Page 20 of Exit Strategy
‘Why not? Card games go on all night, don’t they? The sketchy ones especially.’
‘Yeah, but we can’t just walk into the place and confront the guy.’
‘Why not?’
‘For a start, they won’t open the door unless you knowthe special code. And it’s not the kind of door you can bust down. Not even you.’
‘But you used to go every day. So you know the code.’
‘They might have changed it.’
‘So that returning customers from out of town can’t get in? Big spenders? I doubt it.’
‘Okay. Suppose they open the door. I’m persona non grata there. They’d probably kill me for just showing my face.’
‘Don’t worry. You can stay in the car. I’ll take care of the rest.’
‘How? Although … It’s all about money, right?’ He rummaged in his backpack and pulled out a bundle of cash held together with a brown strap. He held it out to Reacher. ‘Maybe he’ll sell you a name, the same way he sold mine.’
Reacher took the cash. He said, ‘Or maybe he’ll tell me out of the goodness of his heart.’
‘You haven’t been in that place or you wouldn’t joke like that.’ Gilmour stood up and walked down the corridor. He disappeared through the first door, then returned a minute later. He was carrying a phone. He held it out to Reacher.
Reacher didn’t take it. He said, ‘I’m not planning on calling anyone.’
Gilmour pressed a couple of buttons on the phone, then took out his own and pressed a couple more. He held it out again and said, ‘Take it. You can’t call anyone with it. But I’ve copied the picture of the guy who approached me onto it. Maybe you can use it to get a positive ID.’
THIRTEEN
Gilmour pulled over in front of a dry cleaner and left Reacher to walk the final block alone.
The door Reacher needed was not hard to find. It was plain black, with no name or number, sandwiched between a vegetarian restaurant and a cocktail bar, just as Gilmour had described. What Gilmour hadn’t mentioned was the paint. It was gleaming like it was still wet, and a red rose was flowering in a pot on either side of the doorway, despite the season. The overall impression was a world away from what Reacher had been expecting. His experience of underground gambling clubs was based on dragging AWOL soldiers out of dingy basements or tracking down suspects in sleazy back rooms, but he knocked, anyway. A moment later, a slim stainless-steel intercom crackled to life and a disembodied metallic voice said, ‘We’re closed.’
Reacher glanced around, hoping no passers-by were in earshot, and quietly recited, ‘The laurel shall wave and form a bright wreath for the brows of the brave.’
The intercom was silent for a moment, then the voice said, ‘Who sent you?’
‘My friend Ulysses.’
‘Get lost.’
‘Really?’ Reacher took the bundle of cash Gilmour had given him out of his pocket. He held it up to the pinprick lens at the top of the intercom, riffed through the stack, and ended up with the engraving of Ulysses S. Grant clearly visible on the final fifty-dollar bill.
The voice said, ‘Stay there.’
Reacher put the money away. Nothing happened for twenty seconds, then the door clicked several times and swung smoothly inward. That revealed a guy standing in a kind of narrow vestibule with pale wood on the floor, soft yellow walls, and a slender crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The guy was maybe five foot six, and he was easily sixty years old. He was wearing a gray suit the exact same shade as his shoulder-length hair, and a white shirt with a red-and-blue-striped tie. He moved back and gestured for Reacher to come inside. The guy was a world away from the bulked-up bouncer Reacher had been expecting. And given the way he seemed to glide rather than step, Reacher would have bet the whole stack of fifties that he had years of training behind him. More than enough to outweigh a gut full of steroids and too many pointless hours in the gym.
Reacher stepped inside, the door swung closed behind him, and the gray-haired guy gestured to a velvetcontainer on a waist-high wooden table. He said, ‘You can leave any weapons here.’
Reacher said, ‘No weapons.’
‘You can collect them on your way out. No one will interfere with them. You have my word.’
Reacher said, ‘No weapons.’
‘Perhaps you would like to double-check. You see, weapons are not welcome here. None are permitted inside at all. If you were to attempt to bring one in, even inadvertently, the results could be quite … unfortunate.’
Reacher said, ‘No weapons.’
