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I listened to the piece over and over, thinking about the victims whom I’d uncovered and to some degree whom I had avenged. I thought about the truth that undergirded the lies circulated by the institutions of governments, large and small. That was, I knew, my excuse for taking the payoff.

37.

Aja called me in the morning. They were back from Florida and she wanted to ditch school to meet me for lunch. I was her father and should have said no, but instead I agreed and called the school, telling them that I was keeping her out for the day.

We met at noon at our favorite pizza place across the avenue from Lincoln Center. There they made simple pizzas on the thinnest crust imaginable.

“What happened to your hair?” was the first thing she said.

“I thought I’d take up track,” I joked. “Cutting off my hair makes me aerodynamic.”

She wasn’t amused.

“Are you okay now, Daddy?”

Instead of answering, I hugged and kissed her; then we sat at a window table.

“Almost.”

“Why only almost?”

“The best thing I can ever teach you, honey, is that the truth will kick you in the ass.”

She giggled; then the waitress came to take our order.

“Are you getting kicked at by the truth?” Aja asked me when the server departed.

“Yeah.”

“Can I help?”

“You know how I was gettin’ on you about how you were dressed?”

“Yeah?”

“Whenever I do something like that you should listen to what I say but do what you want.”

“I usually do,” she said.

“Don’t I know it?”

“But you’re almost always right, Daddy.”

The concern on her face made her look older and, in my opinion, even more beautiful.

“I was real worried about you when we went away,” she added. “I hardly slept at all. One night I woke up and found Mom sitting on the couch in our suite.”

“You had a suite?”

“Coleman said that we should have it so that we were together. He was pretty scared.”

“What about your mother?”

“I told her how worried I was about you and she said that she was too.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh. You know what she said?”