If I survive this war, I'll burn the letter. Don't blame the others, will you? They hadn't known what he was doing, but when I told them, they believed me and did their best to save me. I was always grateful.
And below Reginald's signature was a postscript. Forgive me, Ian, for exacting a promise once I discovered you were a policeman. In truth, our friendship was genuine. And I have tried to make up for that night, short of confessing. Does that mean William Norman won after all?
Rutledge read it again, then folded it and returned the sheet to the envelope.
Would he take it to Cummins-who knew much of the story already? He himself had been zealous in search of a truth not for the sake of that truth but because he was a good policeman and it was his duty to pursue the guilty. What truth would be served by closing the case, when the principals were beyond the law's reach?
Rutledge didn't know. Just now his duty was to bury the recent dead and mourn them with honor.
Hamish said, "Do ye regret giving your forgiveness before ye knew why you were being asked?"
Rutledge said, "I don't. God knows, I need forgiveness of my own."
He walked back to the house. Rosemary was ready, and it was time to follow Reginald to his final rest.