The Reachers Collection

Chapter 8

The Cage was S"aven"s hotspot. Anyone with any money spent it on the cage fights or at the tables, night after night. The bar was owned by Pinky"s wife, but the undercurrent of crime happening in the back office was all Pinky"s. It wasn"t much of an empire, nothing compared to what it had been when Frank Morris was working his magic, but there were rumours that it was growing.

The club was closed, but the door was wide open. Two women scrubbed at vomit stains splattered over the door frame. They spared Charlie and John nothing more than a glance. It was a common sight to see men like them. There were no windows inside the building and most of the lights were off. Charlie could just about make out the edge of the cage that drew in the punters and of course the bar, which was lit up like a welcoming beacon.

A woman in her late forties toyed with a stock list, watching them approach without looking up. In her day she had been a stunner and even now she could outshine most women twenty years her junior. As they reached the bar she lifted her head and beamed at them. It was infectious. Charlie grinned back. John was immune.

“Let me guess, the infamous Smith brothers.” She held out her manicured hand and shook Charlie"s. “I"m Pinky"s wife. It"s nice to meet you boys, I"ve heard a lot about you. Pinky"s just finishing up some business and he"ll be right with you. Can I get you boys something to drink? We"ve got the real stuff here.”

“Thanks, we"re good. Nice place you"ve got here Mrs Morris,” Charlie lied.

“Call me Riva, Mrs Morris was my mother-in-law – it"s not a flattering comparison. You sure I can"t fix you up something? I used to be a mean cocktail waitress in my day.”

There was a side door behind the bar. It opened as Pinky"s meeting finished. Charlie recognised some of the faces from years gone by. It was funny, their skin wrinkled, their hair fell out, but the clothes stayed the same. He picked out Pablo immediately, he was Pinky"s right hand and as old school as they came, still wearing the same green fedora he had when he used to work Frank Morris" girls on the streets. Behind him was Fat Joe – the money man – in a white shirt stained with pasta sauce, as classy as he had ever been. They walked out with a younger guy, one Charlie didn"t recognise. He walked with a swagger, eye-balling Charlie and John as he passed as though he could easily take them out.

Then came Pinky. He had the body of frail old man, but there was nothing diminishing about him. His wiry arms were still strong. Beneath his thick rimmed glasses his eyes were still sharp. And the yellow cardigan he was wearing was concealing his fully armed gun holster. He didn"t acknowledge Charlie or John but with a flick of his head gestured for them to follow him.

“You got a plan yet?” John murmured under his breath.

Charlie didn"t. “Of course I do.”

The room was brightly lit, with each wall shining a light on a memorial of the Morris family history. Charlie scanned his eyes quickly across the pictures. So many faces, so many judgemental eyes, Charlie wondered how a man could stay sane in such a strong shadow of his past. They were offered a seat and it was straight to business. Pinky secured himself behind his desk and pressed his hands together, gathering control of the room in the tips of his fingers.

“You boys got good news for me.”

John removed the file from his bag and pushed it across the desk.

“Rachel Aaron, twenty-four, doctor at St Mary"s. We"ve got her current address, she"s got no other places in the city she"s likely to be. We"ve included her work schedule and the routes she usually takes. I"ve verified her personally. She"s the girl who wrote the letter,” Charlie assured him.

“All of this in just two weeks.” Pinky was unconvinced.

“We"re very good at what we do.” Charlie leaned forward, trying to be as friendly as possible, playing the only card he could. “One complication I should tell you about though. Her boyfriend"s a cop, and they share the apartment. We found her in two weeks but we didn"t have time to run any checks on him–just a name. Now if you want to give us another week I can get you a whole second file. If you think you need it, that is.” And that was his plan, to play for more time.

Pinky looked to be considering it. He rested forward on the file and examined his guests. “I like you boys. And this is good work. If all my men were like you I"d still have hair on my head. You boys have talent, talent I could use. I could put a lot more work your way, if you"re interested.”

There was a pause. A dangerous pause.

Charlie cleared his throat. “Certainly something we"d consider Pinky,” he lied. “If the money"s right.” But it wouldn"t be right. All Charlie wanted was the cash they were owed and they would be out of S"aven before sunset – he hoped Rachel would be doing the same.

“Well boys, if you want to come back tomorrow I"ll have your money for you, maybe even another job.”

“Tomorrow!” Charlie exclaimed. “We were under the impression we"d be paid today, given we"ve handed over everything. You know, on time, as instructed.”

Pinky shifted in his seat, ensuring what little weight he had was evenly thrown around the room. “I"ve got an old priest"s word that you two are the real deal. You"ve come up with a name when six other guys failed. And you did that in two weeks. When your work pays off so will I. After that consider your trust earned and your name in this city to be worth gold. Can"t say fairer than that.”

Charlie sat back and dared a glance in John"s direction. The younger Smith was even less amused.

“That"s not how we do business,” John said and the mood in the room shifted.

“This isn"t up for negotiation, son. You want to keep on my good side, and believe me you do, you"ll humour me.”

John was furious. Charlie quickly interjected, “So we come back tomorrow and we get the price we agreed?”

“Same time tomorrow and you walk away with the cash you deserve. I appreciate your patience Charlie. You boys get yourselves a couple of drinks tonight, on the house.”

Their cue to leave was underlined in his tone. And despite the handshake there was nothing amicable about their meeting. Pinky had them over a barrel and there was nothing Charlie could do about it.

They left the club in silence. John unlocked the car, claimed the driver"s seat, and waited for his brother. Charlie closed his door and waited. And waited. And waited. Until eventually his brother broke the silence.

“So the plan, did it work?” John sneered.

“What do you think?”

Charlie"s head was pounding so hard he had to close his eyes. His fingertips danced on the hem of his pocket. Inside his pills were calling to him, promising to take the edge off and make the world bearable again. He thought about just taking one subtly. Slowly his fingers slipped inside his pocket and his phone snapped at him.

He fished it out. “Dad” flashed up on the screen. Charlie sighed and took the call.

“Darcy,” he groaned, adding another notch to his bad day.

“Hey Charlie, just checking everything went okay. You get the job done?”

“Not really. We"ve got a problem.”

“That sounds ominous. John didn"t upset Pinky did he?”

“No, John was on his best behaviour.” Charlie ignored the look he got from his brother. “Turns out the mark is a Reacher.”

Darcy didn"t say anything.

“And I told her she was in trouble and that she should get out of the city.”

“What did you say to Pinky?”

“Nothing, just handed him the file, only now the bastard won"t pay us until he gets his pay off, which probably means we"re not going to get our money.”

“You gave him a Reacher"s file!” Darcy"s outrage came as no surprise.

“What else could I do? If she"s smart she"ll have disappeared already.”

“Only now he has her picture and a breadcrumb trail. Charlie this is serious. She could be in real danger.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“You get that girl and you bring her to me.”

“I thought you were retired.”

“You don"t retire from helping God"s people. Get her to me Charlie, I still have contacts in convents in the south, I"ll see her safe. Can you do this?”

“What about the money?”

“This is more important than money.”

He hung up the phone as John pulled up the car.

“So it looks like we"re going to save Rachel,” Charlie explained and rubbed his temples rigorously.

“What if she"s already left the city?”

“She can"t move that fast on foot. She"ll have gone to the train station. Not the closest one to her.” He clicked his fingers. “Trinity, she could walk there quick enough. She won"t have the money to go south, north is out with the winter coming. She"ll be westbound.”

John pulled back onto the road. “What if you"re wrong?”

“When have I ever been wrong?”

“Do you want the list?”

“Fine, drop me off. You head to the hospital, then her flat, make sure she isn"t there and keep an eye out for Pinky"s boys. We don"t want them thinking we"re involved in her disappearance.”