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
Gavin shrugged as he plodded along. “Taking it one day at a time. Getting my steps in. They say you should do a few thousand every day. You know they got those whaddya call ’em, pedometers, you can put them on your wrist, tell you how far you gone.” He grinned. “I don’t have one of those. When you’re just walking around all day, you kinda don’t need one. You know you’re gonna get the steps in.”
“Sorry I didn’t bring you a coffee this morning,” Edwin said. “You must forgive me. I was dealing with a few things.”
“Oh no, don’t feel bad about that. It’s not like I’m sitting there thinking, Where’s Mr. Choo with my goddamn coffee? That was a kindness you did me the other day, but you don’t have to make it a regular occurrence.”
“You mind if we take a seat? I just want to keep an eye on the shop in case anyone comes by.”
“Oh yeah, sure.”
There was a nearby bench and they took it. Gavin, in a pair of stained jeans and a threadbare pea coat that was probably once blue but now a mottled gray, peered curiously at Edwin from below the visor of his ball cap. His hair hung over his ears and touched the back of his collar.
“How long have you been out of work now, if you don’t mind my asking?” Edwin said.
“Well, it’s been a while. The days kind of all run in together. But I’ll tell ya”—and he grinned—“I miss the weekends.”
Edwin smiled. “I think I understand. What are you doing for a roof over your head?”
“I still got my F-150. Don’t run it much unless I can scrape together a few funds to put half a tank in. But it’s got a comfy front seat, and that does me most nights. If it’s really hot and humid and doesn’t cool down after the sun sets, there’s plenty of benches to choose from here in Lucknow.” He smiled. “The world is my oyster.”
Edwin eyed the man sympathetically. “Not for a moment am I suggesting my situation is anything like yours, but you know, I live out of the back of my shop.”
“Oh yeah.”
“No home to go to every night, no little lady waiting for me. Have a hot plate to make my meals, a mini-fridge, a small bathroom where I can clean up, and a mattress. It’s all I really need.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a good setup,” Gavin said, looking almost envious.
“Exactly. And I’m content. To each according to his needs.”
“Who said that?”
“I believe I just did.”
“No, no,” said Gavin. “Originally.”
“You’re thinking of Karl Marx. It formed the basis of his socialist philosophy.”