“Well, I think . . . both. All of it, I mean. Maybe Dr. Cage didn’t know himself which it was at the time. That’s how people are. I know he loved my sister. But he’d gone a long time without doing right by that child. Lincoln, I mean. And everybody ’round here had thought so highly of him for so long. I think the idea that Natchez would learn the truth about everything was too much for him. Maybe he told himself he was helping Viola out of her pain. But a man that mixed up about what he’s doing ain’t got no business giving suicide drugs to people.”

I can imagine Quentin absorbing this answer like a dutiful soldier standing resolute in the face of cannon fire. Then I hear the high-pitched whir again.

“When Mr. Johnson asked you whether Tom knew that he had a son by your sister, you did not actually answer the question. You said that as of 1996, Dr. Cage had been sending money for twenty-eight years.”

“That’s right.”

“That doesn’t necessarily mean Dr. Cage knew he’d fathered a son by Viola. Does it?”

“Well, sure it does.”

“Your Honor?” says Quentin.

“Ms. Revels, forget the money. Did your sister tell you specifically that Dr. Cage knew he had a son by her?”

The pause that follows this must be killing Shad—to the same degree that it’s sparked hope in my heart—but then Cora says, “Of course she did. The night Mama died. She told me all of that.”

“I see,” Quentin continues. “Cora, did any strange white men visit your house in the weeks before Viola died?”

“What do you mean, ‘strange’?”

“White men you’d never seen before?”

“Your Honor!” Shad cries. “Mr. Avery is blocking my witness!”

Quentin was a tall man before he lost his legs, and with Shad seated, he could easily interpose himself between the eyes of the DA and Cora.

“I’m sorry, Judge,” Quentin says. “I didn’t realize Mr. Johnson was so sensitive about having eye contact with his witness.”

Having made his point that Shad might be signaling his witness, Quentin quickly says, “You were saying, Miss Cora?”

“Well, I wasn’t there all day every day . . . but I didn’t see any men like that.”

“Did your sister tell you that men claiming to be members of the Ku Klux Klan or the Double Eagle group had visited her while you were gone? Threatened her, even?”

“Your Honor!” Shad shouts. “Counsel is blocking my witness again! This is flagrant abuse!”

A broad smile stretches my mouth. Quentin’s gamesmanship with Shad gives me the first real confirmation that he has a strategy and is carrying it out.

“Mr. Avery,” Judge Elder says in a chiding tone, “you do seem to be playing games with your wheelchair. Please move aside.”

“Thank you, Judge,” says Shad.