Running Blind Read Online Free PDF Page B

separating the factions to his left and right.
    "We've been squabbling over you," he said.
    "Am I in custody?" Reacher asked.
    The guy shook his head. "No, not yet."
    "So I'm free to go?"
    The guy looked over the top of his eyeglasses. "Well, we'd rather you stayed right here, so we can keep this whole thing civilized for a spell."
    There was silence for a long moment.
    "So make it civilized," Reacher said. "I'm Jack Reacher. Who the hell are you?"
    "What?"
    "Let's have some introductions. That's what civilized people do, right? They introduce themselves. Then they chat politely about the Yankees or the stock market or something."
    More silence. Then the guy nodded.
    "I'm Alan Deerfield," he said. "Assistant Director, FBI. I run the New York Field Office."
    Then he turned his head to his right and stared at the sandy guy on the end of the line and waited.
    "Special Agent Tony Poulton," the sandy guy said, and glanced to his left.
    "Special Agent Julia Lamarr," the woman said, and glanced to her left.
    "Agent-in-Charge Nelson Blake," the guy with the blood pressure said. "The three of us are up here from Quantico. I run the Serial Crimes Unit. Special Agents Lamarr and Poulton work for me there. We came up here to talk to you."
    There was a pause and the guy called Deerfield turned the other way and looked toward the man on his left.
    "Agent-in-Charge James Cozo," the guy said. "Organized Crime, here in New York City, working on the protection rackets."
    More silence.
    "OK now?" Deerfield asked.
    Reacher squinted through the glare. They were all looking at him. The sandy guy, Poulton. The woman, Lamarr. The hypertensive, Blake. All three of them from Serial Crimes down in Quantico. Up here to talk to him. Then Deerfield, the New York Bureau chief, a heavyweight. Then the lean guy, Cozo, from Organized Crime, working on the protection rackets. He glanced slowly left to right, and right to left, and finished up back on Deerfield. Then he nodded.
    "OK," he said. "Pleased to meet you all. So what about those Yankees? You think they need to trade?"
    Five different people facing him, five different expressions of annoyance. Poulton turned his head like he had been slapped. Lamarr snorted, a contemptuous sound in her nose. Blake tightened his mouth and got redder. Deerfield stared and sighed. Cozo glanced sideways at Deerfield, lobbying for intervention.
    "We're not going to talk about the Yankees," Deerfield said.
    "So what about the Dow? We going to see a big crash anytime soon?"
    Deerfield shook his head. "Don't mess with me, Reacher. Right now I'm the best friend you got."
    "No, Ernesto A. Miranda is the best friend I got," Reacher said. "Miranda versus Arizona, Supreme Court decision in June of 1966. They said his Fifth Amendment rights were infringed because the cops didn't warn him he could stay silent and get himself a lawyer."
    " So?"
    "So you can't talk to me until you read me my Miranda rights. Whereupon you can't talk to me anyway because my lawyer could take some time to get here and then she won't let me talk to you even when she does."
    The three agents from Serial Crime were smiling broadly. Like Reacher was busy proving something to them.
    "Your lawyer is Jodie Jacob, right?" Deerfield asked. "Your girlfriend?"
    "What do you know about my girlfriend?"
    "We know everything about your girlfriend," Deerfield said. "Just like we know everything about you, too."
    "So why do you need to talk to me?"
    "She's at Spencer Gutman, right?" Deerfield said. "Big reputation as an associate. They're talking about a partnership for her, you know that?"
    "So I heard."
    "Maybe real soon."
    "So I heard," Reacher said again.
    "Knowing you isn't going to help her, though. You're not exactly the ideal corporate husband, are you?"
    "I'm not any kind of a husband."
    Deerfield smiled. "Figure of speech, is all. But Spencer Gutman is a real white-shoe operation. They consider stuff like that, you know. And it's a financial firm, right? Real big