by Brian Haig
I saw Lisa’s family, of course, Mr. Morrow in a wheelchair, Aunt Ethel glowering angrily at the skies, and Elizabeth, and Carol, and of course, Janet. I had picked up Felix, Lisa’s apartment manager, on my way over. I couldn’t see him, but he was there. Cy had sent flowers, but he was not there.
And I looked out at them all, a quiet, huddled mass, and I then looked at the black casket poised over the rectangular hole. I said, “I have the great honor to say the last words. I promise to be brief, because Lisa would not want me to be otherwise. Seneca once warned, ‘Men do not care how nobly they live, but only how long they live, although it is within the reach of every man to live nobly, but within no man’s power to live long. ’”
I paused and we all examined the snowflakes bouncing off Lisa’s casket. I said, “She lived nobly-as a soldier, and as a lawyer, she epitomized the best of both. She was my friend, she was all our friend.”
I turned to the captain in charge of the honor guard and said, “Begin.” Two sergeants stepped forward, removed the American flag, and folded it into a compact triangle. The flag was handed to the captain, who presented it to Janet, Lisa’s shadow, as her father had requested.
The shots rang through the air, and the crowd jumped a little, as they always do. The bugle sang its mournful song, and we all cried and watched the black casket descend with painful solemnity into the dark hole a ruthless killer had made her destiny.
I lingered and stared down into the grave as the crowd of mourners slowly trickled past and then made their slow trek back up the hill of Arlington National Cemetery where so many have trod. I had finally put together all the pieces of this, the last secret, if you will. Lisa had known something was seriously amiss in the firm. She had accepted their offer of partnership, because she wanted their trust, because she wanted to expose them, because it was in her nature to rid the world of evil things. But she had not understood the evil thing she was toying with, and that had cost her her life.
I would return here in a few days, and we would have a long and friendly chat. I would tell her how it all ended up, and I would tell her how much I missed her. I reached into my wallet and withdrew her Army photo, which had become crinkled and creased. I kissed it, and then dropped it in the hole.
When I finally looked up, Janet stood directly beside me.
She was staring at me, I think trying to figure out how to break this gently. We had been thrown together by murder and the tumultuous events that grew out of it, that had obviously led to weird emotional currents. Fear, desperation, love, jealousy, and great tidal waves of greed. But all that was over, and who knew what remained.
She said, “That was beautifully said, Sean. Thank you.”
I said nothing.
She stared down at the casket. “The news reported the L. A. Killer was killed, resisting arrest.”
“Live by the sword, die by the sword.”
“And that Jason Morris died in a diving accident.”
“I read that.”
“And Hal Merriweather committed suicide.”
“A fitting end for a miserable little man.”
She looked up at the sky, then back at me. “How did you do it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. I want to know.”
“You should believe what you read in the newspapers, Janet.” But after a pause, I said, “Qui facit per alium facit per se.”
After a moment, she said, “He who does through another does through himself.”
“Is that what it means?”
She smiled. She then said, “Lisa once told me the thing she liked most about you was your loyalty.”
I shrugged. “And what do you most like about me?”
“Who said I like anything about you?”
“Right.”
She put her hand on my arm. “I’m joking.”
After another pause, I asked, “How’s George?”
“He wasn’t invited to the funeral.”
“Right.”
She said, “Thank you for the money, by the way. We decided to give it to charity. Twenty-two million dollars to the Old Soldier’s Home, in Lisa’s name and memory.”
Oh, yes, the money. Remember when I mentioned Clapper and I had that little chat? Well, I agreed to turn over my loot, but insisted that my lawyer, Janet Morrow, had earned her cut for fair and valid legal services rendered. She was not a federal employee, I had hired her for her services, and no law in the land could deprive her of that cash. He got back on the horn to the JAG School, and they agreed I had a good point. But half the money was out of the question; I’d been overly generous, they insisted. Well, I couldn’t argue with that, and I didn’t try. The generally accepted legal fee was one-third, approximately twenty-two million.
I informed Janet, “She would’ve liked that.” I saw old Felix up at the top of the hill, waiting patiently. I said, “She had a thing for old soldiers.”
“Yes, I think you’re right.”
After a quiet moment, I said, “Well, listen, I better get back to work. I’m back to working criminal cases, incidentally.”
I started to walk away, and Janet said, “Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Do you think… would Lisa… would she be upset if I became involved with you?”
“She’d tell you you’re nuts.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
I took three more steps before I turned around. “What hotel did you say you’re staying at?”
“The Four Seasons again.”
“Nice place.”
She nodded.
I took three more steps and turned around again. “Seven o’clock sharp. I swear I won’t be late.”
She shook her head. “Take your time, I’ve still got my gun.”
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