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farmer. I helped keep the rest of you folks fed.” He held his cigarette aloft, peering at it. “Had a decent tobacco crop going for a while, too, until the government starting hounding the tobacco companies and poking its nose in where it wasn’t wanted.”
    “Roberts,” Zach repeated thoughtfully. “Weren’t you one of the backhoe operators who worked on the cathedral project? Part of Sam Wright’s crew?”
    Roberts met Zach’s look squarely, almost daringly. “Yeah, and you’re the bigwig in charge of the whole shebang. I’m surprised you’d remember one of us lowly peons.”
    “I try to keep abreast of every aspect of any project I take on,” Zach replied. “That includes material and labor. I recall you particularly, because Sam commented on your ability to repair or operate almost any piece of machinery on the construction site.”
    Roberts shrugged. “Not much different than running a tractor or combine, when it comes down to it.”
    “Sam was impressed. You know, he’s generally a pretty decent judge of character. Runs a clean crew. No drunks. Nobody into hard drugs. Somehow, I get the feeling he missed something vital about you.”
    “Well, ol’ Sam’s a good guy, and a fair foreman, but he ain’t perfect,” Roberts allowed. “Everybody makes a mistake now and ag’in.”
    “What was yours?” Zach asked more pointedly. “The one that got you arrested?”
    Roberts chuckled. “Wondered how long you was gonna dance around the barn b’fore you got to the door, Goldstein.”
    “So enlighten us,” Zach persisted. “What crime did you commit that was serious enough to haul you all the way back to the U.S. in handcuffs? What was it, Roberts? Robbery? Tax evasion? Hit and run?”
    The man smirked. “Yeah, I reckon you could call it hit and run. I hit my whorin’ wife in the head with a bullet and ran like hell.”
    The others stared at him, aghast.
    The corporal let loose a low whistle. “Holy crap, man! You killed her?”
    “Deader than a doorknob,” Roberts declared. His face was defiant, as if he were proud of the dastardly deed.
    “You … you murdered your wife?” Kelly stammered.
    “Because she cheated on you?” Alita exclaimed in disbelief.
    “What kind of low-life swamp rat are you?” the steward speculated with disgust.
    “You’re insane!” Blair added, her expression one of fear and revulsion. “They need to lock you up and throw away the key!”
    Roberts glared at her, his beefy hands forming hard fists. “Hey! You didn’t have to live with the bitch! I reckon by killin’ her, I did myself and the world one huge favor.” While Roberts’s attention had been focuse d on the others, Zach had quietl y approached the big farmer from the rear. Now, he reached out and grabbed the man around the neck in a choke hold. “Corporal! Get the handcuffs out of my pocket!” he yelled.
    Roberts went wild. With an enraged roar, he rose up, his hands tearing at Zach’s arms as he tried to buck the smaller man off him. But Zach hung on, tightening his hold until Roberts’ face was a dull red. The soldier, having retrieved the cuffs, had to dodge and weave around them, but he finally managed to fasten the shackles. Then he added his own weight to Zach’s and between them they finally subdued their captive.
    “You … you ain’t cops!” Roberts wheezed furiously. “You got no right to do this!”
    Zach pressed his knee more firmly between Roberts’s shoulder blades. “Shut up! We have every right to protect ourselves against a madman in our midst.”
    With the soldier’s help, Zach re-adjusted the cuffs, secur in g Roberts’ hands firmly behind him, in a manner designed to render him more powerless than if they’d left them to the fore. “Now, this is the way it’s going to be, Roberts. We’re taking you down with us, and we’re going to turn you over to the law. Until then, you’re going to behave yourself, or I’m going to stomp a mudhole in you r ass.”
    “And