Page 7 of In Too Deep

Reacher expected that the doorVidic pushed through would lead to some kind of concealed exit, but it just opened onto another room. A small one. Not much bigger than a generous closet. The air inside it was stale. It was heavy with cheap aftershave and a hint of secondhand cigar smoke. A blackout blind was pulled across its window so the only light in the place came from a computer monitor on a battered metal desk that was shoved against the wall. The monitor looked bigger than normal, Reacher thought. More like a modest TV screen. Its display was divided into rectangles. There were three rows of four. Each of the images showed part of a building. Nine were interior shots. Three were exterior. Nothing was moving in any of them. There was no sign of any people. No one to capture and interrogate. Reacher was disappointed.

Vidic leaned down and fiddled with the computer’s mouse until the display rearranged itself. Ten of the rectangles disappeared. The remaining pair expanded until together they filled the screen. Both showed an external view. The one on the left covered a white Jeepsitting on a curved gravel driveway that was hemmed in by tall bushes with large pale leaves. The one on the right showed a formal garden. Reacher assumed it would have been immaculate at one time, but now the various plants were running wild with neglect.

Vidic gestured to an office chair near the desk. One arm was missing and its mesh seat was saggy and loose. He said, “Want to sit?”

Reacher shook his head.

“Smart choice.” Vidic kept his gaze on the screen. “So you were right. I am trying to save my own ass. I can’t have you anywhere near Fletcher or Kane. It’s too big of a risk. If they find out I helped you, or if they figure it out, I’m dead meat. But there’s something else you need to know.” Vidic lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’m going to disappear. Very soon.”

“Why would I care?”

“Because when I do it won’t matter what you tell Fletcher. It won’t matter what conclusions he jumps to. So here’s the deal. You sit tight for twenty-four hours. Forty-eight, tops. Then I’ll give you Fletcher and Kane on a plate. With a cherry on top. They have a job planned. A big one. Not far from here. They’re going to have to bring it forward now that we know the Feds are breathing down their necks. I’ll find out when. Give you the address. You can catch them in the act. Deal with them yourself. Take the proceeds. Or not. Call the cops if you prefer. Lead the Feds there. Whatever you want to do. I won’t care because I’ll be in the wind. Nothing will be able to blow back on me.”

Reacher nodded his head slowly, like he was considering a complex problem from every conceivable angle. “So it costs me a day or two, but I get Fletcher. And you get away.”

“I get away. And maybe one other thing.”

“Which is?”

“Fletcher has a stash of cash. I know where it is. I figured therewas nothing I could do about it. No way to get my hands on it before I go. Not on my own. But together we could take it.”

“Where is it?”

“Not far away. I could take you there. Then give you a ride afterward. Anywhere you want to go. Within reason.”

“How do we get it?”

“It’s in a safe. A…the model doesn’t matter. The point is, the lock’s impossible to pick. Pretty much. Maybe three people in the world could do it and neither of us is one of them. The door, the top, the sides, they’re all too strong and too thick to cut or drill or blow a hole in with explosives. But it does have a weakness. The back. It’s thinner. Thin enough to make it vulnerable to a shaped charge. The manufacturer was looking to save weight, I guess. Or money. I don’t know. They figured they could get away with it because the safe is supposed to be attached to the wall and the floor. No one should ever be able to get to the back.”

“But?”

“The safe isn’t bolted down. Fletcher bought it cheap from someplace and just had it shoved against the wall. I can’t move it. I’ve tried. It’s too heavy. But Kane moved it. He installed it. And if Kane can move it, you can move it. Don’t you think?”

Reacher looked at his wrist. He tried to flex it. A jolt of pain shot up his arm and down to his fingers. “How much is in it?”

“Two point two million.”

“Split how?”

“Seventy/thirty.”

“In my favor?”

“Nice try.”

Reacher didn’t reply.

“Sixty/forty. Sixty to me.”

Reacher said nothing.

“OK. Split fifty/fifty. What do you say?”

“Normally I’d say you were crazy.”

Vidic spread his arms out wide. “Does this look normal?”

“So what’s the plan?”

---