James_Grippando_ _Jack_Swyteck_03_ _Last_to

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Thirty-two
Where s your friend? asked Rene.
She and Jack were at themaquis , the open-air caf� next to their hotel. It
was the epitome of informal dining, just a smattering of rickety wood tables
and benches in the sand. They were seated across from each other in the circle
of shade beneath a thatchedpaillote . The air smelled of cooked fish and some
kind of steaming carbohydrate, appetizing enough, though the buzzing flies and
oppressive heat would take some getting used to. Jack was sweating just
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sitting there, though Theo had been right about Rene: A shower and a good
night s sleep had vaulted her right into another league.
Theo s still sleeping, he said.
Jet lag?
More like jetfuel . He and a couple of Belgians on their way to Man were up
late drinking something calledpitasi .
She flashed a knowing smile, as if she d been there. African gin. Deadly
stuff.
A waiter brought them sodas and recited the menu in French. Jack let Rene
order for both of them, trusting that he wouldn t end up with boiled eye of
impala.
You and Theo make a pretty interesting friendship.
I hear that a lot.
Have you known each other long?
Pretty long. He was convicted of murder when he was a teenager. I picked up
the case on appeal, after he was on death row. You can get pretty close to
someone after counting down the hours to their death five or six different
times. Especially when they re innocent.
So you got him off?
Guilty people get off. Theo got screwed, and we finally made it right.
She took a long drink of cola with no ice, enjoying it before it got too warm
in the midday heat. Is that your specialty? Death penalty work?
Not anymore. My first four years out of law school I worked at a place
called the Freedom Institute. All death penalty work.
Sounds pretty grim.
Not as grim as some other things. I worked for a Wall Street firm the summer
before I graduated from law school. On the last day, I walk into the elevator
and punch forty-two, just like every day before. Then a young lawyer walks in
behind me, punches forty-one, a little older guy walks in, punches
forty-three, and finally a senior partner comes and well, I don t know what
she punched. I literally ran the hell out of there. I suddenly couldn t
stomach the idea that this was going to be my life, day after day, walking
into the same elevator, punching the same button, going to that same little
box in the sky.
I can relate.
Really?
Look around. This isn t exactly a normal career step for someone who just
busted her hump through a pediatric residency.
She had a great smile, Jack noticed, and he smiled back. He hadn t thought
about it before, but they did have something seriously in common, both having
chosen an unconventional start for their careers. He said, If your experience
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is anything like mine was, I m sure you have a lot of friends back home making
plenty of money.
Money was never what it was all about for me.
Me neither, but&
But what?
His expression turned more serious. What about Sally?
She let out a little sigh, as if she d known that the conversation would land
here eventually. Sally was a very complex person.
Were you two close?
Yes, most of the time.
Most of the time?
She shrugged and said, We were sisters. We had our differences, we got over
them.
I understand she spent some time here with you.
Yeah. I was a bit surprised she came, but I suppose in the last few years
nothing should have surprised me.
What do you mean?
Charity work in Africa is not exactly for Sally. Don t get me wrong. It s
not formost people. But after her daughter was murdered, Sally just wanted to
find a way to heal. She drifted from one extreme to the other, from partying
to religion, from charity work to marrying a millionaire. In the end, I guess,
nothing worked.
The waiter brought their food, a lumpy, grainy dish that looked like rice
mixed with a little meat. Jack tried it with caution, but it was surprisingly
tasty. Good choice, he said. I like it.
Really? For most people spider monkey is an acquired taste.
Huh?
Just kidding.
They shared a smile, then Jack turned serious again. I m really sorry about
what happened to your sister, so let me apologize in advance for some of the
questions I have to ask.
I understand.
This might sound like a weird question, but do you have any reason to
believe that Sally would have killed herself?
Suicide? She was shot in her car while waiting at an intersection.
I know. But what I m really asking is, do you think it s possible that she
hired someone to kill her?
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She looked away, but Jack could still see the troubled expression on her
face. I don t know. I have worried about her. She had a lot of issues, many
of which I m sure you already know about. Her money problems, the stalker, the
murder of her daughter, her failed marriage.
What about the book that the reporter from theMiami Tribune was writing? Do
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