I kept guard while Watson remained beside the body, grieving a death simply because it was that, a death.

"He knew they would kill him," he said softly now. "I saw it in his eyes, though I didn't understand it then. Why didn't—couldn't there have been something, some other way? Surely we made a mistake somewhere?"

I spread my palm. "You can start from any accident and trace back all the things that should have been done differently, but it's not going to cheat death. Watson, you do understand it's not your fault?"

"That doesn't make it much better."