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Uncle Sam needs us."
    "What about where Uncle Sam doesn't need you?"
    Nobody spoke.
    "My guess is the Pentagon pays by check," Reacher said. "But there seems to be an awful lot of cash around here, too."
    No response.
    "Africa?" Reacher said.
    No response.
    "Whatever," Reacher said. "Not my business where you've been. All I need to know is where Mrs. Lane has been. For the last couple of weeks."
    "What difference does that make?" Kowalski asked.
    "There was some surveillance," Reacher said. "Don't you think? I don't suppose the bad guys were just hanging out at Bloomingdale's every day on the off chance."
    "Mrs. Lane was in the Hamptons," Gregory said. "With Jade, most of the summer. They only came back three days ago."
    "Who drove them back?"
    "Taylor."
    "And then they were based here?"
    "Correct."
    "Anything happen out in the Hamptons?"
    "Like what?" Groom asked.
    "Like anything unusual," Reacher said. "Anything out of the ordinary."
    "Not really," Groom said.
    "A woman showed up at the door one day," Gregory said.
    "What kind of a woman?"
    "Just a woman. She was fat."
    "Fat?"
    "Kind of heavyset. About forty. Long hair, centre part. Mrs. Lane took her walking on the beach. Then the woman left. I figured it was a friend on a visit."
    "Ever saw her before?"
    Gregory shook his head. "Maybe an old friend. From the past."
    "What did Mrs. Lane and Jade do after they got back here to the city?"
    "I don't think they did anything yet."
    "No, she went out once," Groom said. "Mrs. Lane, I mean. Not Jade. On her own, shopping. I drove her."
    "Where?" Reacher asked.
    "Staples."
    "The office supply store?" Reacher had seen them all over. A big chain, red and white decor, huge places full of stuff he had no need of. "What did she buy?"
    "Nothing," Groom said. "I waited twenty minutes on the curb, and she didn't bring anything out."
    "Maybe she arranged a delivery," Gregory said.
    "She could have done that on-line. No need to drag me out in the car.
    "So maybe she was just browsing," Gregory said.
    "Weird place to browse," Reacher said. "Who does that?"
    "School is back soon," Groom said. "Maybe Jade needed stuff."
    "In which case she'd have gone along," Reacher said. "Don't you think? And she'd have bought something."
    "Did she take something in?" Gregory asked. "Maybe she was returning something."
    "She had her tote," Groom said. "It's possible." Then he looked up, beyond Reacher's shoulder. Edward Lane was back in the room. He was carrying a large leather duffel, and struggling with its bulk. Five million dollars, Reacher thought. So that's what it looks like. Lane dropped the bag on the floor at the entrance to the foyer. It thumped down on the hardwood and settled like the carcass of a small fat animal.
    "I need to see a picture of Jade," Reacher said.
    "Why?" Lane asked.
    "Because you want me to pretend I'm a cop. And pictures are the first things cops want to see."
    "Bedroom," Lane said.
    So Reacher fell in behind him and followed him to a bedroom. It was another tall square space, painted a chalky off-white, as serene as a monastery and as quiet as a tomb. There was a cherrywood king-sized bed with pencil posts at the corners. Matching tables at each side. A matching armoire that might have held a television set. A matching desk, with a chair standing in front of it and a framed photograph sitting on it. The photograph was a ten-by-eight, rectangular, set horizontal, not vertical, on the axis that photographers call landscape, not portrait. But it was a portrait. That was for sure. It was a portrait of two people. On the right was Kate Lane. It was the same shot as in the living room print. The same pose, the same eyes, the same developing smile. But the living room print had been cropped to exclude the object of her affection, which was her daughter Jade. Jade was on the left of the bedroom picture. Her pose was a mirror-image of her mother's. They were about to look at each other, love in their eyes, smiles about to break out on