Reacher picked up the envelope he’d found in the van at the Riverside Lodge and held it out to her. “We open this. It might throw some light on what happened to Danny. And Sam. And Angela. I doubt the Minerva guys had it by chance.”
Hannah was silent for a moment. “OK. I guess. But I can’t. You do it.”
Reacher tore open the envelope. There was a note inside, handwritten in neat tidy script, on a piece of paper with a company letterhead. The company was a firm of accountants called Moon, Douglas, and Flynn in Hattiesburg, Mississippi. The note was short. It read:
Danny,
I have what you asked for. What you have seen so far is just the tip of the iceberg. I can give you enough to sink the whole ship. Meet me at 11:30 a.m., this Friday, Coal Creek Coffee, corner table, downtown Hattiesburg.
Alan
PS—pls call to confirm you’re coming. I have arrangements to make. Use my cell, not the office number. 399-307-1968.
Reacher handed the page to Hannah. She read it then dropped the paper onto the dashboard in front of her.
She said, “I don’t get it. Is this the same thing Angela went to Sam about? The accounting thing? I can’t see the connection. But it would be weird if there were two separate things going on at the same time.”
Reacher said, “It’s the same thing. Remember the information I told you about from Angela’s purse? About Begovic’s release? It was in an envelope addressed to Danny.”
“How did she come to have it?”
“I was planning on asking Danny that.”
“So Danny was corresponding with some Deep Throat–type person. He must have gotten Angela involved. Which got her killed. And indirectly got Sam killed. Oh, boy. Poor Danny. He would have been devastated.”
“It wasn’t Danny’s fault. He uncovered a crime, apparently. He didn’t commit one.”
“Someone did. Someone at Minerva. The same people who set all those goons on us. We need to sink their ship. We need this blockbuster evidence. Whatever it is. Assuming this Alan guy checks out.”
Hannah pulled out her phone and started tapping and swiping. A couple of minutes later she held it up so that Reacher could see the screen.
She said, “OK. Well, the company’s real. It exists. The address, website, social media, logo, everything matches. There’s a list of partners. There’s one called Alan. Alan McInnes. And get this. They mention Minerva as one of their top clients. What do you think?”
Reacher said, “Dial the number.”
Hannah entered the digits and hit Call plus the button for the speaker. A man answered after three rings.
He said, “McInnes. Who’s this?”
Reacher said, “Danny Peel. I got your note. I’ll see you at Coal Creek, 11:30.”
“Wait. I’m not sure it’s safe.”
“Want to pick another venue? Name it.”
“Not the venue. You. How do I know you’re Danny?”
“How else would I know your number?”
“I don’t know. OK. What’s your middle name?”
Reacher looked at Hannah. She shook her head. He said, “I don’t have one.”
“Where did you live before you moved to Winson?”
“Gerrardsville, Colorado.”
“Name of your last boss before you went to work at Minerva?”
“Sam Roth.”
“OK.” There was a moment’s silence. “I’ll meet you. But come alone. And don’t be late.”
* * *
—
Bruno Hix ended the call. He was sitting in his kitchen, in his pajamas. He didn’t like to be at the prison too early on release days. There was always some kind of last minute logistical snafu and he couldn’t risk encountering anything that would put him in a bad mood before his speech. He took a sip of coffee, switched to his regular phone, and called Brockman.
“No Plan B,” he said. “It’s confirmed. Reacher will be nowhere near the ceremony.”
Brockman said, “Fantastic news. But, Bruno—you’re sure?”
“Positive. I got it straight from the horse’s mouth.”
* * *
—
Hannah tried to pull a U-turn in the street but the old VW’s steering was so heavy and slow to respond she bumped up onto the opposite sidewalk and almost clipped Danny Peel’s mailbox. She backed up a couple of yards, hauled on the wheel with all her strength, dropped down onto the street, and started to build a little speed. The bus mustered all the acceleration of a slug.
Reacher looked back at the mailbox. He said, “Stop.”