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But, using language as a tool, names can deceive. They can hide secrets as discreetly—and discretely—as a mask. As faithlessly as a lie. CHAPTER ONE MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 23, 1963 The young lady in the blue pillbox hat tore the outbound coupon from my ticket, handed the booklet back to me, and wished me a pleasant flight. Moments later, I boarded a gleaming Pan Am 707, destination Rome, and found my seat next to a ruddy-faced businessman in a tight-fitting seersucker suit. He introduced himself—Harvey Turner of
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James W. Ziskin (Turn to Stone (Ellie Stone, #7))