Jack Reacher 01 - Killing Floor

hundred yards away. So you use a soft-nose bullet and it blows a hole out of your guy about the size of a garbage can. Your choice.
    The bullets in the box were all soft-nose. OK with me. I checked the weapon over. Brutal, but in fine condition. Everything worked. The grip was engraved with a name. Gray. Same as the file box. The dead detective, the guy before Finlay. Hanged himself last February. Must have been a gun collector. This wasn’t his service piece. No police department in the world would authorize the use of a cannon like this on the job. Altogether too heavy.
    I loaded the dead detective’s big handgun with eight of his shells. Put the spares back in the box and left the box on the floor of the car. Cocked the gun and clicked the safety catch on. Cocked and locked, we used to call it. Saves you a split-second before your first shot. Saves your life, maybe. I put the gun in the Bentley’s walnut glove compartment. It was a tight fit.
    Then I sat for a moment and watched the two guys in their car. They were still watching me. We looked at each other from seventy-five yards away. They were relaxed and comfortable. But they were watching me. I got out of the Bentley and locked it up again. Stepped back to the entrance and pulled the door. Glanced back toward the brown sedan. Still there. Still watching.

    ROSCOE WAS AT HER DESK, TALKING ON THE PHONE. SHE waved. Looked excited. Held her hand up to tell me to wait. I watched the door to the rosewood office. Hoped Teale wouldn’t come out before she finished her call.
    He came out just as she hung up. He was all red in the face. Looked mad. Started stamping around the squad room, banging his heavy stick on the floor. Glaring up at the big empty bulletin board. Finlay stuck his head out of the office and nodded me in. I shrugged at Roscoe and went to see what Finlay had to say.
    “What was that all about?” I asked him.
    He laughed.
    “I was winding him up,” he said. “He asked what we’d been doing, looking at a car. I said we weren’t. Said we’d told Baker we weren’t going far, but he’d misheard it as we’re looking at a car.”
    “Take care, Finlay,” I said. “They’re killing people. This is a big deal.”
    He shrugged.
    “It’s driving me crazy,” he said. “Got to have some fun, right?”
    He’d survived twenty years in Boston. He might survive this.
    “What’s happening with Picard?” I asked him. “You heard from him?”
    “Nothing,” he said. “Just standing by.”
    “No possibility he might have put a couple of guys on surveillance?” I said.
    Finlay shook his head. Looked definite about it.
    “No way,” he said. “Not without telling me first. Why?”
    “There’s a couple of guys watching this place,” I said. “Got here about ten minutes ago. Plain brown sedan. They were at Hubble’s yesterday and around town this morning, asking after me.”
    He shook his head again.
    “They’re not Picard’s,” he said. “He’d have told me.”
    Roscoe came in and shut the door. Held it shut with her hand like Teale might try to burst in after her.
    “I called Detroit,” she said. “It was a Pontiac. Delivered four months ago. Big fleet order for a rental company. DMV is tracing the registration. I told them to get back to Picard up in Atlanta. The rental people might be able to give him the story about where it was rented. We might be getting somewhere.”
    I felt I was getting closer to Joe. Like I was hearing a faint echo.
    “Great,” I said to her. “Good work, Roscoe. I’m out of here. Meet you back here at six. You two stick close together, OK? Watch your backs.”
    “Where are you going?” Finlay said.
    “I’m going for a drive in the country,” I said.
    I left them there in the office and walked back to the entrance. Pushed the door open and stepped outside. Scanned north up the road. The plain sedan was still there, seventy-five yards away. The two guys were still in it. Still watching. I walked over to the Bentley. Unlocked the door and got in. Nosed out of the parking lot and pulled out onto the county road. Wide and slow. Drove slowly past the two guys and carried on north. In the mirror I saw the plain sedan start up. Saw it pull out and turn in the road. It accelerated north and fell in behind me. Like I was towing it on a long invisible rope. I slowed, it slowed. I sped up, it sped up. Like a game.

18
    I DROVE PAST ENO’S DINER AND ROLLED ON NORTH AWAY from town. The plain sedan