‘So now it’s another conspiracy?’ Shaking his head, he went on. ‘No, Albert, I was there when he was questioned. He’s not lying. I’ve interrogated liars before, and believe me, I can tell. They always trip up, you know. Either they’re just too glib, or if they’re really bad, they mess up during their own story. This guy was spot on. He had the names, the dates, everything, but not at his fingertips, so it’s not like he swotted it all up in advance. And more than that, he had proof—all the bets and everything, written down in a bunch of notebooks. Quite the meticulous little record-keeper he was. Had separate entries for each wager, which he’d made the gamblers write out themselves, and he made them sign the bets as well. Called it his insurance policy. Well, it sure paid off for us!’

Albert felt a bolt, like an electric current, sear across his mind, jolting him even more awake. He had to remember to breathe. His heart began to beat fast, very fast. ‘One moment. You’re saying they actually found the records of these bets that Marcus had written out himself? Have you seen these notebooks yourself?’

‘Yes! Yes! That’s the clincher! And that notebook’s an indictment in itself, you know. The man must be mad, to blow that much Happiness on a bunch of fights.’

‘Fights? Did you say fights?’

‘Well, what do you think they were gambling on? It was the fights.’

Albert looked at him. ‘He’s lying, Colby. And those notebooks are fake.’

‘Huh? How can you be so sure?’

As Albert stared at him, a vision flashed across his mind—of black eyes, burning with a furious, intense anger, the kind of anger that was frightening to stand next to, even if it was not directed at you. Shaking it off, he looked straight at Colby. ‘Because I’m sure.’

He pushed himself to his feet, where he stood straight, not even swaying, although he felt far from strong.

Colby took a step forward, looking alarmed. ‘Here! What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Where’s Father?

‘In a meeting at the commander’s tent with orders for no one to disturb him. What is it? What’s gotten into you?’

Albert looked steadily at him. ‘I know this man is lying,’ he said. ‘I need to speak to Father, right now.’

Colby seized his shoulders. ‘You hold on a minute, now. You’re not going anywhere till you stop playing mystery man and give me some answers!’ Releasing Albert, he stepped back, looking at him earnestly. ‘Look, just tell me, all right? What are you saying? Why are you so sure he’s innocent?’

‘Because Marcus can’t write.’

Colby looked at him, shock spreading across his face. ‘What? What do you mean—he can’t write?’