The Last Innocent Man

8

David stacked the last of his framed diplomas in the cardboard carton at his feet and sealed the top with masking tape. He stood up and looked around the office. The walls were bare. The desk drawers had been cleaned out. It had ceased to be David Nash’s office.

“Got everything packed away?” Gregory Banks asked from the doorway. David hadn’t heard him come in. He had been thinking about the office.

“Yeah. It’s all taken care of. There wasn’t much, anyway. These diplomas,” he said, indicating the box, “some personal stuff from the desk.”

David shrugged.

“Yeah, well,” Gregory said. They stood in the room without speaking for a moment.

“Damn, I’m gonna miss you, Dave,” Gregory said finally, his voice catching. David was embarrassed by Gregory’s unusual emotional display.

“Hey,” he said, “I’m just going on a vacation. I’ll be back. Maybe not as a lawyer, but I’m not leaving town forever.”

Larry Stafford was out of prison, and Jenny had reinstituted the divorce proceedings. David and Jenny were going to disappear for a while. David wanted to catch up on all the things he had missed while building his career. There was Abu Simbel to see and the Great Wall of China. They would travel together for a year. Maybe longer. When they returned, Jenny’s divorce would be final. Then they would decide about their future together. Maybe it would work out. Maybe it wouldn’t. They would see.

“What will you do if you don’t practice law?” Gregory asked.

“That’s something I don’t want to think about now. Don’t be so maudlin. Hell, you’re making me feel worse than I feel already.”

Gregory blushed. “You’re right. Shit, I never used to get so sloppy. It must be old age.”

David smiled, and so did Greg.

“That’s the boy,” David said.

He looked away from Gregory and looked at the room once more. The desk was big and old. He’d had it since he’d started practicing. He tried to remember how much he’d paid for it secondhand, but the price escaped him.

David reached out absentmindedly and ran his hand over the corner of the desk. He thought about the framed clippings he had just packed away. Some of the most exciting moments in his life had started in this room.

David had loved the law and he had been a good lawyer. Maybe one of the best. But that part of his life was over forever, once he’d pulled the trigger and ended Thomas Gault’s life. No matter what the justification for the act, it had made it impossible for David to continue to practice his profession. The killing of Thomas Gault had made him an outlaw, even if no one other than Jenny knew.

“You’ll come to dinner tomorrow night?” Greg asked.

“Of course.”

The plans had already been made. He was leaving the country in two days. Jenny would meet him in London in two weeks. No one knew about their affair and they felt it best to keep it that way. The Gault case was closed and they saw no reason to stir up any suspicions.

No one had questioned the story he and Jenny had agreed on. David had told the police about Gault’s confessions and his meeting with Monica and Ortiz. He had recounted the incident at the house truthfully, except for one detail. David had said that Ortiz had fired, wounding Gault, who had fired simultaneously, killing Ortiz. The shot that killed Gault had been squeezed off by Ortiz just before the policeman died.

David apologized for handling Ortiz’s weapon and for moving the bodies. He should have known better, but he was pretty shaken up. No one had been critical. After all, he and Jenny had gone through an ordeal. And no one really cared that an insane cop killer had been shot to death.

“I’ve got to get going, Greg,” David said, hefting the carton and heading for the door.

“Sure,” Gregory said.

They both paused in the doorway for one last look at the bare room.

“You’ll be back,” Gregory said firmly.

“Maybe,” David said.

But he really didn’t think so.