Truth
"Tom", I inquired, "what did you say to Wilson that afternoon?"
He stared at me without a word, but when I started to turn away he grabbed my arm.
"I told him the truth", he said, and continued defiantly. "What if I did tell him? That fellow had it coming to him. He threw dust into your eyes just like he did in Daisy's, but he was a tough one. He ran over Myrtle like you'd run over a dog and never even stopped his car."
I looked at him, hesitating for a moment whether I should stay silent. Then I spoke up, not able to let the injustice against Gatsby's memory be.
"There were two people in that car, Tom.", I said. "How can you be so certain that what you know is the truth?"
I didn't wait for his reaction, just turned and walked away. Gatsby had been worth more than this, hadn't deserved to have his reputation forever besmirched by a murder committed by someone else.
And Daisy.. Well, she had got away scot-free enough times. It was time she learned that other people's lives weren't to be taken lightly, that there were consequenses to her actions.