A Case For Conners

Chapter 8

Chapter 7: Passing the Torch

Conners lay on the couch in his new apartment smoking determinedly. The landlord had already yelled at him for it, but how else was he supposed to get rid of the annoyingly clean smell the place had? Lighting yet another cigarette, he picked up a yo-yo and began playing with it. He couldn't get his mind off of Bill. Sure, the old man had been good to him and given him a real job, but why did it still hurt? Was this the joys of attachment? Well, it sure sucked.

"Bet you'd make sense of this old man. Probably explain it with God or something…"

As if in answer there was a knock at the door.

"Hello? Mr. Michael Conners?"

"Michael J. Conners," he corrected the door. "Come in."

The door opened to reveal a pale man with brown hair plastered down to his thick head. The man wore a dusty suit and tired expression. His shirt and tie were faded and old: definitely a man who didn't have money to spare. He held a briefcase in one hand and a file full of papers in the other.

"My name is Hugh Windsor. I am here on behalf of the late William Scott."

Bill's last name was Scott? How is it I never knew that?

"What do you want?"

"Mr. Scott's passing means that his last will and testament are to be read after his funeral today. I take it you will be attending?"

"Yes," said Conners. "Doesn't explain why you're here."

"Because he left everything he owned to you."

Conners was stunned. Why would Bill have left him anything? He certainly didn't know the old man all that long… It had only been two years. Did Bill really see that much in him?

"I… I don't understand."

"William told me to deliver this note to you before his wake in the event of his passing. You don't have to read it now, but I think he expected you to."

"I understand. I suppose I will see you after the funeral then."

"I'll be there too," explained Hugh. "He was my friend… for my part anyway."

Conners nodded and showed him out. He lit another cigarette before opening Bill's note. The old man's handwriting was unmistakable.

Conners,

First off put out that damn cigarette. I know you've been smoking nonstop since I died, and I don't want you to join me so soon. There's a lot of work you still need to do and I know you won't be happy unless you're doing it.

My company is yours now. Hell, you're the only one who would know what to do with it anyway.

There a few other things for you too, my cane and pistol are a couple treats to you. You'll understand once you actually see them, and what few other things I own are yours too.

Anyway, I suppose I should get down to the real heart of things. You know that you're as close to any actual family that I have, since I got divorced and never had any kids. I spent virtually every day of the past couple years with you, and I know you want to do good things. I'll tell you now, I am waiting for you to find God so you can come see the party that is heaven, you're missing out kid.

Anyway, just be careful out there and never forget why you do what you're doing. I won't get all emotional and whatnot with you, you wouldn't like it anyway. I'll put in a couple contact numbers for you towards the bottom. They're good people and if you tell them I sent you, they'll listen well enough.

If you speak at the funeral, don't drone on, you jackass.

See ya kid,

Bill

P.S. Don't get obsessed with death, yours or mine… It'll eat you alive.

Smiling, Conners folded up the note. That was Bill, all right. No need for mushy talk, just straightforward and to the point. Of course he'd go to Bill's funeral; he owed the old man that, and more.

The actual wake was slightly off-putting. Lots of people showed up; most were lower-class people that were trying to look better than they normally did. However, several officers and even a few business owners came. Conners did not dress up. Bill never felt the need to dress up for anyone, be it a friend or the president. Conners didn't think that Bill would want people dressed up for this. Bill had also demanded he be cremated in his work clothes, no three-piece suit.

It made Conners smile again. Bill had always been honest and had tried to push through a lot of the bullshit in tradition. Why bury a body you weren't using anymore? Just burn the thing. Why spend thousands of dollars on a husk? Just say a few things to celebrate the life and be done with it.

Conners found a nobility in his demand for reason and simplicity. Before long, Conners was asked to stand and speak, and he found that it was actually easy to do so. There were no tears this time, and there was no uncontrollable sobbing. There was just true controlled thought and Conners knew how he wanted to describe the old man. He smiled lightly as he walked up the green-carpeted aisle.

"Bill was many things in life. He was a detective, and the smartest one who ever lived. He was a good man, and a man of faith above all else. However, he wasn't what anyone would call proper. I can remember a time when we were invited to lunch with the Dean of Harvard and Bill told him he was an asshole with an ego even greater than the president's. He was a good man… and a good friend."

It was short and true, like he would've liked. Luckily his story got a few laughs; most people were too grief-ridden at funerals. It wasn't good for anyone. It was better to laugh at the funny things than get wrecked by the loss.

After his piece, they all sat and the funeral workers took Bill's body away to cremate him. Conners was just considering what to do with the ashes when he was called in for the reading of the will. It was all very dull red tape work. Luckily, Bill's note had forewarned him of what he should expect or he may have fallen over. He was happy to continue the work in Bill's memory, but still… knowing that the company was his now was a little overwhelming.

He also received Bill's old cane, and after signing the papers he received a bit of shock. Conners had often seen Bill moving along with this cane. What he hadn't expected was the weight of the thing. It was far heavier than he expected. He palmed the silver handle and realized there was a blade hidden inside of the wooden body.

"You old bastard," he said softly. "Always clever."

Sword canes were fantastic weapons, for those that knew how to use them. They were well concealed and could be brought out in just a flick of the wrist. He also received Bill's .44 magnum, Sherry. He'd never fired it before, but knew this gun packed one hell of a punch.

"Leave it to you to name a gun, old man."

After they handed Conners the ashes, he was on his way. There had been multiple things that Bill had done to surprise him in life. It turned out that even death wasn't enough to stop the old man's surprises.

He had meant to go home immediately. Maybe drink a beer or just pass out… but he had to stop by the office first… or rather the lot where it had been. He walked up and saw that very little work had been done to it… if any.

Bill had just been renting the lot and the building… So, the owners would have to deal with the repairs. After all, the only thing Bill had actually owned the business name and it wasn't like there were any other employees. There was no reason not to just work out of his new apartment. Bill couldn't do that because he had another life: A life where he had a few friends and took care of their children.

Conners had no social life. In fact, he had no life outside of his obsessive casework. He would be leaving this place behind. He got back in the cab and gave the cabbie the instructions to his apartment, cradling Bill's ashes.

"Hope you're enjoying heaven's party, Bill. You deserve it."

Once he got home, Conners got online and ordered a holder for the ashes. It wasn't much, just a steady wooden container. However, they did offer the chance for an inscription, and Conners paused considering what to put. Finally, after hours of metal debate he smiled softly and typed in:

The most stubborn jackass of his generation.

R.I.P. William Scott