The Sentinel (Jack Reacher #25) - Lee Child Page 0,64
the kitchen counter. She was wrapped in the same robe as the day before and was sipping coffee from a plain white mug. She stood when she saw Reacher and poured a mug for him, and then poured another as Rutherford stumbled out from behind the dividers, rubbing his eyes.
Sands was in favour of calling ahead to set up an appointment at the Spy House. She felt it was the polite thing to do. And also the practical thing. They could make sure someone was home. Avoid the risk of a wasted journey. And the risk that the sight of Reacher arriving unannounced could lead a panicked homeowner to call the police. Reacher didn’t agree. Experience told him that surprise was his friend. He’d prefer to be knocking on the door at 4:00 a.m., the way the KGB had done back in the day. And if no one was home, all would not be lost. It’s easier to search a house when the owners aren’t there.
Rutherford was still too dopey to voice a coherent argument either way so they decided that Reacher would go unannounced and Sands would stay at the apartment and find out what the town did with its discarded computer equipment. She was clinging to the hope that they could find the servers Rutherford had trashed and keep the dream of making their fortune alive. Reacher drained one more mug of coffee then stood up to leave.
‘Wait.’ Rutherford slid down from his stool. ‘I’ll come with you. Give me two minutes to get dressed.’
‘You don’t want to stay and help Sarah?’ Reacher said.
Rutherford shook his head. ‘There’s no point. No one would talk to me. Sarah’s far more persuasive, anyway. And I always wanted to see inside the Spy House.’
‘Why? It’s not going to be full of spies in disguises practising secret codes with invisible ink. It’ll just be a normal house.’
‘I know. I still want to see it.’
Reacher sat back down and drank another mug of coffee while Rutherford rustled and rummaged behind the divider. He returned wearing the same pants as the day before and the same kind of polo shirt, only in a different colour. Reacher stood and picked up the key to Marty’s car.
‘You know what?’ Rutherford said. ‘Why don’t we take my car?’
Reacher smiled to himself. ‘I get it now. You don’t want to see the Spy House at all. You just want to find out if I brought your Beetle back in one piece.’
‘Can you blame me?’ Rutherford said. ‘I love that car. It’s irreplaceable.’
In the garage Reacher waited for Rutherford to walk around the VW and inspect every inch of paintwork. Then he got down on his knees on the passenger side and peered underneath.
‘What are you doing?’ Rutherford said. ‘Did you drive over something? Tell me you didn’t hit a deer.’
‘I’m looking for tracking devices,’ Reacher said. ‘You do your side. Underneath the car. Along the running boards. Inside the fenders. Anywhere a magnet could stick.’
‘But you checked yesterday. You found a tracker. You said you ditched it.’
‘I was in the army for thirteen years, Rusty. We check. And then we check again. It’s what we do.’
Rutherford shrugged and then worked his way from the front to the back. He came up empty-handed. ‘Nothing on my side. You find anything?’
Reacher leaned across the hood and held out his hand. ‘Another tracker. The same kind. In the same place. And there was this.’ He showed Rutherford a scrap of paper. ‘It was held in place by the magnet.’
Rutherford took the paper and read it out loud. ‘Romeo, Juliet. A bunch of numbers. Eight bells. What does it mean?’
‘Romeo Juliet is R J in the NATO phonetic alphabet. My initials, military style. Reacher, Jack.’
‘I get it,’ Rutherford said. ‘And the numbers? They could be a grid reference. What about eight bells?’
‘That’s noon in Navy time.’
‘Maybe someone wants you to go to this place at noon? But why write it like that?’
‘To show they know my background? To gain my trust? Or intrigue me, perhaps.’
‘What if it’s a trap? You shouldn’t go.’
‘Have you got your phone? Can you figure out where this place is?’
Rutherford tapped his screen then made some swiping and pinching movements. ‘Reacher? Don’t go.’
‘Why not?’
‘I know about this place. It’s an old factory. Just outside town. It’s been abandoned for years. Growing up, there were all kinds of rumours. No one who went in was ever seen again. I never dared go.’