Silent Justice: A Ben Kincaid Novel of Suspense

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Dedicated to F.W. “Steve” Stephenson, bookseller for more than fifty years, and a treasured friend to anyone who ever wrote a book

A good person once said, that where mystery begins, religion ends.

Cannot I say, as truly at least, of human laws, that where mystery begins, justice ends?

—Edmund Burke (1729-1797)

Prologue

Six Months Before

WHO LET HIM IN here? Ben Kincaid wondered.

He peered across the study quad at the scruffy-looking older man hovering near the front double doors to the University of Tulsa College of Law. Ben’s attention was drawn by the fact that the man was wearing a long overcoat; it was ill-fitting, wrinkled, and stained. The man’s chin was covered with salt-and-pepper stubble. His eyes were red and ringed, as if he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks. He was looking for something, or someone.

Ben couldn’t imagine who or what that might be. The man did not look as if he belonged here. Even the lawyers-to-be with the most rudimentary grasp of personal hygiene did not rise to this level of dishevelment. Ben wondered if maybe the man had gotten lost on his way to …

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