“Taduz Lemke,” Penschley said calmly. “The father of the woman you struck with your car. Yes, he’s with them.” “Father?” Halleck barked. “That’s impossible, Kirk! The woman was old, around seventy, seventy-five—” “Taduz Lemke is a hundred and six.” For several moments Billy found it impossible to speak at all. His lips moved, but that was all. He looked like a man kissing a ghost. Then he managed to repeat: “That’s impossible.” “An age we all could certainly envy,” Kirk Penschley said, “but not at all impossible. There are records on all of these people, you know—they’re not wandering around
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