Blue Moon

Abby backed into a space and parked. She and Reacher got out and walked to the door. Only two guys were at their desks. No sign of Isaac Mehay-Byford. Just Julian Harvey Wood and Gino Vettoretto. Harvard and Yale. Good enough. They greeted Reacher and shook Abby’s hand and said they were pleased to meet her.

Reacher said, “What if Max Trulenko has hidden money stashed away?”

“That’s Isaac’s theory,” Gino said.

“There’s always a rumor like that,” Julian said.

“I think this time it’s true,” Reacher said. “Last night I dropped Trulenko’s name to the doorman where Abby works. About three minutes later four guys showed up in two cars. Which was a pretty impressive response. It was platinum-level protection. These guys don’t do anything except for cash. Therefore Trulenko is paying them. Top dollar, to get four guys in two cars inside three minutes. Therefore he still has money of his own.”

“What happened with the four guys?” Gino asked.

“They lost me,” Reacher said. “But along the way I think they might have proved Isaac’s point.”

“Do you know where Trulenko is?” Julian asked.

“Not precisely.”

“We would need an address, to serve the papers. And to get his bank accounts frozen. How much money do you suppose he has?”

“I have no idea,” Reacher said. “More than me, I’m sure. More than the Shevicks, I’m damn sure.”

“I guess we would sue him for a hundred million dollars, and settle for whatever he has left. With a bit of luck it will be enough.”

Reacher nodded. Then he asked what he had come to ask. He said, “How long would all that take?”

Gino said, “They would never go to court. They couldn’t afford to. They know they would lose. They would settle ahead of a trial. They would beg us to let them. It would be lawyer to lawyer, back and forth, mostly by e-mail. The only issue would be letting Trulenko keep a couple cents on the dollar, so he doesn’t have to live under a bridge the rest of his life.”

“How long would all that take?” Reacher asked again.

“Six months,” Julian said. “Certainly no more than that.”

The law moves slow, Maria Shevick had said, many times.

“No way of hurrying it along?”

“That is hurrying it along.”

“OK,” Reacher said. “Say hey to Isaac for me.”

They hustled back to the Toyota. It was still there. Unnoticed, unwatched, unsurrounded, and unticketed. They got in. Abby said, “It’s like one movie is playing in slow motion, and the other one is running all speeded up.”

Reacher said nothing.

Abby’s place was close by in terms of physical distance, but it was three sides of a square away in terms of one-way streets. They came on it from the north.

There was a car outside the door.

Parked on the curb. A black Lincoln, facing away. It had dark glass in the rear compartment. From a distance it was impossible to tell who was inside.

“Pull over,” Reacher said.

Abby stopped thirty yards north of the Lincoln.

Reacher said, “Worst case there are two guys in it and I bet their doors are locked.”

“What would the army tell you to do?”

“Fire armor-piercing rounds in sufficient quantity to subdue resistance. And then fire tracer at the gas tank in sufficient quantity to subdue evidence.”

“We can’t do that.”

“Sadly. But we better do something. That’s your house. They’re poking their noses where they don’t belong.”

“Safer to ignore them, surely.”

“Only in the short term,” Reacher said. “We can’t let them have it all their own way. We need to send a message. They’re out of line. They squeezed your address out of an innocent couple with enough taste to hire you and book that band. They need to know there are certain things they shouldn’t do. And they need to know they’re messing with the wrong people. We need to scare them a little bit.”

Abby was quiet a beat.

“You’re nuts,” she said. “You’re one guy. You can’t take them on.”

“Someone has to. I’m used to it. I was a military policeman. I got all the lousy jobs.”

She was quiet another beat.

“Your concern is their doors are locked,” she said. “Because if they are, you can’t get to them.”

“Correct,” Reacher said.

“I could walk around the block and go in the back door. I could turn on all the lights inside. That might get them out of the car for you.”

“No,” Reacher said.

“OK, I could leave the lights off and at least get my stuff.”

“No,” Reacher said again. “For the same reason. They might be waiting inside the house. The car could be empty. Or one and one.”

“That’s creepy.”

“I told you. There are certain things they shouldn’t do.”

“I could live without my stuff. I mean, you do. It’s clearly possible. It could be part of the experiment.”

“No,” Reacher said again. “It’s a free country. If you want your stuff, you should have it. And if they need a message, they should get one.”

“OK, works for me. But how do we do it?”

“That depends on how experimental you want to be.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I’m pretty sure it will work out fine.”

“What will?”

“But you’ll probably worry about it ahead of time.”

“Try me.”