The Affair: A Reacher Novel

confused.
    He returned the salute and asked, “Do I know you, major?”
    I said, “That depends on how much trouble you’ve been in, colonel. Have you ever been arrested?”
    He said, “You’re the other MP. You’re Major Munro’s opposite number.”
    “Or he’s mine,” I said. “Either way, I’m sure we both hope you have a great day.”
    “Why are you still here?”
    “Why wouldn’t I be?”
    “I was told all issues had been resolved.”
    “The issues will be resolved when I say they are. That’s the nature of police work.”
    “When did you last get orders?”
    “Some days ago,” I said. “They came from Colonel John James Frazer at the Pentagon, I believe.”
    “He died.”
    “I’m sure his successor will have new orders for me in due course.”
    “It could take weeks to install a successor.”
    “Then I guess I’m stuck here.”
    Silence.
    Then the fat guy said, “Well, stay out of sight tonight. Understand? The senator must not see a CID presence here. There are to be no reminders of recent suspicions. None at all. Is that clear?”
    I said, “Request noted.”
    “It’s more than a request.”
    “Next up from a request is an order. But you’re not in my chain of command.”
    The guy rehearsed a reply, but in the end he didn’t come out with anything. He just turned on his heel and waddled back to his pals. And at that point I heard the phone ring inside the diner, very faintly through the door, and I beat the waitress to it by a step.

Chapter
78
    It was Frances Neagley on the line, from her desk in D.C . She said, “Bouton is a very uncommon name, apparently.”
    I said, “Did Stan Lowrey tell you to say that?”
    “No, Stan wants to know if she’s related to Jim Bouton, the baseball pitcher. Which she probably is, at least distantly, given how rare the name is. I, however, am basing my conclusion on an hour’s solid work, which turned up no Boutons at all, much less any Alice Boutons. Having said that, right now I can’t get any further than three years back with the Marines, which would miss her anyway, and if she was dishonorably discharged she probably didn’t get the kind of job or income that would show up in too many other places.”
    “She probably lives in a trailer park,” I said. “Nowhere near Pendleton, either. Southern California is too expensive. She must have moved.”
    “I have a call in to the FBI. And to a pal in USMC personnel command, for the ancient history. And Stan is hassling his banker friend, for the civilian stuff. Although she might not have had a bank account. Not if she lived in a trailer park. But whatever, I just wanted to let you know we’re on it, that’s all. We’ll have more later.”
    “How much later?”
    “Tonight, I hope.”
    “Before eight o’clock would be good.”
    “I’ll do my best.”
    I hung up the phone and decided to stay in the diner, for lunch.
    And inevitably Deveraux came in less than ten minutes later, in search of her own lunch, and, possibly, in search of me. She stepped inside and paused in front of the window, with the light behind her. Her hair lit up like a halo. Her shirt was very slightly translucent. I could see the curve of her waist. Or sense it, at least. Because I was familiar with it. I could see the swell of her breast.
    She saw me staring, and she started toward me, and I kicked the opposite chair out an inch. She sat down and brought the backlight with her. She smiled and said, “How was your morning?”
    I said, “No, how was yours?”
    “Busy,” she said.
    “Making any progress?”
    “With what?”
    “Your three unsolved homicides.”
    “Apparently the army solved those homicides,” she said. “And I’ll be happy to do something about them as soon as the army shares its information.”
    I said nothing.
    She said, “What?”
    “You don’t seem very interested in finding out who did it, that’s all.”
    “How can I be interested?”
    “The army says it was a civilian.”
    “I understand that.”
    “Do you know who it was?”
    “What?”
    “Do you know who it was?”
    “Are you saying I do?”
    I said, “I’m saying I know how these things work. There are some people you just can’t arrest. Mrs. Lindsay would have been one ofthem, for instance. Suppose she’d gone the other way and gotten tooled up and gone and shot somebody. You wouldn’t have arrested her for it.”
    “What are you saying?”
    “I’m saying in any town there are people the sheriff won’t