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
“I don’t believe so,” Annie said.
He was studying her, looking at her differently than he had when she’d first arrived. “This is all starting to feel more preordained than I could have imagined. There are a few . . . what I would call civilians . . . who can sometimes catch brief glimpses into the sliver. Creative types, usually. You’re definitely one of the special ones.”
Annie took several quick, deep breaths, in and out, in and out. She needed her wits about her. As bizarre as her circumstances were, she needed a clear head.
She asked, “Why did you kill my husband? It was you, wasn’t it? You ran him down in the street. You ran him down and ran back and stole his watch. Why?”
“It was integral to my objective.”
“Which was?”
“I need someone to take over, and I’d like it to be you.”
Annie blinked. “What?”
“There will be fair amount of work to handle the transition. I’m not kidding myself on that score. Much to be done, a retrofit of the facilities. But I think it’s all doable, and you strike me as the most likely candidate. Even more so now that I have a hint of your abilities. It was a hell of a job getting you here, but it wasn’t as if I could simply ask. I had to make you want to come here. I had to make it in your interest. And that meant settling you someplace where I could pique that interest. That house near Fenelon, where one of the best sets I ever made was sitting in that shed waiting for you to arrive.”
“How . . .”
“So, first, John had to die. You would have to mourn, and for a period of time you would want to forget. To forget, you would need to leave the city. And that house near Fenelon was still there, that Tide box full of trains in the shed, waiting to be found. Made a couple of trips into Manhattan—my God, the traffic, I don’t know how you stand it—first, to kill John, and then again, later, to put the idea of sending you here into your editor’s head. Waltzed right in, pretended to have a job there, struck up a chat with him. They really ought to tighten up security.”
Annie listened, trying to get her head around what he was telling her.
“You killed Fin,” she said under breath.