He almost had second thoughts, when he saw the small group clustered about the open grave.
Bittersweet memories flashed through his mind. He spotted a shady tree near the gravesite and walked up to it, leaning heavily against the gnarled wood. His body wasn't as fit as it used to be, he related, and the comparison to his skin and the mottled wood was quite disturbing.
Snatches of the monotonic words of the priest were brought to his ears. "...and dust to dust". Cursing the hot and unrelenting weather, he wiped his brow, and surveyed the crowd to his right. He recognised no-one but the resemblances to the dead man were there; the noble size of the men and open faces of the women; their shrewd and slanted eyes.
He waited until the crowd broke up; bent to pick up a lone dandelion by his foot. Then he walked to the grave and dropped the gaudy flower onto the coffin. He stood for a time, reminiscing.
"Who is that man?" I asked my mother.
"Once, he was a friend of his" she replied in an undertone, fanning her red face with her hat. "I only saw him a few times, but you don't forget a man like that".
The taxi was late and we were waiting, sitting on the gravestones. I was reluctant at first to disrespect the dead; my mother called me superstitious; but the service had been long and my legs begged for rest.
The old man had been standing there for quite a while. He was tall and lean, and wore a black suit that looked quite expensive, like it had been tailored. His hair was short and slick, a dark black-grey, and his face was a study. It was sharp and sallow, with piercing blue eyes lowered to the grave of Mother's cousin. He didn't look like a very nice man.
I plucked my heavy dress from my sticky back. "Mum, what's his name?" I asked, keeping my eyes on the man.
"Artemis Fowl. You probably shouldn't mention this to Juliet..." Mama replied, turning to me, her face round and solemn. "A long time ago, he worked for Fowl," she said, nodding to the grave. "But Artemis made a decision which no Butler would have gone along with. It caused a great rift in their friendship, so they say. After a year or so after the incident, he simply quit and they never saw each other again... so far as we know. And Artemis never forgave him."
"It looks like he's finally made his peace though, look!" I whispered to my mother. She turned from me and followed my gaze. "He's crying."
The unmerciful sun turned Artemis Fowl's wet cheeks into crystal.
"He looks like a vampire..." I hissed to my mother.
She snorted, saying, "It's a bit late for that now," and daintily hopped from her perch as the awaited taxi drove towards us.
The man seemingly didn't hear it and as we drove from the graveyard, out of the window I could still see him. Like the grim reaper himself, standing by my second cousin's grave, holding the hand of a... a fairy?