"Oh, no, no, no." Addison shook his head in an exaggerated loss of patience. "You're muddling my crimes. Why would I kill the dispatcher? She had no idea where her bribe money came from. Her only job that night was diverting you to a surprise party-during a tour of duty-an insignificant crime. When you called in for backup and the dispatcher heard the shots and screams-that's when she realized what kind of a party it was. And she ran away. I'm told she didn't even finish out her shift."

"The dispatcher never called for help? She was the one who left me to die?"

"Yes. I couldn't have planned for that to happen. However, I am a creature of opportunity. Shame to waste the makings of a good lawsuit. But that woman I found with Josh-well, I have no idea who she was. And who cares?" He raised the cane and punctuated the beats of an admonition with strikes to Swahn's shoulders and his head. "She has nothing to do with my story."

Addison tossed his hair and tilted his head to one side. "Where was I? Oh, yes. I was carving up the face of a dead child. And then I found myself a good hiding place in the trees. I wish you could've seen Sarah's expression when she walked into the clearing and found Josh lying there. It was marvelous-insane, yet sympathetic, too. She screamed. She wept. I wondered if she would recognize my handwriting in that bloody scar I carved into the boy's skin. It was an A just like yours."

A cut above Swahn's eye half blinded him, drops falling to the carpet as if he cried blood tears. The unobscured eye had the glaze of shock. But the man was paying attention.

Addison continued. "She started digging his grave. That surprised me. I thought she'd run-but no. Sarah knelt down beside the boy and tried to scratch out a grave with her bare hands. Well, eventually, she came to her senses and gave up on that idea. She went home and came back with a shovel. Much more practical for grave-digging. I assume she met you on the road and warned you off."

"I was never there."

This time, Addison rained blows on the man's damaged leg, saying all the while, so calmly, "It's-rude-to-inter-rupt."

Swahn cried out.

So satisfying.

Sarah Winston stared at the flagstones of the terrace below. Her grip on the rail was tenuous.

She looked up to the sky, asking heavenly bodies if she should stay or go. She interpreted the blinks and winks of planets and the ponderous movements of stars. Yes, they were all in agreement. It was time to leave the earth.

"The grave Sarah dug was much too shallow," said Addison. "I came back later and dug a deeper hole, a wider one-so I could bury the woman's body, too. When I was done, you couldn't tell there'd been any digging at all. I scattered the excess dirt so as not to leave an obvious mound. And I spread leaves to complete my camouflage. One last touch-and this is delicious. I left Josh's camera to mark the grave for Sarah. I knew she'd come back. How I wish I could've seen her face when she found that camera. It must've driven her wild."

"You can't kill Sarah. She's an innocent."

"It doesn't look that way. I'm speaking as a lawyer now. She tried to hide the evidence of a murder, and I think we both know why. Given that big bloody A carved into the boy's face, the sheriff would've knocked on your door first. Cable Babitt's a plodding dolt, but he could hardly miss that connection." Addison leaned in close. "She must've loved you very much. And now I need to hear your confession." He looked toward the ceiling, as if he could see through it to the tower room above. "I don't think poor Sarah's up to it. I want every detail of your affair with my wife."

"She was my friend," said William. "I never touched her."

"Liar."

A small voice called down to them, "It's true." Sarah stood at the top of the stairs. Her words were faint, and both men strained to hear her. She looked down at her husband's upturned grinning face. "Mavis Hardy was the one I met in the woods every Saturday, when she closed the library for lunch. We went birding together. You didn't want me to have any friends… so I never mentioned her. But after I saw what you'd done to Josh…" Her voice trailed off to whispers, and she spoke to the air above their heads. "Bad things happen to my friends, so I stopped seeing Mavis… And how could I ever face William again?"

She could not face him now. Her eyes were vacant, seeing nothing. Sarah was gone even before she turned around and left him lying there. William stretched out one hand, as if he could reach her that way. He struggled to climb the next step. "She's going back to the tower. Addison, stop her. She's in a dangerous state of mind."

"Stop her?" The lawyer pressed one hand to his breast in mock surprise. "Don't you believe that the bird queen can fly?" He fished his wallet from a back pocket. "Ah, well, maybe you're right. She might need a little help, a gentle nudge in the right direction. But can she fly? That's the question." He opened the wallet and pulled out a bill. "I've got twenty dollars here that says she drops like a stone."

"She never cheated on you, Addison."

"Lies." He laid down the cane to pull a folded sheet of paper from his inside pocket. "I've got the proof-one of your old love letters." The paper was falling apart in the creases, having been read too many times by a madman. He opened it and held it up and pointed to the bottom line. "That's your signature."

Hannah rolled up the driveway and parked in front of the house. Stepping out of the car, she said to the judge, "The engine's sputtering some. Maybe we should have it looked at."

"Here's an idea," said Oren, with the mildest sarcasm. "Why don't you guys buy a new car?"

"I suppose it's time," said the judge. "But you know this old Mercedes runs fine. It's probably just low on gas." He turned to Hannah. "That's what happens when you spend the night playing taxi driver for every drunken man, woman and child in Coventry."

She marched up the stairs and into the house. The screen door slammed behind her, a message to tell him that she was in no mood for criticism tonight.

The judge called after her, "We'll get a new car, all right? We'll get two new cars."

"I called the sheriff's office," said William Swahn.

"And they laughed at you, right? You told them you saw a man dance with his wife? Something like that?" Addison Winston tapped his temple with one finger to illustrate a mind at work. "I anticipated you." Theatrically, he cupped his ears with both hands. "Do I hear sirens in the distance?" He lowered his hands. "No, I'm afraid not."

"I made another call."

Isabelle's limousine was headed homeward, but only moving at the legal limit. She renewed her quarrel with the chauffer. "Yes, you can go faster. It's late, and all the state troopers are asleep by the side of the road. I promise you won't get a ticket." She reached through the opening in the glass partition and emptied her wallet on the front seat beside the driver.

The limousine sped up, but not fast enough, and she had no more money to buy another twenty miles per hour.

The screen door was pushed open so hard it banged against the porch wall, and Hannah came flying out. "Mr. Swahn left a message on the answering machine. There's trouble at the Winston lodge. No idea when he called, but he said to come quick."

Oren snatched the keys from her outstretched hand. When he slid behind the wheel of the Mercedes, the engine would not turn over.

"I misspoke." The judge turned to Hannah. "The car's not low on gas-it's out of gas."