“One way or another, Penn, Snake Knox brought Dr. Robb’s plane down. But the Eagles didn’t give the order.”

After a puzzled moment, my mind leaps ahead to close the logical loop. “Brody Royal?”

Henry nods with utter certainty.

“But Dr. Robb was killed five years after Albert Norris. Why wait so long to silence him? And a midair collision? Not even a topflight crop duster could engineer that with any hope of survival.”

“I don’t think there ever was a collision. I think Snake sabotaged Robb’s plane, then banged up his own wing with a sledgehammer just after Robb went down beyond the runway. This was an isolated, unattended airport. Heavy fog, no control tower. Snake lied to the police and the FAA, his nephew backed him up, and that was it. No one could contest their story.”

Despite his intensity, Henry hasn’t sold me. “There’s lots easier ways to kill people, Henry, and without the collateral damage. Do you have any evidence that the crash was murder?”

“My Double Eagle source as much as told me it was murder today. I didn’t want to use up my time with him going into detail on that. But I’ve got circumstantial evidence. You decide how strong it is.”

“Go on.”

“Think about Albert Norris after the firebombing. He’s dying in agonizing pain, third-degree burns over ninety percent of his body. Dr. Robb can’t do a thing for him. Albert doesn’t tell the FBI anything, or even his best friend. But before he slips into a coma, he names Brody Royal and Frank Knox as his killers. Probably two others as well—Sonny Thornfield and Snake Knox. The second that Dr. Robb hears those first two names, his blood runs cold. He knows he’s a dead man if he ever reveals them. So he publicly supports the story that Albert never named his killers. But privately, that knowledge is eating him up. Robb treated Albert’s best friend for years, and that poor man never stopped mourning his buddy. All that time, Dr. Robb knew who had killed Albert. He ran into the Double Eagles almost daily in the community. And Robb was even closer to Brody Royal than that.”

“How do you mean?”

“Along with a lawyer named Claude Devereux, Robb was partners with Royal in a big hunting camp down the river. Robb often flew them down there to hunt or work on the land.”

The first name pings on something in my memory. “Is Claude Devereux the old Cajun who practices law in Vidalia?”