“When you’ve spent as many years in court as I have, you sense things. Hell, he’s practically acting as co-counsel for the prosecution. I just don’t know whether Joe wants to see me lose—you know, the Freudian kill-the-father thing—or whether he has some kind of grudge against your father. But it’s one or the other. You ought to do a little digging and find out which.”

“I will. Is that why you’re not objecting? Because you think Elder will overrule?”

Quentin doesn’t deign to answer. Spreading peanut butter on his Ritz seems to interest him a lot more.

“If that’s it, at least make him overrule you. Then it’ll be preserved for appeal.”

His eyes flick my way for a second. “I’m not worried about the appeals court, man. I’m gonna win this trial.”

I look to Doris for help, but she only shrugs.

“You haven’t said what you think of my strategy,” Quentin says in a teasing voice.

“Strategy? You let Shad make his entire forensic case with no opposition. You haven’t challenged any evidence or objected to patently inadmissible testimony. You didn’t even make an opening statement!”

“Are you finished?”

“Quentin, you only cross-examined two witnesses out of eight.”

“It ain’t the quantity of the questions, Grasshopper. It’s the quality.”

“You let Shad convince at least half the jury that the killer removed both videotapes from Cora’s house. Most of the jury believes Dad took those tapes.”

Quentin waves away my points as though I’m raising trivial issues.

“What the hell are you going to do if Shad walks in tomorrow with digital restorations of those tapes?”

“I’m not worried about those tapes.”

“Why not? Have you spoken to Dad about them?”

“I just did.”

“Do you know what’s on them?”

He smiles like a Jamaican handing out joints on a beach. “No idea, brother.”

I take a deep breath and try to rein in my anger. “Quentin . . . those tapes could destroy you tomorrow. And send Dad to Parchman.”

At last he fixes me with a serious gaze. “Are you that sure your father is guilty?”

“What the hell am I supposed to think at this point?”

“I guess you’ve given up, then.”

Doris’s presence should hold me back, but I can’t keep from demanding one specific answer. “Man . . . why the hell were you probing at the Frank Knox business with Cora?”

“It’s central to the Double Eagle thread of the narrative.”

This direct answer is such a novelty that it brings me up short. “Do you have proof of what you suggested about the Double Eagles threatening to kill Viola?”

Once again he exercises the royal prerogative not to answer.