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“Well, there was something else he said that I caught. I mean I guess I should have told you before, but I really believed I must have misheard. But maybe I didn’t.”
“What was it?” asked King eagerly.
“It was a name. A name I recognized.”
King and Michelle exchanged glances.
“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” asked Michelle.
“Like I said, because I couldn’t believe I’d heard right. I didn’t want to get him in any trouble. And my father secretly meeting with a stranger late at night and his name coming up—well, to a fourteen-year-old girl it seemed bad. But I knew he’d never do something illegal.”
“Whose name was mentioned?” asked King.
Kate took a very deep breath. King noted that she was now bending the straws into knots.
“The name I heard the man say was Thornton Jorst.”
Michelle and King once more exchanged a significant glance.
“You’re sure,” said Michelle. “You heard him say Thornton Jorst?”
“I’m not one hundred percent certain, no, but what else could it have been? It’s not exactly a name like John Smith. It sure sounded like Thornton Jorst.”
“What was your father’s reaction to that name?”
“I couldn’t hear that clearly. But he said something like it was risky, very risky. For both of them.”
King thought about this. “So the other man wasn’t Thornton Jorst—that seems clear—but they were talking about him.” He touched Kate on the shoulder. “Tell us about Jorst’s relationship with your father.”
“They were friends and colleagues.”
“Had they known each other before coming to work at Atticus?” asked Michelle.
Kate shook her head. “I don’t think so, no. If they did, they certainly never mentioned it. But they were both in college in the sixties. People went all over the country doing insane things. It’s funny, though.”
“What is?” asked King.
“Well, sometimes it seemed to me that Thornton knew my mother better than he knew my father. Like they’d met before.”
“Did your mother ever mention that they had?”
“No. Thornton came to Atticus after my parents did. He was a bachelor, never really dated that I could tell. My parents were very friendly with him. I think my mother felt sorry for him. She would bake him little things and take them over to him. They were good friends. I really liked him. He was almost like an un
cle to me.”
Michelle said slowly, “Kate, do you think your mother—”
Kate interrupted her. “No, they weren’t having an affair. I know I was very young back then, but still I would have known.”
King didn’t look convinced but said, “The man who met with your father, he mentioned your mother, Regina?”
“Yes. I’m assuming he must have known one or both of my parents. But look, I really can’t believe Thornton is mixed up in any of this. He’s just not the type to run around with guns plotting to kill people. He didn’t have my father’s genius or his academic credentials, but he’s a good professor.”
King nodded. “Right, he didn’t have your father’s brains or Berkeley Ph.D. background, and yet they ended up at the same college. Any idea why?”
“Why what?” Kate had assumed a defensive tone.
Michelle said, “Why your father wasn’t teaching at, say, Harvard or Yale. In addition to his Berkeley career, he authored four books that I was told were easily in the top ten in their field. He was a serious scholar, a real heavyweight.”
