Читать книгу With Child - Andy Martin - Страница 20

It occurred to me, once or twice, that Lee looked quite a bit like a younger Bill Clinton. (Not everyone can see the resemblance, granted.)

His daughter Ruth had met Clinton once, in England. She had been working over there and she went along to the Hay Literary Festival for a laugh. Bill was giving a talk, pushing one of his books. When I Ruled the World or Me & My Zipper Problem or something. She went up to him afterwards. Pushed through the scrum. Said Hi. He said Hi. Moved on. She called out, above the hubbub, ‘My Dad writes Reacher!’ Sudden silence. He stops in his tracks. Turns.

‘Hold everything! This lady’s father is Lee Child, the greatest writer on the planet. Come on over here!’ She was in.

Turned out the President was a fan, had read them all. (Ruth confirmed the charisma. Irresistible, apparently.) I saw a photo of him reading Make Me too, on a plane, flying off to some international conference somewhere and needing to revise his ruthless, relentless vigilante strategy.

Another time Lee was talking to this cop. A woman. Mid-forties. Worked traffic in New Jersey mostly. Tough job, tough cop, hard as nails. Hardcore Republican too. Loved Reagan, Bush (father and son), Palin, all that crew. Had no time for Clinton at all. Except she had had to provide crowd control one time when he passed through New Jersey on the campaign trail.

The crowd took a lot of controlling, they were all cheering and stomping. The cop thought it was ridiculous and no way was she voting for this guy, no matter what.

Then afterwards he comes up to her, personally thanks her for everything she has done to make his day in New Jersey go so well. Shakes her by the hand. She melts. Totally.

‘I was actually having an orgasm, standing up,’ she said. ‘Never happened to me before.’

Sometimes the myth is real.

This is the kind of research Lee Child does. Cops open up to him. As I say, a little like Bill Clinton.

I checked: no, Obama is not a fan, as such. Lee was invited to some Obama function. The President comes up to him and says straight out, ‘I haven’t read Reacher, sorry!’ Lee liked that: straight shooting, no smoke in your eyes. And he appreciated that the guy probably had other things on his mind. But still. ‘And that’s despite the cigarette!’ Lee had once given him a cigarette, when they were standing together outside some lonely hotel somewhere between speeches. He remains confident that Obama will swing around in the end. One day. ‘Maybe when he retires and he needs the excitement.’ Lee kind of hates it when it turns out someone is not a reader. Yes, the cop was. Didn’t mention if she’d had the orgasm reading Reacher too.