“This is even more important. Even more urgent. I need to know if anyone of interest to the Bureau has been acquiring quantities of gold. If so, where is it? And I need the answers yesterday.”
“How am I going to find that out?”
“I don’t know. Think outside of your box.”
—
Knight waved toa taxi that was stuck on the far side of the lights then turned to Reacher. She said, “Why are you asking about gold?”
Reacher said, “Something about the way Vidic’s deal went south. It doesn’t ring true.”
“So what does gold have to do with it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. But for the test run with the property guys Vidic insisted on payment in gold. I thought that was weird at the time. If he changed what he wants now, that’s weird, too.”
“Maybe he changed because asking for gold the first time was a fiasco. Or maybe because this deal was set up in a hurry. Not a lot of people have a ton of gold lying around.”
“Like I said, it could be nothing.”
The light changed. The cab crossed the intersection and pulled up next to them. Knight opened its rear door. She said, “The airport, please.” Then she turned back to Reacher. “Are you coming?”
Reacher said, “I’ll ride to the airport with you. But I’m not going to Chicago.”
The cabdriver set his meter running then pulled away from the curb. He tapped a white plastic device in his right ear and began talking, soft but fast, in a language Reacher didn’t recognize. Reacher watched the Arch until it disappeared from view then turned to Knight. He said, “Ever had a case that came together like dominoes falling? One fact after another, neat and tidy, nothing out of place?”
Knight nodded. “Once or twice.”
“How did they turn out?”
“Badly. One was a murder case. A rich guy strangled his wife afteran argument over a pair of shoes got out of hand. He paid some poor guy who had terminal cancer to take the fall in return for putting the guy’s four kids through college. The other was a woman who was running for her local school board. She planted porn on a rival’s computer to try and knock her out of the race.”
“So when a case seems too good to be true?”
“It usually isn’t true. I have to admit, the Bureau melting down over this report and a lead popping up the very next day? That’s a little convenient.”
“Paris is such a skilled hacker, she can get into the computers of a defense contractor with top level clearance, but she can’t keep her email secure?”
“A woman who encrypts her private records with some complex code but doesn’t put a password on a priceless document?”
“And why did Vidic set out driving in the wrong direction, then turn around and fly to St. Louis? It would have been quicker to drive directly there from the house, like we did. And more discreet. No passenger manifests or credit card transactions for the Bureau to comb through.”
“He did use a fake ID for the flight, though.”
“Right. Which could be the smartest part of the plan. He had the IDs in his wallet when I knocked him out. He guessed that I would have searched him while he was unconscious. And that I would have seen the selection of names he could use.”
“He couldn’t be sure you’d do that.”
“True. But most people project their own actions onto others when they’re trying to anticipate what they might do. So the question is, what would Vidic do in that situation? And we don’t even have to speculate. We know the answer because of what he did when he pulled me out of the car wreck. He looked in my wallet. My passport. The first thing he did when I ran into him was use my name.”
“So Vidic wanted to be followed to St. Louis.”
“I think so.”
“Which means he wanted the deal to tank. He wanted the FBI to retrieve the report.”
“Looks that way.”
“Because, what? He realized how hot the report is? He figured that as long as it was unaccounted for the Bureau would never stop looking for him. Which would put a dent in his plan to start over somewhere new with Paris and set up their hack and blackmail racket. Maybe he figured the smart play was to burn the report. Trade the short-term pain for the long-term gain.”