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brain—secrets important enough to kill to protect, or at least important enough to obliterate a man’s memory to keep secret.
    The Man in the Suit, who drove an Audi sedan and always wore a suit, kept showing up at unpredictable times to check on what memories Calhoun might have recovered. It was pretty clear that Calhoun had once known important secrets. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that now, if he ever did happen to remember one of them, it would be prudent to pretend he didn’t.
    The Man in the Suit tried to bribe Calhoun with information about his past life. Calhoun pretended he didn’t care about that. He was a lucky man, he said, getting to start over again with a clean slate.
    There were times, though, when Stonewall Jackson Calhoun ached to know something about his parents, or if he’d been married, or, especially, if he had any children.
    Calhoun looked down at the Man in the Suit. “It all makes sense now,” he said. “Why’re you doing these things to us? What the hell do you want?”
    The Man in the Suit cocked his head and smiled. “What’re you talking about, Stoney?”
    Calhoun jacked the cartridge out of the .30-30 onto the deck, picked it up and stuck it in his pocket, and leaned the rifle against the wall. Then he sat in the other Adirondack chair. “Losing the lease on the shop,” he said. “The rehab place saying they’re going to kick Walter out. You didn’t need to do that. You want something out of me, why don’t you just ask?”
    The Man in the Suit lifted his Coke can to his mouth. His throat clenched like a fist. Then he put the can on the table. “
Me
ask
you
for a favor?” he said. “You know the answer to that one.”
    â€œYou might’ve tried before bringing all this bad luck into my life,” said Calhoun, “and it ain’t right, making Kate part of it.”
    The Man in the Suit shrugged. “I could’ve asked,” he said, “and you, of course, would’ve told me to go to hell, and if I then proceeded to threaten you, you’d’ve just laughed at me, and so then I’d’ve had to show you that we were serious about needing your help, so time being of the essence here, we figured we’d streamline the process and show you we were serious before asking you.” He gave Calhoun a quick flash of his gray, humorless smile. “So now you know how serious we are about this. You want to lose your shop, and you want Kate’s husband out on the sidewalk in his wheelchair, all you’ve got to do is say no to me.”
    â€œWhat if I say yes?” said Calhoun.
    â€œMr. Eldon Camby’s buyer changes his mind,” said the Man in the Suit, “and the shop’s lease comes up for renewal. Meanwhile, a vice president in the insurance company’s corporate headquarters in New York overrules the folks in the Maine office, and Walter’s place in that nice rehab facility in Scarborough is secured for the rest of his life.”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œJust as soon as I’ve got your word, Stoney. Tomorrow. This weekend at the latest. We haven’t got a lot of time. It’s up to you.”
    â€œI don’t know what you want from me.”
    â€œNo,” said the Man in the Suit, “you don’t, and you’re not getting it from me. I don’t have any details anyway, nor would I be authorized to share them with you if I did. I just need you to agree to do it. I guess you’ve got to trust me. All I can say is that it’s something you’re uniquely suited to do. In fact, there’s nobody else we know of with the combination of skills and knowledge and personality required by this job. Only you. If there were somebody else, I probably wouldn’t be here talking to a hostile man with no memory who doesn’t like me. On the other hand, Stoney, we’ve been taking good care of you all these