Tripwire

reception. They talk to each other. They’re old people, often bored and lonely, I’m afraid.”
    It sounded like a rebuke. Jodie blushed.
    “When did he first mention it?” Reacher asked, quickly.
    “March?” McBannerman said. “April? Soon after he became an outpatient, anyway. Not long before he went to Hawaii.”
    Jodie stared at her, surprised. “He went to Hawaii? I didn’t know that.”
    McBannerman nodded. “He missed an appointment and I asked him what had happened, and he said he’d been to Hawaii, just a couple of days.”
    “Hawaii? Why would he go to Hawaii without telling me?”
    “I don’t know why he went,” McBannerman said.
    “Was he well enough to travel?” Reacher asked her.
    She shook her head.
    “No, and I think he knew it was silly. Maybe that’s why he didn’t mention it.”
    “When did he become an outpatient?” Reacher asked.
    “Beginning of March,” she said.
    “And when did he go to Hawaii?”
    “Middle of April, I think.”
    “OK,” he said. “Can you give us a list of your other patients during that period? March and April? People he might have talked to?”
    McBannerman was already shaking her head.
    “No, I’m sorry, I really can’t do that. It’s a confidentiality issue.”
    She appealed to Jodie with her eyes, doctor to lawyer, woman to woman, a you-know-how-it-is sort of a look. Jodie nodded, sympathetically.
    “Maybe you could just ask your receptionist? You know, see if she saw Dad talking with one of the others out there? That would just be conversational, third-party, no confidentiality issues involved. In my opinion, certainly.”
    McBannerman recognized an impasse when she saw one. She buzzed the intercom and asked the receptionist to step inside. The woman was asked the question, and she started nodding busily and answering before it was even finished.
    “Yes, of course, Mr. Garber was always talking to that nice elderly couple, you know, the man with the dodgy valve? Upper right ventricle? Can’t drive anymore so his wife brings him in every time? In that awful old car? Mr. Garber was doing something for them, I’m absolutely sure of it. They were always showing him old photographs and pieces of paper.”
    “The Hobies?” McBannerman asked her.
    “That’s right, they all got to be thick as thieves together, the three of them, Mr. Garber and old Mr. and Mrs. Hobie.”

6
    HOOK HOBIE WAS alone in his inner office, eighty-eight floors up, listening to the quiet background sounds of the giant building, thinking hard, changing his mind. He was not an inflexible guy. He prided himself on that. He admired the way he could change and adapt and listen and learn. He felt it gave him his edge, made him distinctive.
    He had gone to Vietnam more or less completely unaware of his capabilities. More or less completely unaware of everything, because he had been very young. And not just very young, but also straight out of a background that was repressed and conducted in a quiet suburban vacuum that held no scope for anything much in the way of experience.
    Vietnam changed him. It could have broken him. It broke plenty of other guys. All around him, there were guys going to pieces. Not just the kids like him, but the older guys, too, the long-service professionals who had been in the Army for years. Vietnam fell on people like a weight, and some of them cracked, and some of them didn’t.
    He didn’t. He just looked around, and changed and adapted. Listened and learned. Killing was easy. He was a guy who had never seen anything dead before apart from roadkill, the chipmunks and the rabbits and the occasional stinking skunk on the leafy lanes near his home. First day in-country in ‘Nam he saw eight American corpses. It was a foot patrol neatly triangulated by mortar fire. Eight men, twenty-nine pieces, some of them large. A defining moment. His buddies were going quiet and throwing up and groaning in sheer abject miserable disbelief. He was unmoved.
    He started out as a trader. Everybody wanted something. Everybody was moaning about what they didn’t have. It was absurdly easy. All it took was a little listening. Here was a guy who smoked but didn’t drink. There was a guy who loved beer but didn’t smoke. Take the cigarettes from the one guy and exchange them for the other guy’s beer. Broker the deal. Keep a small percentage back for yourself. It was so easy and so obvious he couldn’t believe they weren’t doing it for themselves. He