“Dad, from what I know, the physical evidence at the death scene is against you. The facts as I know them are against you. That doesn’t bode well for your legal prospects.”

He puts the Partagas between his teeth, and a blue nimbus of smoke floats out of his mouth as he speaks. “Old Shelby said something interesting about facts: ‘People make a grievous error thinking that a list of facts is the truth. Facts are just the bare bones out of which truth is made.’”

How do you respond to a guy who talks like this? He should write a book: Zen and the Art of Evading Questions, by Tom Cage.

“You said you spoke to Henry Sexton,” he reminds me. “What did he tell you?”

I want to probe Dad about the extent of his relations with Viola, but I can’t quite bring myself to open with such an invasion of his privacy. “Do you remember a man named Glenn Morehouse?”

“I think so. Big fellow? Hypertensive.”

“That’s him. He was murdered tonight, for talking to Henry Sexton.”

Dad’s eyes widen slightly behind his glasses. “I see. I imagine Morehouse knew a lot about … Henry’s special areas of interest.”

“That’s an understatement.” I can’t temporize any longer. “Dad, forgive me, but earlier you told me you’d take a DNA test regarding Lincoln Turner’s paternity. I have to go one step further. Could you conceivably be Lincoln’s father? Is there any chance of that?”

He takes the cigar from his mouth and sets it in his ashtray. “No,” he says, his voice and eyes steady.

Thank God, I say silently, trying not to show my relief. “Well, Lincoln seems to believe you are. He was parked outside my house tonight when I got home.”

Real alarm comes into Dad’s face. “Did he threaten you?”

“Only with exposure of the truth, which he said would destroy you.”

After a few moments, Dad waves his hand. “Don’t pay any attention to that.”

“Could Viola have told him he’s your son?”

Dad sighs. “If you’d asked me two months ago, I’d have said no. But after what I saw these past weeks … it’s possible. Viola was depressed, even desperate. And considering the alternative story …”

So Dad knows about Viola’s rape. “All right, then. We need to get the DNA test out of the way as soon as possible, so both Shad and Lincoln can start seeing this thing more objectively.”

“Is Lincoln Turner all Henry spoke to you about?”

“No. He told me a lot, but we both need to get some sleep soon. Based on what Henry told me, there are three questions I’d like to ask you.”

He sits back and laces his fingers across his belly. “Go ahead.”