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CHAPTER ONE
ON A HOT August Thursday in 1974, an oldhe had never done before: he woke up in the et out of bed He couldn’t His name was Laurent Moutier, and he had felt pretty bad for ten days and really lousy for seven His ars felt thin and weak and his chest felt like it was full of setting concrete He kneas happening He had been a furniture repairht him: a wormy old heirloo wrong with hi to be done Inevitable So he lay patient and wheezing and waited for his housekeeper
She careat shock or surprise Most of her clients were old, and they caularity She called the doctor, and at one point, clearly in answer to a question about his age, Moutier heard her say, ‘Ninety,’ in a resigned yet satisfied way, a way that spoke voluraph in one word It re in dust and glue and varnish, looking at so, ‘Well now, let’s see,’ when really hisrid of it
A house call was arranged for later in the day, but then as if to confirnosis the housekeeper asked Moutier for his address book, so she could call his immediate family Moutier had an address book but no ihter, Josephine, but even so she filled e after page was full of crossed-out box nun phone numbers The housekeeper dialled the last of thereat distances, and then she heard a voice speaking English, a language she couldn’t understand, so she hung up again Moutier saw her dither for a ain, she left in search of the retired schoolteacher two floors below, a soft old man who Moutier usually disuist need to be to translate ton père vato die?
The housekeeper came back with the schoolteacher, both of theuy dialled the saain, and asked to speak to Josephine Moutier
‘No, Reacher, you idiot,’ Moutier said, in a voice that should have been a roar, but in fact came out as a breathy tubercular plea ‘Her married name is Reacher They won’t knoho Josephine Moutier is’
The schoolteacher apologized and corrected himself and asked for Josephine Reacher He listened for a moment and covered the receiver with his palm and looked at Moutier and asked, ‘What’s her husband’s name? Your son-in-law?’
‘Stan,’ Moutier said ‘Not Stanley, either Just Stan Stan is on his birth certificate I saw it He’s Captain Stan Reacher, of the United States Marine Corps’
The schoolteacher relayed that infor up He turned and said, ‘They just left Really just days ago, apparently The whole family Captain Reacher has been posted elsewhere’
CHAPTER TWO
THE RETIRED SCHOOLTEACHER in Paris had been talking to a duty lieutenant at the Navy base on Guam in the Pacific, where Stan Reacher had been deployed for threehad come to an end and he had been sent to Okinawa His faer plane via Manila, his wife, Josephine, and his two sons, fifteen-year-old Joe and thirteen-year-old Jack Josephine Reacher was a bright, spirited, energetic woman, at forty-four still curious about the world and happy to be seeing so much of it, still tolerant of the ceaseless moves and the poor accorown, already well over six feet and well over two hundred pounds, a giant next to his mother, but still quiet and studious, still very much Clark Kent, not Superineer’s napkin sketch for soe bony fra around a hty pounds of beef would finish the job, and they were all on their way He had big hands and watchful eyes He was quiet like his brother, but not studious Unlike his brother he was always called by his last name only No one knehy, but the family was Stan and Josie, Joe and Reacher, and it always had been
Stan met his family off the plane at the Futenalow he had found half a mile from the beach It was hot and still inside and it fronted on a narrow concrete street with ditches either side The street was dead straight and lined with sether, and at the end of it was a blue patch of ocean By that point the family had lived in maybe forty different places, and the move-in routine was second nature The boys found the second bedroo If so, they cleaned it themselves, and if not, they didn’t In this case, as usual, Joe found so So he left Joe to it, and he headed for the kitchen, where first he got a drink of water, and then he got the bad news
CHAPTER THREE
REACHER’S PARENTS WERE side by side at the kitchen counter, studying a letter his mother had carried all the way fro to do with the education system His mother said, ‘You and Joe have to take a test before you start school here’
Reacher said, ‘Why?’
‘Placement,’ his father said ‘They need to knoell you’re doing’
‘Tell the fine Tell them thanks, but no thanks’
‘For what?’
‘I’rade I’m sure Joe feels the same’
‘You think this is about skipping a grade?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No,’ his father said ‘It’s about holding you back a grade’
‘Why would they do that?’
‘New policy,’ hisThey need to check you’re ready to advance’
‘They never did that before’
‘That’s why it’s called a new policy As opposed to an old policy’
‘They want Joe to take a test? To prove he’s ready for the next grade? He’ll freak out’
‘He’ll do OK He’s good with tests’
‘That’s not the point, Mom You knohat he’s like He’ll be insulted So he’ll make himself score a hundred per cent Or a hundred and ten He’ll drive himself nuts’
‘Nobody can score a hundred and ten per cent It’s not possible’
‘Exactly His head will explode’