Chapters (73)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Prologue
- Part IAnnie
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Part IIHarry
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Part IIIAnnie
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Part IVHarry
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Part VAnnie
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Linwood Barclay
- About the Publisher
Once they were undressed and under the covers, it was as special as it had ever been, and Harry found himself thinking fate was a wonderful thing, that somehow he had met this woman and fallen in love with her, that they had made a life together and this union had blessed them with a terrific son, and it didn’t matter how much shit got thrown his way as Lucknow’s chief of police, he was still the luckiest son of a bitch in the whole world.
Forty-Two
“I promised you a surprise,” Janice said the following morning in the kitchen.
“That was a pretty good one last night,” Harry said, taking a bite out of a slice of toast. For the first time in weeks, he had slept well.
“When Dylan gets down here,” she said, giving him a smirk, “all will be revealed.”
Their son showed up five minutes later. It was a school day, but aside from getting up earlier than he would have on a weekend, there was no sense of urgency in his actions. He wandered in, opened the fridge and got himself a glass of orange juice, poured some cornflakes into a bowl, and added a splash of milk.
As he took his first bite, Janice said, “Gentlemen, if I might have your attention for a moment.”
Harry leaned back in his chair, arms folded, a sly smile on his face. Dylan looked up from his cereal.
“What?” he said.
“I know it’s not Christmas yet,” she said, “but I got a little something for the two of you to work on together, and decided to give it to you now.”
“What, like, a puzzle?” Dylan asked.
“Better,” she said. “Stay right there.”
She ducked out to the living room. Harry and Dylan exchanged puzzled glances. “What is it?” Dylan asked.
His father shrugged.
Janice was back in under ten seconds, bearing a wrapped package in her arms. She set it on the table. “You can fight over who opens it.”
Harry gave his son a nod. “All yours.”
Dylan put down his spoon, found a spot where the wrapping had been taped together, and tore into it. His eyes went wide and a broad grin took over his face as what lay hidden by the paper was exposed.
“Oh, cool!” he said.
Harry said nothing.
“This is awesome,” Dylan said. He raised the box up onto its side so that his father could see the steam engine and various boxcars displayed through clear plastic windows.