“I feel dirty,” she said. She turned and watched my face as I drove. “I can’t even imagine how you must feel.”
“No,” I said, “you probably can’t.”
Most people would consider Callie and me to be stone-cold killers. But we’re not killers, we’re assassins. Maybe I’m splitting hairs here, but to me the distinction is we don’t get a high from killing. To us it’s a job, like working in an ice cream store or delivering the mail. You don’t get emotionally attached to the ice cream or the mail. You just scoop or deliver it. But Quinn had been a friend to both of us, and while I’d known him many years longer than Callie, she had considered him to be trustworthy in all the ways that count.
Until the thing with Alison.
I wondered about the repercussions I might experience from killing Augustus, and subconsciously touched my chest. No pain is good. I hadn’t expected the symptoms to return, due to my counseling sessions with Nadine, but after going through what I did, I suppose there will always be a small wedge of doubt in the back of my mind when I take lives in the future.
For now it was working. Nadine helped me understand it was a question of degree. Everyone is guilty of something, but not everyone can agree on the severity of a crime. And everyone has a different yardstick for what warrants the death penalty.
For me, according to Nadine, the killing has to either benefit the victim or society. For example, I had no problem putting Robbie out of his misery after Callie dealt him a mortal wound. That benefited the victim. When I kill terrorists for Homeland, I’m benefitting society.
In preparation for killing Quinn, I’d asked Nadine if I would have been able to kill Tara Siegel. She said, “You could have killed Tara without batting an eye as long as it benefitted her or society. If Tara had turned against Homeland Security, or if she had violated your moral code by threatening to kill Kathleen or Addie, it wouldn’t have the slightest psychosomatic effect. That’s why Callie had no problem pulling the trigger. Callie perceived Tara as a serious threat to her life with Eva. But you weren’t convinced of that at the time. When Callie shot her, you were still trying to work out an agreement with Tara. When Callie took matters into her own hands, your brain perceived a senseless killing.”
I’d asked Nadine if that wasn’t just so much psycho babble.
She said, “Your body reacts to things that appear to be real, whether real or not. For example, if I were to punch Nurse Carol in the stomach, totally unprovoked, she’d double over in pain. If tomorrow I started to punch her in the stomach, but stopped my fist just short of the target, she’d probably still double over to protect herself from the perceived blow.”
“So it’s not the actual violence, but my perception of it that counts.”
“As long as you’re in charge of the killing, and you know the killing has nothing to do with someone’s idea of entertainment, you’ll be fine.”
I’d said, “Nadine, what happens to you when I leave here?”
“I’ll go home and learn how to have some fun in my life. I plan to dote on my nephews and make friends in my neighborhood.”
“You’ve earned enough to retire?”
“Yes, with the money I’ve saved and the fortune Darwin has paid me to nursemaid you, I’m set for life.”
“So you and I are done?”
“For you I’ll come out of retirement any time.”
“You’ll talk to me as a friend? Help me through the hard times?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Once you leave, if you want to talk to me, you’ll have to reach into your pocket.”
“Your words sound harsh,” I said, “but I see a smile on your face.”
“Well, don’t tell anyone,” Nadine said.
That was a week ago. Now, with Callie beside me, mourning Quinn’s death in her own, quiet way, I thought of the effect Quinn had on the other people in my life. Kathleen and Addie had taken to Augustus, had accepted him with open arms. He’d protected Addie day and night at the burn center when Joe DeMeo’s goons wanted to kill her. He’d said nice things about me to Kathleen the first time I thought I’d lost her. By her own account, it was the comments Quinn made that helped her see me in a different light.
I continued putting miles between us and the body of our good friend.
“So what happens now?” Callie said.
