Fiske stared moodily out the car window at the dark clouds. He and Sara were halfway to Washington, and neither one had said much on the drive up. Sara turned on the wipers as the rain started to fall. She looked over at him and frowned. John, weve got a lot of information to work with. We might want to use the next hour making some sense of it all.

Fiske glanced at her. I guess youre right. Do you have pen and paper anywhere?

Dont you have that in your briefcase?

He undid his seat belt, pulled his briefcase from the back seat and popped it open. He pushed through the stack of mail until his hands closed around a bulky package. Christ, that was fast.

What?

I think this is Harmss service record. Fiske tore it open and started reading. Ten minutes later, he looked at her. Its in two different parts. His service record, portions of the record of court-martial, and the personnel list from Fort Plessy during the time Harms was stationed there. Fiske pulled out a section marked MEDICAL RECORDS. He studied the pages and then stopped. Would you like to guess why Rufus Harms was so insubordinate, wouldnt take orders, was always in trouble?

He was dyslexic, Sara answered promptly.

How the hell did you know that?

A couple of things. Even the little I saw of it, the handwriting and spelling on the appeal was so bad. Thats a sign of dyslexia, although its not conclusive. But when I talked to George Barker, remember he told me that story about Rufus fixing his printing press? Fiske nodded. Well, he recalled Rufus saying that he didnt want to look at the manual for the printing press, that the words would just mess him up. I went to school with a girl who had dyslexia. She once told me more or less the same thing. Its like you cant communicate with the world. Although, from our encounter last night, it looks like Rufus has conquered his disability.

If he can survive in prison all those years with people trying to kill him, he can do anything he sets his mind to. Fiske looked back at the records. Looks like he was diagnosed with it after the murder. Probably during the court-martial proceedings. Maybe Rider discovered it. Preparing a defense requires some client cooperation.

Dyslexia is not a defense to murder.

No, but I know what is.

What? Sara asked excitedly. What?

First, a question: Leo Dellasandro is he having an affair with his secretary?

Why are you asking that?

He had makeup on his coat collar.

Maybe it was from his wife.

Maybe, but I dont think so.

I really doubt he was having an affair, because his secretary just got married.

I didnt think they were.

So why did you ask me?

Just covering all the bases. I dont think Dellasandro got it from his wife either. I think he was wearing it.

Why would a man a chief of police, no less be wearing makeup?

To cover the bruises he got when I hit him in my brothers apartment. Saras breath caught as Fiske continued. I havent seen Dellasandro since that night. He wasnt at the meeting at the Court after Wright was murdered. Ive been with Chandler a lot and the man never came by to check up on the investigation. At least while I was there. I think he was avoiding me. Maybe afraid Id recognize him somehow.

Why in the world would Leo Dellasandro have been at your brothers apartment?

In response, Fiske held up a sheaf of papers. The list of personnel stationed at Fort Plessy. Luckily, its alphabetized. He turned toward the end of the roster. Sergeant Victor Tremaine. He turned another page. Captain Frank Rayfield. He flipped back through some pages and stopped. Private Rufus Harms. Then he went back near the beginning, circled a name with his pen, and said triumphantly, And Corporal Leo Dellasandro.

Good God. Then Rayfield, Tremaine and Dellasandro were the men in the stockade that night?

I think so.

How did you know Dellasandro was in the military?

I saw a photo of Dellasandro in his office. He was much younger, in uniform. HisArmyuniform. I think the three of them went there to teach Rufus Harms a lesson. I think well find they all fought in Vietnam, and Rufus didnt. He wouldnt follow orders, was always in trouble.

But what the hell did theydoto Rufus Harms?

I think they

The car phone rang. Sara glanced at Fiske and then picked it up. Her face went pale as she listened. Yes, Ill accept the call. Hello? What? Okay, calm down. Hes right here. She handed the phone to Fiske. Rufus Harms. And he doesnt sound good.

Fiske gripped the phone. Rufus, where are you?

Rufus was inside the Jeep parked next to a pay phone. He had one hand on the phone, the other on Josh, who was now slipping into longer periods of unconsciousness, but still had the pistol wedged against his side. Richmond, he answered. Im two minutes from the address on the card you gave me. Josh is hurt bad. I need a damn doctor and I need him quick.

Okay, okay, tell me what happened.

Rayfield and Tremaine caught up to us.

Where are they now?

Theyre dead, dammit, and my brothers about ready to join em. You said youd help me. Well, I need help.

Fiske glanced in the rearview mirror. The black sedan was still back there. He thought quickly. Okay, Ill meet you at my office in four hours tops.

Josh aint got four hours. Hes shot the hell up.

Were going to take care of Josh right now, Rufus. Im meeting you, not Josh.

What the hell you talking about?

Im going to call a buddy of mine whos a cop. Hell get an ambulance. Theyll take care of him. MCV Hospital is only a few minutes from my office.

No police!

Fiske yelled into the phone, Do you want Josh to die? Do you? Fiske took the silence as Rufuss surrender to whatever help Fiske could give him. Describe the car to me and give me the intersection where you are right now. Rufus did so. My friend will have help there in a few minutes. Leave Josh in the car. As soon as you hang up, walk to my office building. Its open. Go in the front door and go down the flight of stairs on your left. You go through another door. Theres a door on your right marked Supplies. Its unlocked. Get in there and sit tight. Ill be down quick as I can. I also want you to take your brothers wallet because I dont want him to have any ID. If they know its Josh, theyre going to start looking for you nearby. That includes my office. The police cordoning off the area would throw a real wrench in my plan.

What if somebody sees me? Maybe recognizes me?

We dont have much choice now, Rufus.

Im trusting you. Please help my brother. Please dont let me down.

Rufus, Im trusting you too. Dont let me down.

When Rufus hung up, he looked at Josh. He slipped a gun under his shirt and reached out to touch his brother. He thought Josh was completely unconscious now, but when Rufus brushed his shoulder gently with his finger, Josh opened his eyes.

Josh

I heard. The voice was weak; everything about him was now.

He wants me to take your wallet, so they wont know who you are just yet.

In my back pocket. Rufus slid it out. Now get going.

Rufus considered this for a moment. I can stay with you. We go together.

No good. Josh spit up some more blood. Docsll sew me up. I been hurt a lot worse than this. Josh moved a shaky hand out, touched his brothers face, brushed away the wetness from his eyes.

Im gonna stay with you, Josh.

You stay, all this is for nothing.

I cant leave you alone. Not like this. Not after all these years away.

With a painful grimace, Josh sat up. You aint leaving me alone. Give it to me.

Give you what?

Josh said, The Bible.

Without taking his eyes off his brother, Rufus slowly reached behind the seat and handed him the book. In return, Josh held out the pistol that had been wedged against his ribs for all these hours. Rufus looked at him questioningly. Fair swap, Josh said hoarsely. Rufus thought he saw a smile flicker across his brothers lips before Josh closed his eyes, his breathing shallow but steady. One large hand gripped the Bible so tightly the spine of the book twisted. As Rufus climbed out of the Jeep, he looked back once more, and then left his brother behind. *����*����* Fiske finally reached Hawkins at home. Dont ask me why or how, Billy. I cant tell you who it is. For now hes a John Doe. Stall the paperwork and drive the Jeep to the hospital. Fiske hung up.