It’s perfectly legal for police detectives and prosecutors to lie to suspects to prompt a confession, and in this situation, I’m not bound by any rules at all. “I’ll give you the kid’s name,” I lie. “He’s not a kid anymore, of course. I’ll leave it to you to make sure he doesn’t tell his story to anybody. I’m assuming you’ll pay for his silence, but that’s your decision.”

Royal’s eyes glint with interest in my apparent pragmatism. “Who has he talked to, so far?”

“Only Sexton, who’s conveniently unconscious and almost sure to die by morning.”

Royal ponders these points for a few seconds. “How could I ever know I had all the copies of that tape?”

“You won’t. But you don’t need to lose sleep over that. The tape alone wouldn’t put you in the pen, especially if you can get your daughter to recant.”

He nods thoughtfully. “When do I get the witness’s name?”

“After my father’s safe in federal custody. That’s nonnegotiable. The same man saw you burn the Beacon last night, by the way.”

Royal finishes off his sandwich, sips his drink, then sets his glass on the credenza. “I don’t like it. But I guess I can live with it. There’s just one thing I don’t understand.”

“What’s that?”

“You.” The cool gray eyes gleam with curiosity. “I know about you, Cage. You’re a goddamn crusader. A bleeding heart. Why on earth would you do this deal?”

“In a word? Family. My father’s safety means more to me than some black guys who died thirty years ago. Nothing’s going to bring those men back. But this deal can keep my father alive.”

I almost believed this when I said it, to the point that it worries me. How far would I go to protect my father?

Royal considers my words, then chuckles with recognition. “Ain’t it something? When it comes down to family, a man’s basically got no choices. Everything else goes by the board. Blood trumps all.”

“We’re agreed, then?”

He cocks his head to one side, and again I see the raptor in him. “How do I know that once I give you what you want, your girlfriend won’t throw me to the dogs?”

“All I can give you is my word. But Caitlin loves my father, too. Even more than her career, and that’s saying something. She knows I’m here, and why I came. I can’t promise you that the FBI won’t eventually pick up on something and come after you, but you and Forrest ought to be able to blame those old murders on the older Double Eagles. Maybe even dead ones. Hell, blame Norris and Pooky Wilson on Frank Knox.”