“A Double Eagle victim who had survived. He believed she knew a lot about the group, but that fear had kept her quiet for decades. He thought Viola was getting close to telling him what she knew. That’s why he left that video camera at her house. He left an audio recorder, too, early on, but that’s never been found.”

Mrs. Sexton’s last sentence sends a strong echo back to my internal radar. This is the first I’ve heard of any audio recorder left with Viola. Henry never mentioned it to me.

“Tell us why you contested Viola Turner’s will,” Quentin says.

Mrs. Sexton’s face goes red and splotchy before she speaks. “Henry told me that Viola Turner was very interested in his work. So far as she knew, Henry was the only person who had been working almost continuously on her brother’s case. She’d tried to contact the FBI several times, but they would never tell her anything. Viola was amazed at the things Henry had uncovered, and she wanted to help him any way she could. After her second long interview with Henry, she told him she was going to leave him a bequest in her will to help fund his work, for the film he was working on.”

“Tell us more about that.”

“Henry was making a documentary. A joint venture with an award-winning filmmaker from Syracuse University. That’s up in New York. They were more than half finished, but they were having trouble getting funding to complete the project. The man from Syracuse had talked to Morgan Freeman’s people about narrating the film, and he wanted to do it. But Morgan couldn’t take it on for several months yet. A couple of backers pulled their support after they heard that. When Viola found out about this, that was when she offered her support to Henry. It moved him so much. Henry cried when he told me about their conversation. And he hardly ever did that.”

As Quentin prepares to ask his next question, Judge Elder’s secretary comes out of his chambers, climbs to the bench, and hands him a note. This kind of thing happens all the time in court, but as soon as Elder looks at the sheet of paper, I know this is different.

“Court is recessed for one hour,” he says sharply. “The witness is released. The jury will retire to the jury room, and the defendant will be returned to custody. I need to see counsel in chambers immediately.”

While the audience breaks into a hum of surprised speculation, the judge gets up and heads straight for the private door to his chambers. Shad and Quentin share a glance; then Shad follows the judge. As Quentin goes after him, I leave my seat and follow.

As we bunch around the judge’s door, Quentin looks over his shoulder at me. “What are you doing?”