The Sentinel (Jack Reacher #25) - Lee Child Page 0,102

getting made.’

‘Right. It only makes sense if he thinks there’s something secret hidden on it. Something he never wants to see the light of day.’

‘Meaning he’s working for the Russians. Please God.’

‘Indeed,’ Reacher said. ‘But listen. After I left Klostermann’s place a bunch of guys showed up there for a meeting. Could you run their licence plates? They could be connected.’

‘I shouldn’t,’ Wallwork said. ‘But I will. I’ll call you back when I’ve got something.’

TWENTY-FIVE

Reacher was feeling pretty good when he hung up the phone and started back to the motel. He figured the server was where it needed to be. The Russian technicians would get to work on it and everything would fall into place from there. The beginning of the end was surely under way. But the further he drove, the more unsettled he became. He could feel a scratch at the back of his brain. It was nagging at him. Telling him something was wrong. Two things, in fact. The first he couldn’t put his finger on. Yet. It had to do with something he’d seen at Klostermann’s house. Wallwork had triggered a connection when they spoke. It was there, but not in focus yet. Like a photograph from an old Polaroid camera. Vague and indistinct at first, but definitely something. All Reacher could do was wait. The image would sharpen up. His brain just needed time to join all the dots.

The second thing was already clear. It reminded him of a French legend his mother used to tell. About an ancient soothsayer who could catch a person’s words and scatter them on the surface of a magic lake. At first the words would all look the same. They would all float and bob around. Then the true ones would soak up the water and sink, leaving only the lies at the top for all to see. In this case the false words belonged to Klostermann. He’d spoken them the first time they’d met and they were still there, afloat in Reacher’s memory. My father fled to the States from Germany in the 1930s. But Wallwork had checked the immigration records. Heinrich Klostermann arrived in the United States in 1946. After World War II. Not before. Not the kind of detail a person would forget. So either Henry Klostermann misspoke or misremembered. Or he had something entirely different to hide.

Reacher was almost at the truck stop when his phone rang. It was Wallwork again.

‘News?’ Reacher said.

‘Nothing from Fisher,’ Wallwork said. ‘I’m calling back about those licence plates. That was an interesting group Klostermann met with. The guy in the S-Class is a neighbour. He owns a bunch of buildings in town, plus a heap of land outside it. One of the other guys is a lighting designer. One does sound systems. And the generator guy speaks for himself. If you ask me, Klostermann is putting together some kind of outdoor concert. Maybe it’s a new venture for him. Maybe it’s a hobby. Or a one-off thing, to celebrate some kind of event or anniversary.’

‘What about the guy on the bike?’

‘He’s an all-round disaster zone. His jacket’s two inches thick. I can’t imagine him doing anything useful. Directing traffic at the event, maybe? Or sticking up posters?’

Reacher was quiet for a moment. ‘Have you got an address for him?’

‘Sure. Why?’

‘It looked like they kicked him to the kerb. He’ll likely have the loosest lips of the bunch. I have nothing to do until we hear from Fisher. I was thinking I could have a conversation with the guy. See what comes out if we look at Klostermann from a different angle.’

‘Could be useful, I guess. Obviously I shouldn’t tell you. So you didn’t hear it from me.’

Reacher thanked him then hung up, called Sands back, and told her what he was planning to do. She didn’t respond right away.

‘Everything OK?’ he said.

‘Yes,’ Sands said. ‘It’s just Rusty.’

‘What’s he done?’

‘Gone down with a migraine. I knew he would. This always happens when he works too hard. He won’t take breaks. He won’t eat. Won’t drink. And then, bang. He’s face down on the floor.’

‘I’ll be there in five minutes.’

‘No. Go and lean on this guy. One thing I learned in the Bureau – never leave a lead unfollowed. Those are the ones that bite you in the ass.’

The address Wallwork gave Reacher for the guy on the bike was in the same subdivision as Holly’s place. Reacher cut roughly southwest from the truck stop to avoid driving back through