The Affair_ A Reacher Novel - Lee Child [140]
I came in the door and stopped by the phone and the waitress shook her head at me, to tell me there had been no incoming calls. I used the phone book and found the number for Brannan’s bar, and then I put a quarter in the slot and dialed. One of the Brannan brothers answered and I said, “Let me speak to the sergeant.”
I heard a second of surprise and uncertainty, and then I heard the phone being reversed on the bar, and I heard the click of nails and the thump of palms as the receiver was passed from hand to hand, and then a voice said, “Who is this?”
I said, “This is the guy you’re looking for. I’m in the diner.”
No answer.
I said, “This is the part where you want to put your hand over the mouthpiece long enough to ask the barmen where the diner is, so you can send your guys to check while you keep me talking on the phone. But I’ll save you the trouble. The diner is about twenty yards west of you and about fifty yards north. Send one guy through the alley on your left and the other counterclockwise out of the lot and around the Sheriff’s Department building. You personally can come in through the kitchen door, which should be pretty close to where you parked your truck. That way you’ve got me covered in every direction. But don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait for you right here. You’ll find me at a table in back.”
Then I hung up and walked to the rearmost table for four.
Chapter
82
The sergeant was the first in. Shortest distance, biggest investment. He came through the kitchen door slowly and cautiously and let it swing shut behind him. I raised my hand in greeting. I was about seven feet away from him. Then one of the specialists came in the front. From the alley, I assumed. Second shortest distance. A minute later the third guy was there, a little out of breath. Longest distance, biggest hurry.
They stood there, filling the aisle, two to my right and one to my left.
“Sit down,” I said. “Please.”
The sergeant said, “Our orders are to take you to Kelham.”
I said, “That isn’t going to happen, sergeant.”
No answer.
The clock in my head showed a quarter to eight.
I said, “Here’s the thing, guys. To take me out of here against my will would involve a considerable amount of physical commotion. At a rough guess we would bust up at least three or four tables and chairs. There might be personal injuries too. And the waitress will assume we’re Bravo Company personnel. Because no one else from Kelham has leave right now. Believe me, she keeps track of stuff like that, because her income depends on it. And she knows Bravo’s company commander is expected right there in Brannan’s bar at any minute. So it would be entirely natural for her to head around there to complain. And to get that done she’d almost certainly have to interrupt a moment of intimacy between father and son. Which would be a big embarrassment for all concerned, especially you.”
No answer.
“Sit down, guys,” I said.
They sat down. But not where I wanted them to. They weren’t dumb. That was the problem with a volunteer army. There were selection criteria. I was in an aisle seat at my table for four, facing forward. If they had all joined me at the same table, I would have had freedom of movement. But they didn’t all join me at the same table. The sergeant sat down face to face with me, but the specialists sat across the aisle, one each side of a table for two. They pulled their chairs out at an angle, one of them ready to intervene if I made a break one way, and the other ready if I broke the other way.
“You should try the pie,” I said. “It’s really good.”
“No pie,” the sergeant said.
“You better order something. Or the waitress might throw you out for loitering. And if you refuse to go, she knows who to call.”
No answer.
I said, “There are members of the public here, too. You really can’t afford to attract attention.”
Stalemate.
Ten minutes to eight.
The phone by the door stayed silent.
The waitress came by and the sergeant shrugged and ordered three pies and three cups of coffee. Two more