“For one million dollars, paid in advance,” Quentin says skeptically.

“The money’s not the point. When you cross-examined Cora Revels, you asked her if any Klansmen or Double Eagles threatened Viola in those last weeks. I’m telling you now that there’s proof. Hard evidence. And you’re blowing me off?”

Quentin at last gives me his full attention. “What guarantee do you have that as soon as Lincoln gets the money, the original tape won’t go into the river, just like the copy did?”

“None.”

“But you’re still willing to pay?”

“I don’t know. A sting operation is probably the way to go, but we’d have to put it together fast.”

“They can’t do it in an hour. And Lincoln told you he wouldn’t talk to you anymore. Hell, that tape you saw go into the water was probably the original.”

“No. A guy like that isn’t going to dump his ace in the hole.”

“You have no idea what kind of guy he is. What you do know is that he just made his play. Now he’s at risk, so long as he has that tape.”

“Wrong. If the cops stopped him right now, he could claim he just found the tape. Only when he exchanges it for the money does he commit a crime, and even then, he could say he was just bringing it to me out of a sense of obligation.”

Quentin ponders what I’ve told him.

“We don’t need it,” he says finally. “Lincoln’s already hung himself.”

“How? You scared him, all right, but what’s the other shoe?”

“You’ll find out soon. You just have to trust me until then.”

“How am I supposed to do that? You’ve been giving me the mushroom treatment from the beginning.”

“I’m sorry. You know that wasn’t my choice. Let me just say this: if Lincoln Turner knew what I have, he’d fill that big truck of his with gas and hightail it back to Chicago.”

“Are you talking about Will Devine? I saw Kaiser leaving here.”

The owlish eyes flash. “You talked to him?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Kaiser didn’t tell you anything.”

“No. But you should.”

“I’ll tell you this: you’d be crazy to pay Lincoln Turner a dime. If you want to pay somebody a million dollars for an acquittal, pay me. I’ll guarantee it—even if I have to confess to killing Viola myself.”

Quentin’s grin does nothing to ease my anxiety.

“Seriously, Penn. Stay away from Lincoln. When you get twisted the way that boy was growing up . . . there’s just no hope. Let’s leave it at that.”