One Shot by Lee Child Page B

and watching it. Others were walking. But nobody was using the short route past the memorial tributes, where Barr’s victims had died. Maybe nobody would ever again. Instead everyone was looping the long way around, past the NBC sign. Instinctively, respectfully, fearfully; Reacher wasn’t sure.
    He picked his way among the flowers and sat on the low wall, with the sound of the fountain behind him and the parking garage in front of him. One shoulder was warmed by the sun and the other was cool in the shade. He could feel the leftover sand under his feet. He looked to his left and watched the DMV building’s door. Looked to his right and watched the cars on the raised highway. They tracked through the curve, high up in the air, one after the other, single file, in a single lane. There weren’t many of them. Traffic up there was light, even though First Street itself was already building up to the afternoon rush hour. Then he looked to his left again and saw Helen Rodin sitting down beside him. She was out of breath.
    “I was wrong,” she said. “You
are
a hard man to find.”
    “But you triumphed nonetheless,” he said.
    “Only because I saw you from my window. I ran all the way down, hoping you wouldn’t wander off. That was a half hour after calling all the hotels in town and being told you aren’t registered anywhere.”
    “What hotels don’t know won’t hurt them.”
    “James Barr is waking up. He might be talking tomorrow.”
    “Or he might not.”
    “You know much about head injuries?”
    “Only the ones I cause.”
    “I want you to do something for me.”
    “Like what?” he asked.
    “You can help me,” she said. “With something important.”
    “Can I?”
    “And you can help yourself.”
    He said nothing.
    “I want you to be my evidence analyst,” she said.
    “You’ve got Franklin for that.”
    She shook her head. “Franklin’s too close to his old PD buddies. He won’t be critical enough. He won’t want to tear into them.”
    “And I will? I want Barr to go down, remember.”
    “Exactly. That’s exactly why you should do it. You want to confirm that they’ve got an unbreakable case. Then you can leave town and be happy.”
    “Would I tell you if I found a hole?”
    “I’d see it in your eyes. And I’d know from what you did next. If you go, it’s a strong case. If you stay around, it’s weak.”
    “Franklin quit, didn’t he?”
    She paused, and then she nodded. “This case is a loser, all ways around. I’m doing it pro bono. Because nobody else will. But Franklin’s got a business to run.”
    “So he won’t do it for free, but I will?”
    “You
need
to do it. I think you’re already planning to do it. That’s why you went to see my father first. He’s confident, for sure. You saw that. But you still want a peek at the data. You were a thorough investigator. You said so yourself. You’re a perfectionist. You want to be able to leave town knowing everything is buttoned down tight, according to your own standards.”
    Reacher said nothing.
    “This gets you a real good look,” she said. “It’s their constitutional obligation. They have to show us everything. The defense gets a full discovery process.”
    Reacher said nothing.
    “You’ve got no choice,” she said. “They’re not going to show you anything otherwise. They don’t show stuff to strangers off the street.”
    A real good look. Leave town and be happy. No choice.
    “OK,” Reacher said.
    She pointed. “Walk four blocks west and one block south. The PD is right there. I’ll go upstairs and call Emerson.”
    “We’re doing this now?”
    “James Barr is waking up. I need this stuff out of the way early. I’m going to be spending most of tomorrow trying to find a psychiatrist who will work for free. A medical plea is still our best bet.”

    ______

    Reacher walked four blocks west and one block south. It took him under the raised highway and brought him to a corner. The PD had the whole block.