Night School by Lee Child
“Who’s the O-5 who won’t say where he was?”
“Infantry commander.”
“Did you ask around?”
The world’s most efficient grapevine.
“He’s solid,” Neagley said. “But he didn’t see much in the Gulf and now he’s staring east through the mist at the Soviets, except they’re long gone. So he’s frustrated. And he’s occasionally vocal about it.”
“A malcontent.”
“But not the worst ever.”
“Why don’t they know where he was?”
“He wrote himself a roving brief. Research into new weapons and tactics. All that kind of bullshit. The future is flexible and lightweight and so on. He travels extensively. Normally he doesn’t have to say where. But this time they asked him and got nothing out of him.”
“Where is he now?”
“They sent him home. Because the question came out of the West Wing. It’s the commander in chief asking. No one knows what to do next. No one knows if it’s something or nothing.”
“We should put those words on our unit patch. Like a motto on a scroll below two crossed question marks.”
“I’m sure the guy is billeted close to the Pentagon. He’s got high-level discussions in his future, I’m certain of that. We can find him if you want to talk to him.”
Then she said, “Wait.”
She dug through her pile of lists.
She said, “Wait a damn minute.”
She found the right list. She checked it once, and she checked it again.
She said, “I know where he was a week before.”
Reacher read the list upside down. Names and flight numbers. Thirty-six Americans. Vanderbilt’s work.
“Zurich,” he said.
Neagley nodded. “Exactly seven days ahead of the rendezvous, arriving in time for afternoon coffee, and getting back again late, after dinner. But he can’t be our guy. Our guy would have a cover story for the day in question. Wouldn’t he? He would lie. He wouldn’t just clam up. What does he think we’re going to do? Take his word as a gentleman?”
Reacher said, “Find out where he is. Make sure they know it’s the commander in chief asking. Tell them we’re coming over to pick the guy up. Tell them we’re going to take him for a ride around the block in the back of our car.”
—
The guy was at Myer, in a billet in their visiting officers’ quarters. Reacher figured the new get-in-the-car orders would have hit about twenty minutes previously, probably via the Joint Chiefs’ office. Which would have added to their gravity. He figured the guy would have either run away right then or gotten ready. Turned out he had gotten ready. He stepped out his door as soon as the black Caprice pulled to a stop at his curb.
Neagley was driving, and Reacher was in the back, on the right side. The guy climbed aboard and sat behind Neagley, upright, back straight, hands on his knees, like he was in a pew and everyone was watching. His name was Bartley. He was the wrong side of forty, but not by much. He was average height and lean. A stamina guy. Endurance, not strength. Just starting to lose it. A leader of men, but not as down-in-the-mud credible as he once had been. He was in battledress uniform, nicely creased. He smelled of soap.
Reacher said, “Repeat your orders for me, if you would, colonel.”
Bartley said, “I am to get into a vehicle containing two military police officers, and for avoidance of doubt I am to consider myself legitimately under their jurisdiction at all times, and I am to answer their questions truthfully to the best of my ability, because for further avoidance of doubt I am to consider these orders personal to the commander in chief.”
“He has a way with words, doesn’t he?”
“He was a lawyer.”
“They were all lawyers.”
“What questions do you have?”
Reacher said, “You picked the wrong day to go missing, colonel.”
“I have nothing to say about that.”
“Not even if the commander in chief is asking?”
“It’s a matter of privacy. That day has nothing to do with my professional performance. Nothing to do with my duties.”
“That’s good to know. But I think that’s the point. They want to know what you do in your spare time. You’re a senior officer. There are implications. These things can be either good or bad. You should tell us about it. You risk our imaginations running riot.”
“I have nothing to say.”
“That’s a tactical error. You’re drawing attention. Where there’s smoke there’s fire. This is an event horizon, colonel. This is where it all goes wrong. Possibly for nothing. Possibly for some little thing other guys have gotten away with. But you’re going to crash and burn. Best case, you’re going to stall. Best case, you’re going to get an asterisk against your name forever. As in, we can’t be sure about that guy.”
Bartley rubbed his palms against his pants legs and said nothing.
Reacher said, “I don’t care what you did. Except if it was one particular thing. But I don’t think it was. I mean, what are the odds?”
“I’m sure it wasn’t that thing.”
“There you go.”
“There’s no reason for you to be interested in me.”
“I’m sure you’re right. But I have to look people in the eye and give them an honest opinion. If it wasn’t that thing, then I’m happy to say so, and nothing more. I’m happy to say don’t ask, it was something else altogether. Your secret stays here. But first I need to know what kind of something else it was. Because I need to be convincing. I need to speak with the kind of confidence and authority that comes from a solid foundation of facts.”
“It was nothing of importance.”
“This is make or break, colonel. When you’re in a hole, you should stop digging. I truly don’t care what it is. I won’t even report it. Sex, drugs, or rock and roll, I don’t give a damn. As long as it’s not that one particular thing. Which we agree is unlikely. All I really want is to ask you a completely different question. Something else entirely.”
“What question?”
“This is not it, OK? This is just a little supplementary first. A minor inquiry. Like batting practice. Do you go to Zurich every week?”
The guy said nothing.
Reacher said, “It’s a simple answer, colonel. The truth can set you free. One little word, and you can move on up without a stain on your character. Or not.”
Bartley said, “I go most weeks.”
“Including the day they’re asking about?”
“Yes.”
“Still got the plane ticket?”
“Yes.”
“Arrive after lunch, leave after dinner?”
“Yes.”
“You go to a bank?”
“Yes.”
“With what?”
“Money, of course. But all of it mine. All of it legal.”
“Care to explain?”
“What happens if I do?”
“Depends what it is. Depends if it disrespects the uniform.”
“What if it does?”
“You take your chances.”
Bartley said nothing.
Reacher said, “You figure it out, colonel. You’re a smart guy. I’m sure you have a postgraduate degree. This is not splitting the atom. The order to get in this car came from the White House through the Joint Chiefs. Therefore who are we working for?”
“The National Security Council.”
“How bad can they hurt you?”
“Very bad.”
“Worse than you can imagine. A million times worse than a scandal about carrying money to Switzerland. If it is a scandal. Which it might not be. Not if it’s all yours, and it’s all legal. Which you said it was.”
“I’m hiding it from my wife. I’m going to divorce her.”
“She done you wrong?”
“No.”
“But you’re taking the money anyway.”
“I earned it.”