She turns back to him with a knowing smile. “Come, now. You’re a smart man. I’m suggesting that you and Mr. Cage made a deal of sorts. Mr. Cage hated Leo Marston, you hated John Portman. Alone, neither of you could do much to destroy those men. But together—”

“Objection,” I say at last.

Livy smiles. “I withdraw the question, Your Honor. And I have no further questions for this witness.”

I can’t understand why she’s releasing Stone so soon until she says, “If this is Mr. Cage’s final witness, I would very much like to call Mr. Cage at this time as a rebuttal witness.”

Her suggestion stuns me. All I can think to say is, “Ms. Sutter is out of order, Judge.”

“Just a moment,” says Franklin. “You are excused, Mr. Stone. But don’t leave the courthouse.”

Stone makes no move to leave the witness box. He looks down at Livy with contempt and says, “You’re not worth a hangnail on Catherine Neumaier’s little finger. Your father is a murderer, and you know it. But you stand there—”

“Mr. Stone!” snaps Franklin. “Leave the stand, or I’ll be forced to hold you in contempt.”

Stone looks away from Livy like a man looking away from a dead enemy, then limps off the stand with his soldier’s bearing. As he passes me, he stops, shakes my hand, and leans close.

“I told you you didn’t want me as a witness.”

I squeeze his hand and whisper, “Bullshit. I wanted the truth, and you gave it to me. The question is, was the jury ready for it?”

As Stone passes the spectators’ benches, his cane rapping on the hardwood floor, his daughter rises, takes his elbow, and helps him toward the doors.

“Ms. Sutter,” says Judge Franklin. “This is an unusual request. Whose testimony are you calling Mr. Cage to rebut?”

“Mr. Stone’s, Your Honor.”

Franklin considers this for a few moments. “Mr. Cage, do you plan to call additional witnesses?”

I had planned to recall Portman, but now that Livy has undercut everything Stone said by making him look bent on revenge, I’m not sure what to do. And now she wants to question me? I suppose she is finally answering the question of how far she is willing to go.

“I have no more witnesses, Your Honor.”

“Does the defense rest, then?”

A strange sense of sadness flows through me, not for myself but for Althea Payton, sitting out there in the benches. She nods at me as though to say, At least we tried. “Subject to calling rebuttal witnesses, the defense rests.”

“Very well. Please take the stand, Mr. Cage.”