Second Son by Lee Child 1 Zweiter Sohn von Lee Child 1 Segundo hijo de Lee Child 1 Second Son par Lee Child 1 Second Son di Lee Child 1 Segundo Filho de Lee Child 1 Второй сын" Ли Чайлд 1 Lee Child'dan İkinci Oğul 1 Lee Child的第二个儿子1 Lee Child 的次子 1

CHAPTER ONE

On a hot August Thursday in 1974, an old man in Paris did something he had never done before: he woke up in the morning, but he didn't get out of bed. Numa quinta-feira quente de agosto de 1974, um idoso em Paris fez algo que nunca tinha feito antes: acordou de manhã, mas não se levantou da cama. В жаркий августовский четверг 1974 года старик в Париже сделал то, чего никогда не делал раньше: проснулся утром, но не встал с постели. He couldn't. His name was Laurent Moutier, and he had felt pretty bad for ten days and really lousy for seven. Chamava-se Laurent Moutier e tinha-se sentido muito mal durante dez dias e muito mal durante sete. Его звали Лоран Мутье, и он чувствовал себя довольно плохо десять дней и действительно паршиво семь. His arms and legs felt thin and weak and his chest felt like it was full of setting concrete. Os seus braços e pernas estavam finos e fracos e o seu peito parecia estar cheio de betão. Kolları ve bacakları ince ve güçsüzdü ve göğsü beton gibi doluydu. He knew what was happening. Ne olduğunu biliyordu. He had been a furniture repairman by trade, and he had become what customers sometimes brought him: a wormy old heirloom weakened and rotted beyond hope. Povoláním byl opravář nábytku a stal se tím, co mu zákazníci někdy nosili: starým červotočem, který byl oslabený a shnilý. Era um reparador de móveis de profissão e tinha-se tornado naquilo que os clientes por vezes lhe traziam: uma relíquia velha e bichada, enfraquecida e apodrecida para além da esperança. Ticaretle mobilya tamircisi olmuştu ve müşterilerin bazen ona getirdiği şey olmuştu: kurtlu, yaşlı bir yadigarı zayıflamış ve umudun ötesinde çürümüş. There was no single thing wrong with him. С ним не было ничего плохого. Bunda yanlış olan tek bir şey yoktu. Everything was failing all at once. Tudo estava a falhar ao mesmo tempo. Her şey bir anda başarısız oldu. Nothing to be done. Não há nada a fazer. Ничего не поделаешь. Yapacak bir şey yok. Inevitable. Inevitável. Kaçınılmaz. So he lay patient and wheezing and waited for his housekeeper. Por isso, deitou-se, paciente e ofegante, à espera da sua governanta. Поэтому он лежал терпеливо и хрипел и ждал своего домработницы. Bu yüzden hasta ve hırıltılı uzandı ve ev sahibini bekledi.

She came in at ten o'clock and showed no great shock or surprise. Chegou às dez horas e não demonstrou grande choque ou surpresa. Она пришла в десять часов и не показала большого шока или удивления. Most of her clients were old, and they came and went with regularity. A maior parte dos seus clientes eram idosos e iam e vinham com regularidade. Müşterilerinin çoğu yaşlıydı ve gelip düzenliydiler. She called the doctor, and at one point, clearly in answer to a question about his age, Moutier heard her say “Ninety,” in a resigned yet satisfied way, a way that spoke volumes, as if it was a whole paragraph in one word. Chamou o médico e, a certa altura, claramente em resposta a uma pergunta sobre a sua idade, Moutier ouviu-a dizer "noventa", de uma forma resignada mas satisfeita, uma forma que dizia muito, como se fosse um parágrafo inteiro numa só palavra. Doktoru çağırdı ve bir noktada, yaşıyla ilgili bir soruya net bir şekilde cevap veren Moutier, “Doksan” demiş, istifa etmiş ancak tatmin edici bir şekilde, sanki bir paragrafta sanki bütün bir paragrafmış gibi sözcüğü. It reminded him of standing in his workshop, breathing dust and glue and varnish, looking at some abject crumbly cabinet and saying, “Well now, let's see,” when really his mind had already moved on to getting rid of it. Připomínalo mu to, jak stojí v dílně, dýchá prach, lepidlo a lak, dívá se na nějakou opovrženíhodnou rozpadlou skříň a říká si: "Tak teď se na to podíváme," i když ve skutečnosti se už v duchu chystal, že se jí zbaví. Lembrava-o de estar na sua oficina, a respirar pó, cola e verniz, a olhar para um móvel abjeto e a dizer: "Bem, vamos lá ver", quando na verdade a sua mente já tinha passado à fase de se livrar dele. Atölyesinde durması, toz ve tutkal soluması ve vernik yapması, utanç verici bir kabine bakması ve “Eh, şimdi görelim,” demesini hatırlattı. 这让他想起站在自己的工作室里，呼吸着灰尘、胶水和清漆，看着一些破烂不堪的柜子，说：“现在，让我们看看”，而实际上他的心思已经转向摆脱它了。 A house call was arranged for later in the day, but then as if to confirm the unspoken diagnosis the housekeeper asked Moutier for his address book, so she could call his immediate family. Foi marcada uma visita ao domicílio para o final do dia, mas, como que para confirmar o diagnóstico não dito, a empregada pediu a Moutier a sua agenda de contactos, para poder telefonar à sua família direta. Günün ilerleyen saatlerinde bir ev çağrısı düzenlendi, ancak konuşulmamış teşhisi onaylamak için sanki ev sahibi Moutier'den adres defterini istedi, böylece acil ailesini arayabilirdi. 当天晚些时候安排了一次上门拜访，但随后似乎是为了证实这个不言而喻的诊断，管家向穆蒂尔要了他的地址簿，这样她就可以给他的直系亲属打电话。 Moutier had an address book but no immediate family beyond his only daughter Josephine, but even so she filled most of the book by herself, because she moved a lot. Moutier tinha um livro de endereços, mas não tinha família direta para além da sua única filha Josephine, mas mesmo assim preencheu a maior parte do livro sozinha, porque se deslocava muito. Moutier bir adres defterine sahipti, ancak tek kızı Josephine'in ötesinde bir aile yoktu, ama yine de kitabın çoğunu tek başına doldurdu, çünkü çok taşındı. Page after page was full of crossed-out box numbers and long strange foreign phone numbers. Página após página estava cheia de números de caixa riscados e longos e estranhos números de telefone estrangeiros. The housekeeper dialed the last of them and heard the whine and echo of great distances, and then she heard a voice speaking English, a language she couldn't understand, so she hung up again. A governanta marcou o último número e ouviu o zumbido e o eco de grandes distâncias, e depois ouviu uma voz a falar inglês, uma língua que não conseguia compreender, e desligou novamente. Kahya, sonuncusunu aradı ve uzak mesafelerin sızlığını ve yankısını duydu ve sonra anlayamadığı bir dil olan İngilizce konuşan bir ses duydu, bu yüzden tekrar kapattı. Moutier saw her dither for a moment, but then as if to confirm the diagnosis once again, she left in search of the retired schoolteacher two floors below, a soft old man who Moutier usually dismissed as practically a cretin, but then, how good did a linguist need to be to translate ton père va mourir into your dad is going to die? Moutier viu-a hesitar por um momento, mas depois, como que para confirmar mais uma vez o diagnóstico, saiu à procura do professor reformado, dois pisos abaixo, um velhote suave que Moutier normalmente considerava praticamente um cretino, mas, afinal, quão bom era preciso ser um linguista para traduzir ton père va mourir por o teu pai vai morrer? Moutier bir süredir ditherini gördü, ama sonra teşhisi bir kez daha teyit etmek için sanki emekli okul öğretmenini iki kat aşağıda, Moutier'in genellikle bir kretin olarak görevinden alan yumuşak bir yaşlı adamı aramaya başladı, ama sonra ne kadar iyi yaptı Bir dilbilimci gereksinim duymak ton père va mourir'i babanıza çevirecek mi?

The housekeeper came back with the schoolteacher, both of them pink and flushed from the stairs, and the guy dialed the same long number over again, and asked to speak to Josephine Moutier. A governanta regressou com a professora, ambas cor-de-rosa e coradas das escadas, e o homem voltou a marcar o mesmo número longo e pediu para falar com Josephine Moutier.

“No, Reacher, you idiot,” Moutier said, in a voice that should have been a roar, but in fact came out as a breathy tubercular plea. “Her married name is Reacher. They won't know who Josephine Moutier is.” The schoolteacher apologized and corrected himself and asked for Josephine Reacher. He listened for a moment and covered the receiver with his palm and looked at Moutier and asked, “What's her husband's name? Your son-in-law?” O teu genro?"

“Stan,” Moutier said, “Not Stanley, either. Just Stan. Stan is on his birth certificate. I saw it. He's Captain Stan Reacher, of the United States Marine Corps.” The schoolteacher relayed that information and listened again. Then he hung up. He turned and said, “They just left. Really just days ago, apparently. The whole family. Captain Reacher has been posted elsewhere.” Kapitán Reacher byl vyslán jinam."

CHAPTER TWO

The retired schoolteacher in Paris had been talking to a duty lieutenant at the Navy base on Guam in the Pacific, where Stan Reacher had been deployed for three months as Marine Corps liaison. That pleasant posting had come to an end and he had been sent to Okinawa. His family had followed three days later, on a passenger plane via Manila, his wife Josephine and his two sons, fifteen-year-old Joe and thirteen-year-old Jack. Josephine Reacher was a bright, spirited, energetic woman, at forty-four still curious about the world and happy to be seeing so much of it, still tolerant of the ceaseless moves and the poor accommodations. Joe Reacher at fifteen was already almost full grown, already well over six feet and well over two hundred pounds, a giant next to his mother, but still quiet and studious, still very much Clark Kent, not Superman. Jack Reacher at thirteen looked like an engineer's napkin sketch for something even bigger and even more ambitious, his huge bony frame like the scaffolding around a major construction project. Six more inches and a final eighty pounds of beef would finish the job, and they were all on their way. He had big hands and watchful eyes. He was quiet like his brother, but not studious. Unlike his brother he was always called by his last name only. No one knew why, but the family was Stan and Josie, Joe and Reacher, and it always had been.

Stan met his family off the plane at the Futenma air station and they took a taxi to a bungalow he had found half a mile from the beach. It was hot and still inside and it fronted on a narrow concrete street with ditches either side. The street was dead straight and lined with small houses set close together, and at the end of it was a blue patch of ocean. By that point the family had lived in maybe forty different places, and the move-in routine was second nature. The boys found the second bedroom and it was up to them to decide whether it needed cleaning. If so, they cleaned it themselves, and if not, they didn't. In this case, as usual, Joe found something to worry about, and Reacher found nothing. So he left Joe to it, and he headed for the kitchen, where first he got a drink of water, and then he got the bad news.

CHAPTER THREE

Reacher's parents were side by side at the kitchen counter, studying a letter his mother had carried all the way from Guam. Reacher had seen the envelope. It was something to do with the education system. His mother said, “You and Joe have to take a test before you start school here.”

Reacher said, “Why?”

“Placement,” his father said. “They need to know how well you're doing.” “Tell them we're doing fine. Tell them thanks, but no thanks.”

“For what?”

“I'm happy where I am. I don't need to skip a grade. I'm sure Joe feels the same.” “You think this is about skipping a grade?”

“Isn't it?” “No,” his father said. “It's about holding you back a grade.” “Why would they do that?”

“New policy,” his mother said. “You've had very fragmented schooling. They need to check you're ready to advance.” “They never did that before.”

“That's why it's called a new policy. As opposed to an old policy.”

“They want Joe to take a test? To prove he's ready for the next grade? He'll freak out.” “He'll do OK. He's good with tests.” “That's not the point, mom. You know what he's like. He'll be insulted. So he'll make himself score a hundred percent. Or a hundred and ten. He'll drive himself nuts.” “Nobody can score a hundred and ten percent. It's not possible.” “Exactly. His head will explode.”

“What about you?”

“Me? I'll be OK.” “Will you try hard?”

“What's the pass mark?” “Fifty percent, probably.”

“Then I'll aim for fifty-one. No point wasting effort. When is it?”

“Three days from now. Before the semester starts.”

“Terrific,” Reacher said. “What kind of an education system doesn't know the meaning of a simple word like vacation?” CHAPTER FOUR

Reacher went out to the concrete street and looked at the patch of ocean in the distance up ahead. The East China Sea, not the Pacific. The Pacific lay in the other direction. Okinawa was one of the Ryuku Islands, and the Ryuku Islands separated the two bodies of water.

There were maybe forty homes between Reacher and the water on the left hand side of the street, and another forty on the right. He figured the homes closer to him and further from the sea would be off-post housing for Marine families, and the homes further from him and nearer the water would be locally owned, by Japanese families who lived there full-time. He knew how real estate worked. Just steps to the beach. People competed for places like that, and generally the military let the locals have the best stuff. The DoD always worried about friction. Especially on Okinawa. The air station was right in the center of Genowan, which was a fair-sized city. Every time a transport plane took off, the schools had to stop teaching for a minute or two, because of the noise.

He turned his back on the East China Sea and walked inland, past identical little houses, across a four-way junction, into a perfect rectilinear matrix of yet more identical houses. They had been built quick and cheap, but they were in good order. They were meticulously maintained. He saw small doll-like local ladies on some of the porches. He nodded to them politely, but they all looked away. He saw no local Japanese kids. Maybe they were in school already. Maybe their semester had already started. He turned back and a hundred yards later found Joe out on the streets, looking for him.

Joe said, “Did they tell you about the test?”

Reacher nodded. “No big deal.”

“We have to pass.”

“Obviously we'll pass.” “No, I mean we have to really pass this thing. We have to crush it. We have to knock it out of the park.”

“Why?”

“They're trying to humiliate us, Reacher.” “Us? They don't even know us.” “People like us. Thousands of us. We have to humiliate them back. We have to make them embarrassed they even thought of this idea. We have to piss all over their stupid test.”

“I'm sure we will. How hard can it be?”

Joe said, “It's a new policy, so it might be a new kind of test. There might be all kinds of new things in it.”

“Like what?”

“I have no idea. There could be anything.”

“Well, I'll do my best with it.” “How's your general knowledge?” “I know that Mickey Mantle hit .303 ten years ago. And .285 fifteen years ago. And .300 twenty years ago. Which averages out to .296, which is remarkably close to his overall career average of .298, which has to mean something.”

“They're not going to ask about Mickey Mantle.” “Who, then?”

Joe said, “We need to know. And we have a right to know. We need to go up to that school and ask what's in this thing.” Reacher said, “You can't do that with tests. That's kind of opposite to the point of tests, don't you think?” “We're at least entitled to know what part or parts of which curriculum is being tested here.” “It'll be reading and writing, adding and subtracting. Maybe some dividing if we're lucky. You know the drill. Don't worry about it.” “It's an insult.” Reacher said nothing.