‘Wrong,’ Tony said. ‘We’ll do it different.’
The guy looked across at him. ‘Why?’
Tony squealed the big car up and out into the sunlight.
‘Because you’re not very smart,’ he said. ‘If that’s how you’d do it, there’s got to be a better way, right? You screwed up in Garrison. You’ll screw up here. She’s probably got this Reacher guy with her. He beat you there, he’ll beat you here. So whatever you figure is the best way to do it, that’s the last thing we’re going to do.’
‘So how are we going to do it?’
‘I’ll explain it to you real careful,’ Tony said. ‘I’ll try to keep it real simple.’
Reacher slid the window back down. Clicked the lock and rattled the blind down into position. She was standing just inside the doorway, hair still darkened by the shower, dressed in a simple sleeveless linen dress, bare legs, plain shoes. The dress was the same colour as her wet hair, but would end up darker as her hair dried. She was carrying a purse and a large leather briefcase, the size he had seen commercial pilots using. It was clearly heavy. She put it down and ducked away to her garment bag, which was on the floor against a wall, where he had dumped it the previous night. She slid the envelope containing Leon’s will out of
the pocket and unclicked the lid of the briefcase and stowed it inside.
‘Want me to carry that?’ he asked.
She smiled and shook her head.
‘Union town,’ she said. ‘Bodyguarding doesn’t include drayage around here.’
‘It looks pretty heavy,’ he said.
‘I’m a big girl now,’ she replied, looking at him.
He nodded. Lifted the old iron bar out of its brackets and left it upright. She leaned past him and turned the locks. The same perfume, subtle and feminine. Her shoulders in the dress were slim, almost thin. Small muscles in her left arm were bunching to balance the heavy case.
‘What sort of law you got in there?’ he asked.
‘Financial,’ she said.
He eased the door open. Glanced out. The hallway was empty. The elevator indicator was showing somebody heading down to the street from three.
‘What sort of financial?’
They stepped across and called the elevator.
‘Debt rescheduling, mostly,’ she said. ‘I’m more of a negotiator than a lawyer, really. More like a counsellor or a mediator, you know?’
He didn’t know. He had never been in debt. Not out of any innate virtue, but simply because he had never had the opportunity. All the basics had been provided for him by the Army. A roof over his head, food on his plate. He had never gotten into the habit of wanting much more. But he’d known guys who had run into trouble. They bought houses with mortgages and cars on time payment plans. Sometimes they got behind. The company clerk would sort it out. Talk to the bank, deduct the necessary provision straight from the guy’s
paycheck. But he guessed that was small-time, compared to what she must deal with.
‘Millions of dollars?’ he asked.
The elevator arrived. The doors slid open.
‘At least,’ she said. ‘Usually tens of millions, sometimes hundreds.’
The elevator was empty. They stepped inside.
‘Enjoy it?’ he asked.
The elevator whined downward.
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘A person needs a job, it’s as good as she’s going to get.’
The elevator settled with a bump.
‘You good at it?’
She nodded.
‘Yes,’ she said simply. ‘Best there is on Wall Street, no doubt about that.’
He smiled. She was Leon’s daughter, that was for damn sure.
The elevator doors slid open. An empty lobby, the street door sucking shut, a broad woman heading slowly down the steps to the sidewalk.
‘Car keys?’ he said.
She had them in her hand. A big bunch of keys on a brass ring.
‘Wait here,’ he said. ‘I’ll back it up to the stairs. One minute.’
The door from the lobby to the garage opened from the inside with a push bar. He went through and down the metal steps and scanned ahead into the gloom as he walked. Nobody there. At least, nobody visible. He walked confidently to the wrong car, a big dark Chrysler something, two spaces from Jodie’s jeep. He dropped flat to the floor and looked across, under the intervening vehicles. Nothing there.