to get out. Didn’t matter what kind of signal it was. Cell phone, satellite phone, pager, walkie-talkie, police radio, whatever, it wasn’t going to happen. The laws of physics. Couldn’t be ignored.
A signal couldn’t get out because of the mesh.
A person couldn’t get out because of the bars.
Patty took a look over his shoulder and said, “What is all that stuff?”
Shorty tried hard to think of something cheerful to say, but he couldn’t, so he didn’t answer the question.
Chapter 30
Burke and Reacher drove back to the turn, where they headed south toward Laconia. Not all the way. Just a few miles. Far enough to get bars on Burke’s old phone. They pulled off on the shoulder of a wide left-hand curve. Ahead of them were fields and trees, and presumably the town itself on the other side of them, in the far distance, through the haze. Reacher took out Amos’s business card, and dialed her number. It rang twice and dumped to voice mail. She was away from her desk. He clicked off and tried again, this time with her cell number. It rang five times, and then it was answered.
Her voice said, “Interesting.”
He said, “What is?”
“You’re calling on the Reverend Burke’s phone. You’re still with him. You’re still in the vicinity.”
“How did you know this is the Reverend Burke’s phone?”
“I saw his license plate this morning. I checked with county. Now I know all about him. He’s a troublemaker.”
“He’s been very nice to me.”
“How can I help you?”
“Something made me think about guys getting drafted in from Boston. Seems to be a regular habit around here. I was wondering how you were doing with that.”
“Why?”
“Did anyone show up yet?”
Amos didn’t answer.
Reacher said, “What?”
“Chief Shaw is talking to the Boston PD again. They’re calling in some favors. The word on the street is five guys are working out of town today. There’s no sign of them at home. Their absence is conspicuous. It’s a reasonable assumption they’ve been sent our way. In which case we know all about the first four. They were the guy in the Chrysler and the three in the library. It’s the fifth guy we need to worry about. He left Boston much later than the others. We assume in response to a panic call from here. We assume he’s their cleanup hitter. The ultimate sanction.”
“Has he arrived?”
“I don’t know. We watch what we can, but we’re sure to miss something.”
Then she said, “Don’t you dare tell me you’re coming back to town. Because you ain’t, major. You’re staying away.”
“Relax, soldier,” Reacher said. “Stand easy. I’m staying away. I’m not coming back to town.”
“Then don’t worry about your description.”
“I was wondering exactly what it said. I was thinking back to exactly what the kid can have seen. The lighting was kind of patchy. It was an alley. There was a lamp over the door, but it was shaded. Like a cone. But even so, let’s assume he got a pretty good look at me. Although it was the middle of the night and most of the time he was mad as hell and spoiling for a fight, and then he was unconscious, basically. Therefore his grasp of detail is not likely to have been impressive. So what would a kid in his position say afterward? I’m sure it hurt to talk. By that point his teeth were in poor condition. I’m sure he had facial bruising. Maybe his jaw was busted. So what few words would he choose to mumble? Just the basics, surely. A big guy, with messy fair hair. I think that’s what he must have said.”
“OK.”
“Except at one point I spoke to the cocktail waitress. She asked if I was a cop. I said I was once upon a time, in the army. The kid might have remembered. It’s the kind of thing people add to descriptions. To flesh them out. To suggest the type of person, not just their appearance. Which would have been important to the kid. He needed to save face. He wanted to be able to say sure, he lost the fight, but only because he went up against a trained Special Forces killer. Like an excuse. Almost like a badge of honor. So actually I think he must have said, a big guy, messy fair hair, used to be in the