Steven Havill - Out of Season

I looked down at the lectern where, if I’d had any sense, my notes would have been. I thrust my hands in my pockets. “You know,” I said finally, “Martin Holman used to joke that he never seemed to be able to get anything done. Balky legislators, no money, not enough manpower, outdated equipment.” I smiled. “All the rewards of winning a hard-fought political campaign.” Five rows back, Sam Carter looked pained. “But I just want to say that Martin Holman accomplished far more than he would ever take credit for. He brought a small, rural law-enforcement department out of the Stone Age and into the modern world of computers and instant data checks. And he did that despite criticism from several dinosaurs, myself foremost.”

A light chuckle rippled through the audience, and I frowned. “More important, he insisted on the up-to-date training that has created some of the finest law-enforcement officers in the country. The young men and women who work for Martin Holman’s department receive job offers from some of the most prestigious law-enforcement organizations in the country.” I hesitated, then added, “He even made it possible for some of us to continue doing what we love best, long after some other administrator would have told us to go home and take up needlepoint.

“He would have been pleased to know that the evidence he gathered Friday afternoon also made it possible to resolve a most perplexing, tragic case.” I saw Janice Holman shift uncomfortably. She looked up at me, and I nodded at her.

“But most important, Martin Holman was a good, honest human being who tried his best to make this world a better place for his family and his friends and his community. I don’t think we can ask any more of a man than that. I’m going to miss him.”

I nodded again and sat down. Estelle reached over and patted the back of my hand. Knowing the answer perfectly well, I leaned over and whispered, “Have you talked with Sam Carter yet about the tape recording?”

Estelle Reyes-Guzman looked heavenward.

“I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” I whispered. “It’ll be a nice change of pace.”