‘Well, you can’t blame me for trying.’ She stood up and squared her shoulders. She waited as he got off the bench, too, and then added: ‘So are you planning to stay in Florida?’

‘I guess I am,’ Cab said. ‘I’m not sure I’ll stay with the police, but I need a home base. This is actually a lovely place. And, as much as it pains me to admit it, I sort of like having you close by.’

‘Well, you charmer you,’ Tarla said. ‘Come on, let’s do this.’

‘Are you ready?’

‘As ready as I will be.’

They made their way to the tower, through the clutch of vines, past the webs of huge spiders, and finally broke onto the wideopen crest of the hillside. The bells above them had gone silent. The wind was loud and strong, like an ocean wave. He could see orange groves lining the land below them. That was where the killer had come from, an assassin in black marching through a cloud of citrus.

A wide path led from the tower itself, with soaring trees on either side, and ended in a broad swath of green lawn. ‘This is where they built the dais,’ Tarla said. ‘Diane and I were the first to be seated. She wasn’t feeling well.’

‘Why not?’

Tarla shook her head. ‘I don’t know. She didn’t say.’

‘What about the assassin?’

‘Nobody knew where he came from. However, we all knew what would happen when we saw him there. You could have asked anyone in the crowd. We knew people were going to die.’

‘Did he say anything?’ Cab asked.

‘No.’

‘Did anyone talk to him?’

‘Birch swore at him before he was shot. Other than that, there was simply screaming.’

‘What did Diane do?’

‘Diane? Nothing that I remember. She was frozen. In shock.’

‘Before the assassin shot Lyle, he turned toward Diane. You stood up and protected her.’

Tarla sighed. ‘I told you, I don’t remember that.’

‘You’re here now. You’ve never been back before. Close your eyes.’

She did, reluctantly. ‘Sorry, Cab, I don’t—’

‘Don’t talk.’

Tarla looked like a ghost, all in white with the wind mussing her blond hair. She inhaled, swelling her chest. The fabric of her dress fluttered. The two of them were alone, and except for the hillside breeze, the world was silent. No voices. No music. Sometimes it worked that way; sometimes the past could speak, if you invited it. He waited for her, and a minute passed, and then two minutes.

‘I don’t remember him,’ Tarla said, ‘but I remember what I felt.’

‘What was that?’

‘I remember thinking he was an ordinary man. How odd that was. I was taller than him. He just didn’t seem like … I don’t know.’

‘A soldier?’ Cab said softly.

Tarla opened her eyes. ‘No, he certainly didn’t seem like a soldier.’

‘Do you remember anything else?’