Born into one of Natchez’s oldest families, Pithy was widowed in 1943, when her husband was shot down over the Pacific. She never remarried, but she lived a full and varied life, and as a result knows everything about anyone who matters in Mississippi over the age of forty, and most things about their offspring. I’ve used Pithy as a secret source for three of my novels, and her disguised anecdotes invariably delight or shock my readers, even those on the other side of the world. As per our agreement, her name has never appeared on my acknowledgments pages, a distinction that some locals point to with pride. Pithy operated by some personal code that I suspect made her an instrument of karma. Through what she revealed through me, she dispensed a sort of stealth justice, even if the only people who recognized themselves were those who had committed the sins for which she believed they should pay.

About a year ago, to my dismay, Pithy stopped taking my phone calls. She claimed that I hadn’t sufficiently disguised information she’d given me for my last book. No amount of apology or obeisance has proved sufficient to reopen the gates of her famed mansion to me, but today I must risk rejection once more. For no one is more likely to know what secrets lie behind the public faces of Brody Royal and Tom Cage.

Pithy is probably older than Royal, and while her wealth may not be as liquid, the widowed belle probably owns more land than the Louisiana magnate. She was my father’s first patient when he moved to Natchez (as she never tires of reminding him), and Dad continues to make regular house calls at her mansion, though he’s almost as sick as she is. I say “almost” because Pithy is dying of emphysema. She coped well with the disease for some years, but over the past six months she’s deteriorated rapidly, or so Dad tells me.

Dialing her number from the contacts list on my phone, I wait two rings; then a rich African-American voice, says, “Mrs. Nolan’s residence.”

That voice belongs to Flora Adams, Pithy’s maid since 1956, and the daughter of her mother’s maid.

“Flora, this is Penn Cage. I need to talk to Pithy, in person if you think she’ll see me. It’s very important.”

“Mayor, if you’d called yesterday, you wouldn’t have stood a chance. But if talking to you can speed up Dr. Cage coming back out here, you’ve got a magic key to her sickroom.”

“That’s exactly what I’m coming to see her about. Dad’s in trouble, and I think Pithy may be able to help get him out of it.”

“Come on, then. Doc Cage was s’posed to see Miss Pithy today, but he didn’t show up. She’s about to die for one of his cortisone shots.”