Page 66 of The Secret

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Susan Kasluga washanging upside down.

Veronica Sanson had made her sit on her hands and she kept her covered with her gun while Roberta drove. She backed out from between the sloping brick buildings and navigated to a water pumping station on the east bank of the Potomac. It was a twenty-foot-tall rectangular structure that dated back to the 1930s. An era when public buildings were made to last. Pipes were strong. Walls were thick. Sound waves produced by all the engines and machines and other pieces of equipment had a tough time getting through them. So did the sound of people screaming.

Roberta got out of the Suburban first. She took a pair of bolt cutters and a rope from the trunk and crossed to the building’s double doors. She cut the hasp of the lock and went inside. Veronica led Kasluga to a spot almost in the center of the main space. They were beneath a six-inch water pipe that was suspended from the ceiling on stout metal brackets. Roberta tied a loop in the rope and laid it on the floor. Veronica maneuvered Kasluga back a couple of steps so that she was standing in the middle of the loop. Roberta yanked the rope, hard, jamming Kasluga’s ankles together. Veronica shoved Kasluga in the chest and she pitched back onto the floor. She screamed. Part pain. Part surprise. Part indignation. Cement dust puffed up all around her. She tried to roll onto her stomach and lever herself upright but there wasn’t time. Roberta tossed the rope up and over the thick water pipe. Veronica helped her to pull and together they hauled it up until Kasluga’s fingertips could no longer touch the ground.

Roberta pushed Kasluga and set her swinging slowly like a pendulum in a giant clock. She said, “One name, Susan. That’s all we need. Give it to us and you’ll never see us again.”

“I don’t know the name.”

Roberta took a piece of paper out of her pocket. “See this? It’s our list. Seven names. You can write the eighth one down if you like. Then you can always say you didn’ttellus.”

“I don’t know the name. Please. You have to believe me.”

“Why do we have to? Because you’re rich?” Roberta put the list back in her pocket. “Because you’re used to getting anything you want? To buying your way out of trouble? OK. Here’s an idea. Imagine that eighth name is money. It’s the last currency that exists in the world. It’s the only thing you can use to pay for your freedom.”

“OK. Fine. I’ll tell you. It’s Ernst. Richard Ernst. Now let me down.”

Roberta shook her head. “Really, Susan, I thought a businesswoman would be a better liar. Do you think we don’t read the papers? Richard Ernst won last year’s Nobel Prize in Chemistry. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to leave you to think for a little while. To get your priorities sorted out. And while you’re doing that, we’re going to get a little device ready. See, we thought we might be in a position where we’re dealing with someone who needs a little persuasion. We just didn’t bank on it being so soon.”

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Roberta and Veronicareturned a quarter of an hour later. Kasluga was still swinging. Faster than before as a result of trying to break free. Her face was red. She was struggling for breath. Veronica was carrying a large goldfish bowl. It was full of clear liquid and an olive green spherical object was rolling around on the bottom. She placed the thing on the floor near Kasluga’s head and stepped well back.

Roberta said, “Have you heard of the Sword of Damocles, Susan?”

Kasluga said, “Long time ago.”

“Good. Then you’ll get the principle. We call this the Grenade of Damocles. It should maybe get a nod to Molotov as well. The branding needs work, I guess, but as a scientist I think you might like it. See the liquid? That’s ordinary gasoline. And the green globe? A standard M67 grenade. Only we’ve removed the spoon and stretched an elastic band around it to hold the striker in place. Now, what happens to rubber when it’s bathed in gasoline?”

“It dissolves.”

“Correct. And when there’s nothing to stop the striker from activating the fuse?”

“It explodes.”

“Correct. The only thing we’re not a hundred percent clear on is how long the elastic band will hold out. It’s not a very thick one, to be honest. Not very good quality. We’re thinking twenty minutes? Half an hour, tops? But we may be wrong so we’re going to the other room now. It’s very unpleasant having to wash body parts out of your hair. Believe me. We’ve done it. Oh, one other thing. The kill radius of the M67 is sixteen feet, so if you do decide to take the name with you to the grave, at least you won’t suffer. No matter how high you swing.”

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Kasluga tried tobend at the waist and pull herself up, but her stomach muscles just weren’t strong enough. She tried to squeeze her ankles tighter together and slip one free, but the rope was too tight. All she did was increase the agony. She started to swing again. Tried to grab a cluster of vertical pipes. They were too far away. She craned her head, searching for something she could use as a weapon. There was nothing in sight. She looked for her purse, then remembered it was in the Suburban. It was no good to her there. She couldfeel the despair building throughout her body. Overwhelming her. The pressure behind her eyes was building. Becoming unbearable. Her ankles felt like they were on fire. She held out for another seven minutes then gave up the fight. She called for Roberta and Veronica. She said, “You win. I’ll tell you. I’ll give you the name. The eighth man? It was Charles Stamoran. My husband.”

Chapter25

Reacher didn’t move. He stayedstanding next to Charles Stamoran’s car and said, “Understood, sir. But let me clarify one thing before I leave. These phone numbers. You’re saying you don’t recognize them?”

“Correct. I do not recognize them. Why should I? Do I look like a walking telephone directory?”

“One belongs to a suspect in a murder case. The other terminates in your house. As you can see, a call was made from one to the other.”

Stamoran snatched the page back and scanned it again. He said, “I’ve never seen either of these numbers before. Let alone owned one or taken a call from one. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve been given bad information. Now, conversation over. I’ve wasted enough time on you.”

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Roberta and VeronicaSanson lowered Kasluga to the ground, loosened the rope, and gave her a minute to catch her breath and regain her balance. Then they took hold of an elbow each and led her to a room at the side of the building. It was small and square. One wall was covered with all kinds of gauges and valves and levers and indicators. And on another there was a small red cabinet.Emergency Use Onlywas stenciled on the side in bold white letters. Roberta opened it. A telephone was inside.

Roberta said, “Call your husband. Tell him you’re a hostage. Tell him we’ll kill you if he’s not here, alone, inside thirty minutes.”

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