Quentin rolls his chair closer to the witness box, testing the invisible boundary that exists in the judge’s mind. “Mr. Jelks, did your wife ever talk to you about any crime that she might have committed back in Natchez, Mississippi?”

This question obviously strikes Junius Jelks as absurd. “A crime? Viola? She was the most proper woman you ever met, except for her drinking. And she always drank at home. Butter wouldn’t melt on that woman’s tongue, brother. Not unless she wanted it to.”

“So, your answer is no?”

“My answer is hell no. She never mentioned committing any crime.” Jelks smiles crookedly. “I was the criminal in our marriage.”

“In your earlier testimony, you said you told Lincoln Turner just last year that he’d been fathered by Ku Klux Klan rapists. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did you and he have any contact after that?”

“Not really. I was in prison, and he stopped coming to see me.”

“What about phone calls?”

“Coupla angry ones the first couple of weeks, but then nothing.”

“How did Viola react to you telling Lincoln the Klan rape story?”

“She told Lincoln that as far as she was concerned, I was dead. She never wanted to hear my name again. He told me that during one of those calls.”

“Did you ever again hear from your wife prior to her death?”

“Just once.”

“What was the nature of the contact? A prison visit? A call?”

“She sent me a letter.”

“To the prison?”

“That’s right.”

“What did the letter say?”

“Well . . . I brought it with—”

“Objection!” Shad barks. “We’ve had no notice of this letter. Contents of writings, recordings, and photographs.”

“Your Honor,” says Quentin, “we enter this letter as Defense Exhibit Five subject to verification of Viola Turner’s handwriting by the State’s expert, which our own expert has already done to our satisfaction.”

“Your Honor,” Shad goes on, “this witness is a known confidence man and convicted felon. How can the court give any weight to anything he might bring before us?”

“That’s up to the jury to decide,” Judge Elder says calmly. “Denied. I’ll allow it, subject to authentication. Please continue, Mr. Avery.”

“Exception,” Shad says testily.

“Noted.”

“Please read the letter, Mr. Jelks,” Quentin says.

“Junius. I am writing to inform you that I am cutting you out of my will.”

A sharp babble of conversation erupts in the gallery.

“Order,” demands Judge Elder.

“You will probably think I am doing this because your actions got Lincoln disbarred, and possibly ruined his career, but that is not the reason. I would have divorced you for that, but since I am dying, there’s not much point in going through all that. I don’t have the strength for it, anyway. You may also recall that I didn’t cut Cora out of my will, not even after she committed adultery with you.