“How would Frank get a letter from Lee Harvey Oswald?”

“I don’t know. But he followed the kid around for a while. A day or two, maybe. With Frank, you never know. I wouldn’t be surprised if he screwed Oswald’s Russkie wife while he was in town. That’s how Frank rolled.”

Kaiser isn’t laughing. “You’re joking, right? Because that’s just absurd.”

“Hey, I was just thinking out loud.” Sonny shrugs. “You had to know Frank. He was something else.”

Kaiser finally turns to me, one eyebrow raised. “Don’t you have a question for Sonny?”

I close my eyes and ask myself if I want to give Sonny another opportunity to implicate my father. But in the end, I guess I have no choice. Standing and moving into Thornfield’s sight line, I say, “Did my father have any connection at all to this plot?”

Sonny looks confused by my question. “Dr. Cage?”

“Yes.”

He looks blank. “Not that I know of. What could he have had to do with it?”

“Some people say he had a relationship with Carlos Marcello when he lived in New Orleans as a young man. And he was the company doctor for Triton Battery, right? He knew Frank.”

“Sure, yeah. He took care of all of us.” Sonny suddenly holds up a forefinger. “Wait. . . . I believe Doc did sign Frank’s sick card for the time he was gone.”

My stomach flutters at his memory of this detail. “Did Frank mention that specifically?”

“Yeah, he did.”

Kaiser gives me a regretful glance.

“Wasn’t no big thing, though,” Sonny says. “Frank spun Doc a story about having an affair with some floozy, said she was going to blow up his marriage unless he stayed with her awhile and calmed her down. So Doc just put what he wanted on the medical excuse.”

The relief that flows through me is like a powerful narcotic. Forty years ago, any male, even a doctor, would have accepted a story like Frank’s without question, and many would have provided the requested cover. When I turn to Kaiser, he’s looking at me with an expression I can’t read. Does he accept this as exculpatory evidence? “That’s all for me,” I tell him. “Let’s get him back to the block.”

“Just one more question,” says Kaiser. “How did Frank get to Dallas and back?”

“Shit, come on,” I mutter, imagining Dad in a diabetic coma somewhere.

“Ferrie flew him out there,” Sonny says. “Snake flew him back.”

Kaiser nods slowly. “And how did Frank get around while he was in Dallas?”

A faint smile widens Sonny’s mouth. “He used a car that some of Carlos’s people left for him.”

“What people?”

“The Dallas mob out there, you know. I forget the name. Something that ends with a vowel.”

“Civello, maybe?”

Sonny shrugs. “That sounds right. An Eytie name like that.”

“And Frank was out there the whole week?”

“I don’t know for sure. But at least from Wednesday on he was. He reconned Dealey Plaza the first day he got there. Then he staked out Oswald. He wanted to know who the other shooter was, see? He wanted to be sure he killed the right guy.”

“Frank was a detail guy,” Kaiser says with only light sarcasm.

Sonny gives Kaiser a hopeful look. “Are we fuckin’ done now?”

I rise from my chair and retrieve my cell phones from the box where Sonny asked that I put them. The first one I switch on is the StarTac that Walker Dennis took off Deputy Hunt when he caught him this morning. I can’t deny that I’m hoping for a message from Forrest, but the screen only reads out the time.

“Hey,” Sonny says to Kaiser. “You were being straight about my grandson, right? About getting him out of that second tour? ’Cause he’s really scared about going back to Iraq.”

Kaiser gets to his feet. “That’s one thing I can do, Sonny. I’m the government today, and we are definitely making a deal.”

“It really messed him up when his buddy got hurt like that. I saw that kind of shit all the time in my war, of course. Back then, you just had to choke it down and go on. But these kids today didn’t come up the way we did, through the Depression. They’re not as hard. I don’t judge ’em. I’m glad, you know? But they can’t stand the same stuff we could.”

Kaiser gives him an understanding nod. “I hear you, Sonny. And after you sign that plea agreement, I will take care of him like he’s my own. You have my word.”

“I just hope my daughter doesn’t screw this thing up.”

“Me, too,” Kaiser says worriedly. “I think we’re done, Sonny. Let’s get you back to your cell.”

The old man grins. “I’m ready, believe it or not.”

“I’m going to have a word with Mayor Cage outside. My guys will be in to take you back. If you get anything from Snake about where Dr. Cage is, act like you’re having another heart attack. I’ll get you out of there quick.”

“Got it.”

Kaiser follows me into the hall, where the electromechanical sounds of the open office out front filter back to us. Phones, printers, HVAC, the dispatchers’ radio—

“Do you realize what we just heard in there?” Kaiser asks, his eyes glowing with excitement.

“Yeah, I heard it.”

“What do you think?”

“I think he was telling the truth. The question is, was Frank Knox telling him the truth?”

“But the details—”

“I know. It’s like you and Dwight scripted everything he said. I’d say you guys had it figured pretty close. I’m glad Dwight’s going to hear that before he goes under. Hopefully it’ll help him through.”

Kaiser nods like someone who can’t quite believe he’s been so fully vindicated. “And good news about your dad. How do you feel about that?”

“Compared to his present crisis, I don’t much care what he did forty years ago.”

“I understand. Well, with luck, Sonny can get Snake to tell him where Dr. Cage is.”

“Maybe. But how long will it take him?”

Kaiser shrugs. “With Snake, Sonny gives us a better chance than using a car battery and jumper cables. Where will you go in the meantime?”

“No idea,” I answer truthfully. “I can hardly think right now.”

“Go see your little girl, Penn. I swear I’ll call you the second I have any news. You did good work today, buddy. It was the tattoo that broke him.”

Kaiser grips my shoulder, then steps back into the interrogation room and closes the door. As I make my way through the open area of the office, I recognize few of the remaining deputies, but Spanky Ford gives me a thumbs-up as I pass and walk through the main doors, out into the winter sun.

CHAPTER 64

“IF I HADN’T had tickets on that flight to Cuba,” said Jordan Glass, “I think that redneck sheriff would have kept us in his office all afternoon.”

“Cuba wasn’t what did it,” Caitlin countered. “If you weren’t married to an FBI agent, good old Billy Ray Ellis would have jailed us as commie sympathizers.”

Jordan laughed and led them out to her car, which Carl Sims had kindly sent a deputy to retrieve.

Caitlin looked back at the sheriff’s office, thinking of the hour of her life she had wasted inside it. Billy Ray Ellis had a lot in common with Billy Byrd, and during his rather hostile interrogation, she’d gotten the feeling that he had spoken to his Adams County colleague. The only kindness he had shown was to give Caitlin a prison jumpsuit to wear while a matron dried her wet clothes.

“Look at that building,” Jordan said. “It looks like four glorified mobile homes nailed together, but he’s got a concrete helipad with klieg lights, a windsock, and the biggest Mississippi flag I’ve ever seen.”

Caitlin looked up at the Stars and Bars in the corner of the state flag, which hung just below an equal-size version of the Stars and Stripes.

“The only good thing I got out of there was the peppermints,” she said. “I’m still starving.”