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
“Anyway, I’ve been acting as my own head hunter for some time now. You see, I’ve been at this for longer than you can imagine, and not just in this location. Been many, many places. Set up shop, stay awhile, then pack up my tent and move on to the next venue. Name a town, I’ve probably been there.”
Annie wasn’t sure she was actually supposed to play this game, so she continued to say nothing.
“There’s a perception in the culture that someone like myself lives forever. Not unlike that Dracula myth, not that I bear any resemblance. Anyway, that’s fiction, and this is the real world. I’m tired, and I’d like to pass the torch.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Ah, she speaks. One of the amazing things about living as long as I have is getting to see the wired world. The World Wide Web. A great time-saver. Saves on shoe leather.”
“Please just tell me where my son is.”
“He’s closer than you can imagine. I promise you, he’s fine, having a wonderful time, even. You’ll be with him soon. But first, there’s something I would like to show you.” He pointed his thumb toward the back of the shop. “Something I’ve been working on for years in one place or another.”
Some sort of fucking torture chamber, Annie thought. I won’t go back there. I can’t go back there. Unless that’s where Charlie is . . .
“I swear to you, you won’t be harmed. This will help me explain what it is I do and how I do it, and then we can discuss how to make the necessary reconfigurations. Come.”
He started walking between two aisles of toy train merchandise, beckoning her to follow him. He reached a door at the back of the shop and opened it, and Annie was almost knocked back by the din.
ChuffchuffCLICKETYCLACKclicketyCLACKwooWOOchuffCLICKETYchuffCLICKETYchuffWOOchuggachuggaclackclicketyCHUFFCHUFFclicketyCLACKwooWOOchuffCLICKETYchuffCLICKETYchuffWOOchuggachuggaclackclicketyCHUFFCHUFFclicketyCLACKwooWOOchuffCLICKETYchuffCLICKETYchuffWOOchuggachuggaclackclicketyCHUFF . . .
“I know, it’s a bit noisy, but you get used to it after a while. Like white noise.”
Nabler held the door for her, and as she entered the back room her jaw dropped. Her reaction was not unlike that of those who had come before her. Trains whipping around the room on tracks that hung in the air on strips of wood suspended by wires. A toy train jungle, ribbons of steel that twirled through the room like spaghetti. Along the far wall, an immense diorama featuring a town and mountains and rivers and bridges, but none of them quite right. Outcroppings of rock that looked more like skulls. Grass that looked like hair, tree trunks that had the look of bone.
“What . . . what is this . . . ?”