too late. Nothing to hide anyway, right?’

`The initials?’ he said. `The colleges? I identified the Princeton guy this morning. W.B. was Walter Bartholomew. Professor. He was killed last night, outside his house.’

`Shit,’ I said. `Killed how?’

`Stabbed,’ he said. `Jersey police are calling it a mugging. But we know better than that, right?’

`Any more good news?’ I asked him.

He shook his head.

`Gets worse,’ he said. `Bartholomew knew something. They got to him before he could talk to us. They’re ahead of us, Reacher.’

`He knew something?’ I said. `What?’

`Don’t know,’ Finlay said. `When I called the number, I got some research assistant guy, works for Bartholomew. Seems Bartholomew was excited about something, stayed at his office late last night, working. This assistant guy was ferrying him all kinds of old material. Bartholomew was checking

it through. Late on, he packed up, e-mailed Joe’s computer and went home. He ran into the mugger, and that was that.’

`What did the e-mail say?’ I asked him.

`It said stand by for a call in the morning,’ he told me. `The assistant guy said it felt like Bartholomew had hit on something important.’

`Shit,’ I said again. `What about the New York initials? K.K.?’

`Don’t know yet,’ he said. `I’m guessing it’s another professor. If they haven’t gotten to him yet.’

`OK,’ I said. `I’m going to New York to fmd him.’

`Why the panic?’ Finlay asked. `Was there a problem with the truck?’

`There was one major problem,’ I said. `The truck was empty.’

There was silence in the office for a long moment.

`It was going back empty?’ Finlay said.

`I got a look inside just after I called you,’ I said.

`It was empty. Nothing in it at all. Just fresh air.’ `Christ,’ he said.

He looked upset. He couldn’t believe it. He’d admired Roscoe’s distribution theory. He’d congratulated her. Shook her hand. The menorah shape. It was a good theory. It was so good, he couldn’t believe it was wrong.

`We’ve got to be right,’ he said. `It makes so much sense. Think of what Roscoe said. Think of the map. Think of Gray’s figures. It all fits together. It’s so obvious, I can just about feel it. I can just about see it. It’s a traffic flow. It can’t be anything else. I’ve been over it so many times.’

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