Chapter 23

Pieces of wood were still scattered around from the crates that had been broken in the scuffle. The jade Buddha was still sitting there, half on the floor. But Vidic was gone. The patch of floor where Reacher had left him was bare. There was no doubt about that. Reacher stayed still for a minute. He cast his eyes over every square inch of ground. Over the intact crates. Over the wrecked ones. Then he turned to Paris.

Paris was smiling. More than that. She was grinning. She looked triumphant. She said, "I bet you feel pretty stupid now."

Reacher said, "Stupid, no. Worried, yes."

"Worried because you're going to get fired? Because you screwed up. Big-time. You failed. Admit it."

"What are you talking about?"

"Fletcher was right. Gibson wasn't the agent. You are. You wormed your way in. Got Ivan to trust you. Showed up at the raid. Thought you'd caught everyone. But I wasn't here. You had to come and find me. And while you were gone, Ivan escaped. You'll never catch him again. Your career is toast. There's only one way out of this that I can see. Give me one of those planks. I'll knock you out. You can say Ivan did it. You'll still look pretty incompetent, obviously. But if you're injured, they may take pity on you. Send you to Alaska or make you spend the rest of your career doing cavity searches on drug mules. Face it. You're not getting out of this without some kind of stink on you."

Reacher looked at her and shook his head. He said, "Wow. You're actually crazy."

"Ivan escaped. He's smarter than you. And you just can't admit it. OK, that's your funeral." Paris turned and made for the door.

Reacher said, "I'm not an agent. Vidic didn't escape. And if you don't help me, you'll never see him again."

Paris stopped, turned back, and said, "He didn't escape?" She made a show of looking around the room. "Where is he, then?"

"That's what I'm worried about. You see any plasticuffs anywhere? The remains of any?"

Paris glanced at the floor. "No. So?"

"He couldn't escape without removing the cuffs. You think he hopped out of here? So where are they? No one cuts their cuffs off and then throws them in the trash. They drop them and run. That's Human Nature 101."

"So, what, then? He got rescued?"

Reacher shook his head. "Think again."

"That has to be it. Someone rescued him."

"Who?"

Paris was silent for a moment. Then she said, "Kane's guys. They were watching the other houses. Two minutes away."

"Kane's guys? Then why did they leave Kane?"

"OK. Not Kane's guys. Someone else."

"Not possible. How would anyone else have known Vidic needed to be rescued? This plan only came together minutes before I showed up here."

Paris went quiet again. Then she nodded her head, vigorously, like she'd come upon an absolute certainty. "I know. It was Bowery."

"You said you didn't know where Bowery was."

"I didn't. I still don't. I just know he rescued Ivan. Who else could have gotten into this house? Bowery knew the code for the gate. For the door. And he knew about the cage that slams down."

"How would he have known Vidic was here? He'd have had to be watching the house."

"He was. I went to our place, yesterday, to collect something. But I didn't go in. Because I could feel someone watching me. I didn't know who, at the time. I thought it must be the FBI because that's all anyone was talking about. But now it's obvious. It was Bowery."

"You could feel someone watching?"

"Get off my back. Ivan didn't believe me, either. I bet he feels stupid now. And lucky."

"You say you felt someone watching, I believe you. But why do you think it was Bowery?"

"There are things you don't know about."

"So tell me."

"No." Paris started toward the door again. "Why should I? You're not an agent. You said so. And you're not a cop. You can't keep me here."

"Can't I?"

Paris reached for the handle. "Why would you? You said you wanted Fletcher and Kane. You have them. You've got no quarrel with me. I've done nothing to you."

"If you're wrong, then Vidic is in trouble. And not just him. A woman was here. She's missing, too."

"Why was another woman here? Who is she?"

"Her name is Knight. She's working with me."

"Working with you? So you didn't tie her up?"

Reacher shook his head.

Paris said, "Then it's obvious. She took Ivan."

Reacher said, "No. She's involved because Kane killed her father. If Kane was missing, I'd agree. But she has nothing against Vidic. And what you need to understand is that I like her. So I'm not playing games here. Tell me what you know."

"Then you'll let me go?"

"When you give me what I need."

"Fine. It's like this. It's true, what I said. Ivan and I, and Bowery, were planning to split. Even before we found out about Gibson and Fletcher hit the panic button, we were going to start again, on our own, asshole free. But here's what you have to understand. Businesses change. Things move on. Like Henry Ford said, what gets you to the top doesn't keep you there. So we weren't going to do the same thing over again. We evolved. Found a new model."

"Hacking. Like you did here."

"Not exactly. We're taking it a stage further. Here, we only hacked the basic details. What was here. What it was worth. How it was secured. The same kind of information we used to buy from art dealers and insurance agents. Which meant we still had to do the physical stealing. The dangerous part. As you demonstrated. The new model is different. It's better. I hack information that has value in itself. Then we sell it back to its original owner. It's quicker. It's lower risk. And it's more efficient because you don't need the manpower that's involved in a heist."

"Sounds like old-fashioned blackmail."

"Call it what you like."

"How do you know who to target?"

"We don't. It's like going on the prowl, only electronically. It's random. I spend hours every day, searching. Sometimes a company name catches my eye. Sometimes a website looks creaky and vulnerable."

Reacher thought for a moment. "Let me guess. You did a trial run. Bowery went to collect the payoff."

"Right. He went, but he didn't come back. Ivan thought he stiffed us. But what if that's not what happened? What if he got stiffed and thought we wouldn't believe him? Or he got hurt and needed time to recover. Or the guys we hit came after him. He dropped out of sight, then came back to warn us. Which is why he had to lay low and watch. To make sure they weren't already onto us. And when he saw what you did, and then knew you'd left…"

"So he'd be working alone?"

"I guess."

"Vidic was still unconscious. His cuffs weren't removed because rescuers don't waste time throwing away their trash, either. I can just about see Bowery leaving the cuffs on. He could have figured Vidic would be easier to carry that way. Or that cutting them off would waste a few seconds. But here's the problem. He's alone. He's carrying Vidic. So how did he get Knight to go with him?"

"He surprised her when he came in. Took her hostage."

"And kept her subdued while he searched the house and then carried an unconscious body down a flight of stairs?" Reacher shook his head. "There's no chance that happened. Zero."

"What, then?"

"Talk me through the process. Everything that happened from making contact with your mark to losing touch with Bowery."

"It wasn't complicated. It was agreed Bowery would meet their guy at a diner and exchange the information for the gold."

"Gold? Why not crypto, or whatever you tech guys use?"

Paris shrugged. "That was Ivan's idea. He wanted gold."

"What for?"

"He didn't say. I didn't ask. I didn't care. I just wanted to prove the concept."

"How long between first contact and the sit-down at the diner?"

"Seventy-two hours, give or take."

"Who picked the venue?"

"They did."

"After Bowery dropped off the map, did you visit the diner? Speak to the waitresses? Other customers?"

"No."

"Did Vidic?"

"He thought about it. But when Bowery didn't come back, Fletcher got all hysterical. He thought every shadow was an agent. Every passing car was a spy. Ivan figured dropping out of sight to investigate would be too risky, at the time."

"OK. One last question. The guys you tried to rip off. What kind of business are they in?"

"Property development. It's a young company. Very active in the market. Constantly acquiring rivals. Taking on new projects. Their growth is phenomenal. So's their profit. Investors can't get enough."

"Sounds too good to be true."

"It is. I found their skeletons. They're booking their new assets for what they think they're going to be worth at the end of the following year. If they meet the projected valuation, great. They take the credit early, make it look like they're growing faster than they are, attract more investment, rinse, repeat. And if they take on a dud that doesn't live up to the forecast, which obviously can happen, they should book the loss. But they don't. They have a whole complex web of subsidiaries and sister companies, and they bounce the toxic asset around between them, hoping that if they keep it moving no one will spot it. But I did. They've built a house of cards and I had the proof."

"And that's what you were going to sell back? The proof?"

"Correct. And for a fair price, considering the hit they'll take if the truth comes out."

"All right. You know what? I think you're half right. Bowery is involved. He did come back. But not voluntarily."

"Why, then?"

"The guys you tried to blackmail didn't want to pay. Or they didn't want the message getting out there that it was OK to rip them off. Maybe both things. So they brought someone in to take care of the problem. Seventy-two hours is plenty of time to get the ball rolling.These problem-solvers had no intention of giving Bowery any gold. They lured him to a location they were familiar with. Captured him. Took him somewhere. And made him give you up."

"No. I don't believe it."

"Everything fits. Bowery tells them who else was involved. Vidic. And you. A woman. Then who did they find in the house? Vidic. He was unconscious, but he's a recognizable guy. And Knight. A woman. Who looks broadly like you. They took her in your place."

"That's awful." Paris clutched her hands and twisted her fingers together. "Do you think they'll come back?"

"It won't take them long to figure out that Knight isn't you."

"Then I better go. Run. Like now."

Reacher stepped across and pushed the door shut. He kept his palm flat against its surface and said, "Do you have a pen in your purse?"

"What? Yes. Why?"

"Leaving your friend to get tortured to death is one thing. He chose to be part of this. But Knight didn't. Turning your back on her is unacceptable. So either you stay and help me figure out how to find her, or I'll knock you out. Write your name on your forehead in massive letters and leave your body in the hallway. It'll be the first thing those guys trip on when they come in here looking for you."

Paris swallowed hard. "You wouldn't do that. You're bluffing."

Reacher said, "Am I?"

Paris swallowed again. "And anyway, when I said run, I didn't mean, like, run . I meant, take a moment. Regroup, perhaps in a more secure location. And absolutely figure out how to find your friend. And Ivan, too. No way would I abandon him in his hour of need."

"I'm glad to hear that."

"So what do we do next?"

Reacher thought about Knight and all her tricks for tracking people with their phones. He wondered about calling Wallwork and asking him to trace hers. If she had it with her. If it was switched on. But he decided against it. Even if it worked it would take too long. Then he remembered how she'd used Vidic's phone to pinpoint Paris's. Through location sharing, she'd said. Sharing. That implied a two-way street. He could use Paris's phone to find Vidic's. Except he couldn't. Because Vidic didn't have his phone. Reacher did. It was right there in his pocket. It was like he'd learned long ago. There are no shortcuts. So he said, "The property developer guy. How did you communicate with him?"

She said, "Email."

"Does your phone send email?"

"Of course. This isn't the Stone Age."

"OK. Use it to contact the guy. Tell him you're the fourth member of the group. A sleeping partner, brought on board to handle emergencies. Tell him we know his guys are nearby. That's obvious. And now they need to release Bowery, Vidic, and Paris. They need to bring them to the cave. They need to be there in an hour or you'll release the incriminating information to every newspaper and financial website in the western hemisphere."

"I can't. There's no point. It won't work."

"Why not?"

"It's part of the concept we set out to prove. The information we sell is formatted in a special way. The best way I can describe it is that it's similar to an NFT."

"In English?"

"Similar to a non-fungible token. In layman's terms, it means a unique computer file, like an original painting. There can only be one version. There's no point if it can be copied. We could keep going back for more money. The marks would know that. They wouldn't pay."

"Did you use all the information you hacked? Or do you have any left? Even a tiny bit."

"Maybe a snippet."

"Good. Include that. Tell them you have a second tranche that you kept, for insurance. Tell them you're giving them a taste, to prove you're serious, and the rest will go out far and wide if you don't get your people back."

"That might work, I guess."

"Try it. Send the email."

"I can't."

"You just said you could."

"I said my phone could. In theory. But I need an address."

"You sent messages to the guy before?"

"Obviously."

"Then you must have his address."

"Had. I had it."

"How could you lose it? Don't phones and computers remember that kind of thing?"

"Usually. Unless you tell them not to. Which I did."

"Why?"

"Because what I was doing was illegal, Einstein. I didn't want a paper trail leading back to me."

"I thought email addresses are supposed to be easy to remember?"

"They can be. If you want them to be remembered, like the guy's corporate email that I used for our first contact. Then he blocked me from that one and set up a special address for us to use. It's not like he's john-dot-smith-at-blackmail-target-dot-com. There was no name. The domain was disguised. And the rest was just a long string of random numbers and letters."

"It was impossible to remember, and you never wrote it down?"

"Oh yes. I did."

"Where?"

"In my ledger. It's at my house."