No Plan B (Jack Reacher, #27)(49)

Reacher paused for a moment, then he talked Hannah through what had happened in Gerrardsville after he witnessed Angela getting pushed in front of the bus. He told her about chasing the guy in the hoodie into the alley. Taking Angela’s purse from him. Looking inside. Finding the envelope. The guy’s partner showing up in the stolen BMW. And how they got away when the fire escape collapsed.

Hannah punched Reacher in the shoulder. “Why keep all that a secret? I’ve gone way out on a limb for you. I don’t deserve to be kept in the dark.”

Reacher shrugged. “Suppose those guys show up in the hospital sometime soon. Or at the morgue.”

Hannah was silent for a moment. “Fair, I guess. I can see why you wouldn’t want to advertise a grudge against them. But that’s not the key point here. You hurt a couple of Minerva’s guys. Maybe saw some incriminating evidence. That’s reason for them to come after you. Not the other way around. So why are they expecting you? What else are you holding back?”

“Nothing.”

“You swear?”

Reacher nodded.

“OK,” Hannah said. “Maybe they know you connected them to the murders?”

Reacher shook his head. “I told the Gerrardsville police that Angela didn’t kill herself but I hadn’t factored Minerva in, back then. And the police ignored me, anyway. Angela’s file is closed. So is Sam’s.”

“Then it has to be about Angela’s purse. The Minerva guys took it, so there had to be something important inside.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. They might have thought something important was. They might have hoped. Doesn’t mean it was there.”

“Tell me again what was in her purse?”

Reacher listed everything he had seen.

“Could anything have been sewn into the lining?”

“I was a military cop. I know where people hide things.”

“So we’re back to the envelope. Tell me about that again.”

“It held a file on a guy called Anton Begovic. Wrongly convicted, due for release tomorrow. Minerva sponsored his appeal.”

“Those jackasses.”

“There’s something wrong with setting an innocent man free?”

“No. Of course not. It’s just—Minerva. With them everything’s about PR. Their head dude is a guy called Bruno Hix. He’s notorious. He doesn’t take a dump without bringing in an image consultant to exploit it. I bet they got some lawyer who owed them a favor to do the appeal work for free. Then they’ll stage a huge hullabaloo and make it look like the whole corporation is run by saints and angels and it’ll cost them nothing. Sam was always suspicious of them.”

“Why?”

“If something sounds too good to be true, then it isn’t true. That’s what he always said. Like with their wages. They pay twenty-five percent above the industry average, across the board. They made sure everyone knows about it. Then they make sure no one gets any overtime.”

“Where did—”

“Wait! I have an idea. What if this Begovic guy isn’t really innocent? What if he paid Minerva to help fix the appeal? Or his family did? Minerva could have tried to wash the money through the books. Not very well. And Angela could have smelled the rat.”

“If there is dirty money, why would they let it anywhere near the business? Why not take it in cash?”

Hannah shook her head. “See, that’s the kind of question you only ask if you’ve never bought a house. Or a car. Or a spare pair of pants. A big heap of cash is the biggest red flag there is. You’d have the IRS so far up your ass you’d see them when you brush your teeth. No. I think I’m on to something. And you clearly shouldn’t be let out on your own. So here’s the deal. I’m coming with you. But while you’re busy degrading the enemy or whatever, I’ll hang back at the hotel. I’ll dig into Begovic’s background. Find out all about his conviction. His appeal. What it was based on. Why it took so long. I’ll maybe talk to some of Sam’s contacts. Tap into the industry scuttlebutt. Find the real story.”





Chapter 27


Five words were ringing in Jed Starmer’s ears as he crouched between a pair of dumpsters in an alley on the other side of the Greyhound station: I’m a law enforcement officer.

The guy’s voice had been a little muffled from where he lay on the floor of the car but Jed was sure about what he heard. Although he wasn’t sure what kind of officer the guy was. He hadn’t been wearing a uniform. Neither had his partner. So Jed figured they must be detectives. Or FBI agents. Something high up. Important. But he wasn’t too concerned about which organization they belonged to. Or what rank they held. He was just glad they had shown up when they did. He had no idea what the scruffy guys had wanted with him but it didn’t take a clairvoyant to see it wasn’t going to be anything good.

Jed was glad the officers had shown up, but at the same time he was horrified. Because it meant they must have been looking for him. That was certainly what it sounded like from the exchanges he overheard. The guy from his first bus must have called them. After they finished their breakfast in Dallas. He’d kept nagging Jed about going to the police. When Jed refused the guy must have taken matters into his own hands. Which meant Jed would have to change his plans. He had been intending to sleep on the seats in the Greyhound station that night and then make his way to Winson the next morning. He couldn’t risk staying in town now. Not in a public place. Not somewhere out in the open. He had no option. He had to leave. Immediately.