61 Hours

to leave. The cop cars had their doors open. Reacher could hear furious radio chatter. The cops from the house threw themselves into the cars and the cars spun their wheels and slewed and churned away down the street. Reacher watched them go. Then he stepped back and closed the front door. His borrowed coat had fallen to the floor in the scramble. He put it back on a hook. It hung all alone on the rack.
    The siren wailed on.
    But the house went absolutely silent.
    The house stayed silent for less than a minute. Then over the sound of the siren Reacher heard the patter of chains on snow and the grind of a big engine revving fast and urgent in a low gear. He checked the parlour window. Bright headlights. A Crown Vic. Unmarked. Black or dark blue. Hard to say, in the moonlight. It crunched to a stop at the end of the driveway and Chief Holland climbed out. Parka, hat, boots. Reacher tucked his gun in his waistband at the back and draped his sweater over it. He stepped out to the hallway. He opened the front door just as Holland made it up on the porch.
    Holland looked surprised.
    He said, ‘I didn’t know you were here.’
    Reacher said, ‘It made more sense. There are empty beds here and Kim Peterson doesn’t need protection.’
    ‘Was this Andrew’s idea or yours?’
    ‘Mine.’
    ‘Is Mrs Salter OK?’
    ‘She’s fine.’
    ‘Let me see her.’
    Reacher stepped back and Holland stepped in and closed the door. Janet Salter came out of the parlour. Holland asked her, ‘Are you OK?’
    She nodded. She said, ‘I’m fine. And I’m very grateful that you came. I appreciate it very much. But really you should be on your way to the prison.’
    Holland nodded. ‘I was. But I didn’t want you to be alone.’
    ‘Rules are rules.’
    ‘Even so.’
    ‘I’ll be fine. I’m sure Mr Reacher will prove more than capable.’
    Holland glanced back at Reacher. Wretched conflict in his face, just like the cop from the hallway. Reacher asked him, ‘What’s happening up there?’
    Holland said, ‘Blacks and whites having at it. A regular prison riot.’
    ‘First ever?’
    ‘Correct.’
    ‘Great timing.’
    ‘Tell me about it.’
    ‘Bottom line, what happens if you don’t go?’
    ‘The department is disgraced, and I get fired. After that, no one really knows.’
    ‘So go.’
    ‘I don’t want to.’ A simple statement. The way Holland said it and the way he stood there afterwards made Reacher think he had more on his mind than his duty to Mrs Salter. He wanted to stay indoors, comfortable, in the warm, where he was safe.
    Holland was scared.
    Reacher asked him, ‘Have you ever worked a prison before?’
    Holland said, ‘No.’
    ‘There’s nothing to it. You’ll be on the fence and in the towers. Anyone tries to get through, you shoot them dead. Simple as that. They know the rules. And they won’t try, anyway. Not at a moment’s notice in this kind of weather. They’ll stay inside, fighting. They’ll burn out eventually. They always do. You’re going to get cold and bored, but that’s all.’
    ‘Have you worked prisons?’
    ‘I’ve worked everything. Including personal protection. And with all due respect, I can do at least as good a job as you. So you should let me. That way everyone wins.’
    ‘I don’t know.’
    ‘I can look after the situation here, you can take care of your people up there.’
    ‘It could last for hours. Even days.’
    ‘Actually it could last for weeks. But if it looks like it’s going to, then you can regroup.’
    ‘You think?’
    Reacher nodded. ‘You can’t work around the clock for days on end. Not all of you. No one could expect that. You can establish some flexibility after the first panic is over.’
    Holland didn’t answer. Outside the siren suddenly died. It just cut off mid-wail and absolute silence came crashing back. A total absence of sound, like the air itself was refreezing.
    Reacher said, ‘That probably means you’re all supposed to be up there by now.’
    Holland nodded, slow and unsure, once, then twice. He looked at Janet Salter and said, ‘At least come with me in the car. I need to know you’re safe.’
    Janet Salter said, ‘That’s not permitted, Chief Holland. Rules are rules. But don’t worry. I’ll be safe here, with Mr Reacher.’
    Holland stood still a moment longer. Then he nodded a third time, more decisively. His mind was made up. He turned abruptly and headed out the door. His car was still running. A thin cloud of exhaust was