“I’ll tell you something else,” Quentin says defiantly. “My client is not required to defend himself against these malicious charges. He’s not required to take the witness stand and testify to his innocence. He is presumed innocent. The burden of proof lies with the State of Mississippi. Dr. Cage is protected by the full power of the Constitution of the United States. Nevertheless, Mr. Johnson over there is salivating in the hope that an old country doctor just might be proud enough, or foolish enough, to give a Harvard-trained prosecutor a chance to go after him with his sharpest legal scalpels. Well”—Quentin turns up both palms and gives Shad a beatific smile—“I have good news for Mr. Johnson. He is going to get his chance.”

An electric buzz ripples through the courtroom, and my heart starts to pound.

“At the conclusion of this case, Dr. Tom Cage will walk into that witness box and tell you all what happened on the night Viola Turner died. And I will make you all a promise.” Quentin glances at Shad, then turns slowly to the audience, which includes not only Sheriff Byrd, but probably also some corrupt law enforcement officers and even survivors of the Double Eagle group. “When Dr. Cage finally speaks, men sitting in this room now will tremble.”

The silence that follows this prophecy is like the vacuum of deep space. There’s only the soft whirring of Quentin’s wheelchair as he rolls back behind the defense table and lays a comforting hand on my father’s arm.

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

As the silence grows, Doris Avery scuttles forward and whispers in her husband’s ear.

“Your Honor,” Quentin says in a surprised voice, “I’ve been informed that my first witness has arrived outside the courthouse. I’m ready to proceed with my case.”

Judge Elder looks at his watch.

Shad Johnson stares at Quentin like an animal trying to determine whether another is predator or prey. The DA is desperate to know whom Quentin, after two days of sitting mute during devastating testimony, intends to call as his first witness.

“Call your witness,” Judge Elder orders.

“The defense calls Colonel Karl V. Eklund, U.S. Army, Retired.”

“Objection!” Shad cries.

“On what grounds?” Judge Elder asks.

“We’ve had no notice of this witness.”

Judge Elder looks conflicted about his ruling. At length, he says, “You’ve had no notice of any witnesses, Mr. Johnson. Nor will you get any.”

While Shad tries to appear unfazed, Judge Elder takes it upon himself to explain to the jury the concept of discovery and the rules pertaining to it in Mississippi. When he concludes, Colonel Eklund still has not appeared.

“Mr. Avery,” says the judge, “is your witness ready to be called?”

“I believe so, Your Honor. But the colonel is over seventy, and he’s from out of state. I’d better send somebody to find him.”