“Mrs. Lockwood, you don’t have to tell me all this.”
“You’re my lawyer. I’m supposed to be able to tell you everything. Isn’t that right?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re supposed to be able to keep it to yourself. I figured on that from the beginning when I chose you... One of the nurses in the private hospital was Reed. I hired him to help me bring B. J. home and take care of him. The three of us became not friends exactly, more like allies, allies against fate, against injustice. Reed had had a bum deal, too. He fitted in.”
She got up and opened one of the drapes slightly. A shaft of sun struck the dying man across his chest.
“There was nothing I could do for B. J. except watch him die, moment by moment, inch by inch. I had such a terrible feeling of helplessness until it occurred to me one day, I don’t even remember when, that there was something I could do, after all. I could find the people who corrupted him, who destroyed him, and make sure that they died, too. Tula, Jenkins, the judge, they had to die, and they had to die before he did, so I could tell him about it and he would know he was avenged. I told him. He knew.”
“Maybe he didn’t want to know. Maybe he didn’t even like the idea of vengeance. It was your idea, wasn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“And Reed’s work.”
“Yes.”
“You fed Reed the information I passed on to you. You alibied him by pretending he was here with you when I called from Rio Seco.”
There was a sudden movement on the bed, a small final spasm as if the shaft of sun had hit its target.
“He’s dead.” She sounded a little surprised. “My husband has just died.”
He knew she was wrong. B. J. had died a long time ago, in the years between Dreamboat and the Quarry.