Running Blind (The Visitor)

nearer fifteen minutes than ten. Then the buzzer from the street sounded and the Bureau guy went to answer it. He clicked the door release and moved out to the hallway. Jodie sat still and passive, like a guest in her own apartment. Reacher heard the whine of the elevator. He heard it stop. He heard the apartment door open. He heard footsteps on the maple floor.
    Alan Deerfield walked into the kitchen. He was in a dark raincoat with the collar turned up. He was moving energetically and he had sidewalk grit on the soles of his shoes and it made him loud and invasive.
    “I got six people dead in my city,” he said. He saw the Times on the counter and walked over and folded it back to reveal the headline. “So I got a couple questions, naturally.”
    Reacher looked at him. “What questions?”
    Deerfield looked back. “Delicate questions.”
    “So ask them.”
    Deerfield nodded. “First question is for Ms. Jacob.”
    Jodie stirred in her chair. Didn’t look up.
    “What’s the question?” she said.
    “Where have you been, the last few days?”
    “Out of town,” she said. “On business.”
    “Where out of town?”
    “London. Client conference.”
    “London, England?”
    “As opposed to what other Londons?”
    Deerfield shrugged. “London, Kentucky? London, Ohio? There’s a London somewhere in Canada too, I believe. Ontario, maybe.”
    “London, England,” Jodie said.
    “You got clients in London, England?”
    Jodie was still looking at the floor. “We’ve got clients everywhere. Especially in London, England.”
    Deerfield nodded. “You go by the Concorde?”
    She looked up. “Yes I did, as a matter of fact.”
    “Real quick, right?”
    Jodie nodded. “Quick enough.”
    “But expensive.”
    “I guess.”
    “But worth it for a partner on important business.”
    Jodie looked at him. “I’m not a partner.”
    Deerfield smiled. “Even better, right? They put an associate on the Concorde, got to mean something. Must mean they like you. Must mean you’ll be a partner real soon. If nothing comes along and gets in the way.”
    Jodie said nothing in reply.
    “So, London,” Deerfield said. “Reacher knew you were there, right?”
    She shook her head. “No, I didn’t tell him.”
    There was a pause.
    “Scheduled trip?” Deerfield asked.
    Jodie shook her head again. “Last-minute.”
    “And Reacher didn’t know?”
    “I already told you that.”
    “OK,” Deerfield said. “Information is king, is what I say.”
    “I don’t have to tell him where I go.”
    Deerfield smiled. “I’m not talking about what information you give Reacher. I’m talking about what information I get out of a situation. Right now I’m getting he didn’t know where you were.”
    “So?”
    “That should have worried him. And it did worry him. Right after he got to Quantico, he was trying to get you on the phone. Office, home, mobile. That night, same thing again. Calling, calling, calling, couldn’t get you. A worried man.”
    Jodie glanced up at Reacher. Concern in her face, maybe a little apology.
    “I should have told him, I guess.”
    “Hey, that’s up to you. I don’t go around telling people how to conduct their relationships. But the interesting thing is, then he stops calling you. Suddenly he’s not calling you anymore. Now why is that? Did he find out you were safe over there in London, England? ”
    She started to reply, and then she stopped.
    “I’ll take that for a no,” Deerfield said. “You were worried about Petrosian, so you told people in your office to clam up about where you were. So as far as Reacher knew, you were still right here in town. But he’s suddenly not worried anymore. He doesn’t know you’re safe and sound in London, England, but maybe he does know you’re safe and sound because of some other reason, such as maybe he knows Petrosian isn’t going to be around for very much longer.”
    Jodie’s eyes were back on the floor again.
    “He’s a smart guy,” Deerfield said. “My guess is he whistled up some pal of his to set the cat among the pigeons up here in Chinatown, and then he sat back and waited for the tongs to do what they always do when somebody starts messing with them. And he figures he’s safe. He knows we’ll never find his busy little pal, and he figures those Chinese boys aren’t going to tell us diddly, not in a million years, and he knows the exact moment old Petrosian is getting the good news with the machete, he’s locked into a room