Father Bristol was not pleased to be called to the Memorial. No one was ever pleased. It didn’t look like much, just a rose garden around a Romanesque fountain. There was a very nice rose bush in a beautiful red wood pot. The rose had lovely yellow flowers. The Gardeners and several other men were digging a hole much deeper than a normal rose would require.The father sat on the only bench, right in front of the fountain, clasped his hands together, pressed them to his forehead, and prayed. He would always come back to Alfred’s estate, where some things were safe and protected from the world, but nothing good ever came from a visit to this garden.

“Let’s go to the garden, shall we?” Alfred asked as he stood. In that same movement, he had Gael by the arm and hauled him up to his feet too.

“Allie, I’m sorry,” Gael begged. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“Now, now, we’re past all that, Gael my love. Choices were made and now we have to live with them, don’t we?” Alfred placed his hands on Gael’s shoulders and spun him around, so he could tie his wrists behind his back. “Relax your arms, Gael. I don’t want you trying to avoid your fate.”

Gael grimaced. “He’s a doctor. He’ll be missed.”

“It’s New York. People go missing all the time, especially if they’re as funny as Dr. Walker obviously is.”