The Twelfth Card

that happening now.”
    “Why?” Sachs asked.
    Jax gave a wistful grin. “I saw where she lives, that nice place near Morningside. I was happy for her, of course, real happy. She’ll have herself two good foster parents taking care of her, maybe a brother or sister, which she always wanted but that didn’t work out, after Venus had such a bad time at the clinic. Why’d Geneva wanta come back with me? She’s got the life she deserves, everything I couldn’t give her.”
    Rhyme glanced at Sachs with a raised eyebrow. Jax didn’t catch it.
    His story was sounding legit to Rhyme. But he had a thick vein of policeman’s skepticism in him. “I want to ask you a few questions.”
    “Anything.”
    “Who’s the aunt you mentioned?”
    “My father’s sister. Lilly Hall. She helped raise me. Widow twice over. She’d’ve turned ninety this year. August. If she’s still with us.”
    Rhyme had no clue about her age or birthday but that was the name Geneva had given them. “She’s still alive, yes.”
    A smile. “I’m glad about that. I’ve missed her. I couldn’t find her either.”
    Bell said, “You told Geneva something about the word ‘sir.’ What would that’ve been?”
    “I told her even when she was little to look people in the eye and always be respectful, but never to call anyone ‘sir’ or ‘ma’am’ unless they earned it.”
    The Carolina detective nodded to Rhyme and Sachs.
    The criminalist asked, “Who’s Charles Singleton?”
    Jax blinked in surprise. “How d’you know about him?”
    “Answer the man, scurv,” Dellray snapped.
    “He’s my, I don’t know, great-great-great-great-grandfather or something.”
    “Keep going,” Rhyme encouraged.
    “Well, he was a slave in Virginia. His master freed him and his wife and gave ’em a farm up north. Then he volunteered to be in the Civil War, you know, like in that movie Glory. He came back home after, worked his orchard and taught at his school—an African free school. Made money selling cider to workers building boats up the road from his farm. I know he got medals in the war. He even met Abraham Lincoln once in Richmond. Just after the Union troops took it over. Or that’s what my daddy said.” Another sad laugh. “Then there was this story he got himself arrested for stealing some gold or payroll or something and went to jail. Just like me.”
    “Do you know what happened to him after prison?”
    “No. Never heard anything about that. So, you believe that I’m Geneva’s father?”
    Dellray looked at Rhyme, cocked an eyebrow.
    The criminalist sized the man up. “Almost. One last thing. Open your mouth.”
    *   *   *
    “You’re my father ?”
    Breathless, nearly dizzy from the news, Geneva Settle felt her heart pounding. She looked him overcarefully, her eyes scanning his face, his shoulders, his hands. Her first reaction had been utter disbelief but she couldn’t deny that she recognized him. He still wore the garnet ring that her mother, Venus, had given him for Christmas—when they were still celebrating Christmas. The memory she compared this man with, though, was vague, like looking at someone with bright sun behind them.
    Despite the driver’s license, the picture of her as a baby with him and her mother, the photo of one of his old graffiti drawings, she still would’ve denied the connection between them to the last, except for a DNA test that Mr. Cooper had run. There was no doubt they were kin.
    They were alone upstairs—alone, of course, except for Detective Bell, her protective shadow. The rest of the police officers were downstairs working on the case, still trying to figure out who was behind the jewelry exchange robbery.
    But Mr. Rhyme and Amelia and all the others—as well as the killer and everything else about the frightening events of the past few days—were, for the moment, forgotten. The questions that now consumed Geneva were: How had her father gotten here? And why?
    And, most important: What does this mean for me?
    A nod at the shopping bag. She picked up the Dr. Seuss book. “I don’t read children’s books anymore.” It was all she could think of to say. “I turned sixteen two months ago.” Her point, she guessed, was to remind him of all the birthdays she’d spent alone.
    “I brought you those just so you’d know it was me. I know you’re too old for them.”
    “What about your other family?” she asked coldly.
    Jax shook his head. “They told me what Venus said to