Without Fail

development. It was like half-expecting a rotten tomato to be thrown at me one day and getting a nuclear missile instead. I thought the world had gone mad. You want to blame me for not speaking out, OK, go ahead and blame me, but how could I have known? How could I have predicted this kind of insanity?”
    Silence for a beat.
    “So that’s my guilty secret,” Armstrong said. “Not that I did anything wrong thirty years ago. But that I didn’t have the right kind of imagination to see the implications of the package three weeks ago.”
    Nobody spoke.
    “Should I tell Stuyvesant now?” Armstrong asked.
    “Your choice,” Reacher said.
    There was a long pause. Armstrong the man faded away again, and Armstrong the politician came back to replace him.
    “I don’t want to tell him,” he said. “Bad for him, bad for me. People have suffered and died. It’ll be seen as a serious misjudgment on both our parts. He should have asked, I should have told.”
    Reacher nodded. “So leave it to us. You’ll know our secret and we’ll know yours.”
    “And we’ll all live happily ever after.”
    “Well, we’ll all live,” Reacher said.
    “Descriptions?” Neagley asked.
    “Just kids,” Armstrong said. “Maybe my age. I only remember their eyes.”
    “What’s the name of the town?”
    “Underwood, Oregon,” Armstrong said. “Where my mother still lives. Where I’m going in an hour.”
    “And these kids were from the area?”
    Armstrong glanced at Reacher. “And you predicted they’ll go home to wait.”
    “Yes,” Reacher said. “I did.”
    “And I’m heading right there.”
    “Don’t worry about it,” Reacher said. “That theory is way out of date now. I assume they expected you’d remember them, and I assume they didn’t anticipate the communication breakdown between yourself and the Secret Service. And they wouldn’t want you to be able to lead them right to their door. Therefore their door has changed. They don’t live in Oregon anymore. That’s one thing we can be absolutely sure of.”
    “So how are you going to find them?”
    Reacher shook his head. “We can’t find them. Not now. Not in time. They’ll have to find us. In Wyoming. At the memorial service.”
    “I’m going there too. With minimal cover.”
    “So just hope it’s all over before you arrive.”
    “Should I tell Stuyvesant?” Armstrong asked again.
    “Your choice,” Reacher said again.
    “I can’t cancel the appearance. That wouldn’t be right.”
    “No,” Reacher said. “I guess it wouldn’t.”
    “I can’t tell Stuyvesant now.”
    “No,” Reacher said. “I guess you can’t.”
    Armstrong said nothing. Reacher stood up to leave, and Neagley did the same.
    “One last thing,” Reacher said. “We think these guys grew up to be cops.”
    Armstrong sat still. He started to shake his head, but then he stopped and looked down at the desk. His face clouded, like he was hearing a faint thirty-year-old echo.
    “Something during the beating,” he said. “I only half-heard it, and I’m sure I discounted it at the time. But I think at one point they claimed their dad was a cop. They said he could get us in big trouble.”
    Reacher said nothing.

    The protection agents showed them out. They walked the length of the canvas tent and stepped off the curb into the street. Turned east and got back on the sidewalk and settled in for the trek to the subway. It was late morning and the air was clear and cold. The neighborhood was deserted. Nobody was out walking. Neagley opened the envelope Stuyvesant had given her. It contained a check for five thousand dollars. The memo line was written up as professional consultation . Reacher’s envelope contained two checks. One was for the same five-grand fee and the other was for his audit expenses, repaid to the exact penny.
    “We should go shopping,” Neagley said. “We can’t go hunting in Wyoming dressed like this.”
    “I don’t want you to come with me,” Reacher said.

17
    They had the argument right there on the street as they walked through Georgetown.
    “Worried about my safety?” Neagley asked. “Because you shouldn’t be. Nothing’s going to happen to me. I can look after myself. And I can make my own decisions.”
    “I’m not worried about your safety,” Reacher said.
    “What then? My performance? I’m way better than you.”
    “I know you are.”
    “So what’s your problem?”
    “Your license. You’ve got something to