18-08-2026, 01:19 PM
TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 20, 2005 3 P.M.
I have two accounts on my office computer. One is my business account, for anything official. The other is a personal account. I’m on the business account a hundred times a day. I’m on the personal account maybe once or twice a week. My mom still isn’t real ‘hep’ with computers, as she would put it. My kids call me on the phone, and there are very few other reasons for anyone to email me.
Because I almost never go on it, I’ve set up a pinging alarm for any email messages that do come through. If I’m out of the office, it will be pinging when I turn the computer on, and if I’m on, it will give me the same heads up.
The phone had rung five minutes earlier and Cheryl had told me I had Phil Howser, the President of the Fraternal Order of security officer (FOP) union on the line. I had talked with him a number of times over the years and he’d always seemed reasonable and not too hardnosed for a cop and a union rep at the same time.
“What can I do for you, Phil?”
“You really need to ask, Mr. Maitland?” “You too? It used to be Bill.”
He laughed.
“I’m a sweetheart, Phil, but I’m not going to back off taking the shooting to the grand jury.”
“When do you plan on doing it?”
“I’d hoped to get it to them this week, but some other things are going on and the foreman and vice-foreman of the jury both had personal crises pop up at the same time. Technically we don’t have to give them time, but they wouldn’t be able to concentrate with that stuff on their minds. They’ve had those positions since the grand jury was convened and they know what they’re doing, besides being good leaders. I decided to wait.
“So it will probably be next week, maybe later in the week.”
“That gives us a little time. Look, Bill, my guys want me to do SOMETHING. They pay their dues and sometimes they get the feeling they don’t get all that much for their money. It would do me good to show them that at least you were willing to meet with us, let us put our two cents in, and maybe, we might change your mind.”
“Never going to happen.”
“You know that and I know that, but they don’t know that.
“I don’t have a problem meeting with you, Phil. When and where?”
“How about Friday, at the FOP Hall on Atlantic Boulevard. We don’t ever do anything official on Fridays because no one will show up, so it’s a good time for the FOP officers and a few key people to meet. Come by and we’ll have some coffee and maybe wings and you can talk candidly with us about what’s going on. Sound good?”
“Yeah. Let me ask you something before you go. I’m hearing rumbles that Smith is coming apart at the seams. He braced me in the sandwich shop across from the courthouse the other day and I seriously wondered if he was going to try something in front of a dozen witnesses, including four or five armed cops.
“My ex-wife was just in here telling me I need to start carrying a gun because she’s hearing the same rumbles over in the PD office. Do I need to start carrying a gun, and if he’s having a breakdown, how come the Sheriff is letting him walk around carrying a Glock?”
There was a silence and then Phil said, “He is getting a little raggedy, I’ll admit and he’s drinking too much. He’s got a lot of friends and they’re watching him, babysitting him really. Knight won’t pull him because he and everybody else thinks if he’s removed from duty, it will just make it certain that the grand jury will decide he’s crazy and indict him.”
Another silence and then: “He’s a good man, Bill. Or, he was. The shooting rattled him...a lot. He’s killed men before, but I think the way it went down...it even got to him. I didn’t say that, if anybody asks, but even his friends know he went too far. Then, afterwards, his fiancée walked away. He, uh...I think he thought she was the one. I don’t think he’s been right since she left him. Maybe you can understand that.”
The computer pinged. I ignored it. I thought about what Howser had said.
Yeah, I could understand a man going to pieces after losing a woman.
“Then, the strain of having this grand jury thing over his head so long, and that civil lawsuit that could wipe him out financially, it’s all played on his mind. That’s why his friends are trying to help him hold it together until this passes, one way or the other.”
“Should I start carrying a gun?” “It probably wouldn’t hurt.”
I’d almost forgotten the email but after I hung up it popped back into my mind. I called up my personal account and typed in my password.
It was an email from adjardin @ aol.com. I just looked at it for a long time.
Eventually I hit the button and opened it. “Dear Bill:
I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. Paris in the Fall is even more beautiful than I remembered it. Jacksonville and St Augustine and your beaches are very different, but I know you love them as I do Paris. I hope you are as happy today as Philippe and I are. We have found that being apart has made us cherish our marriage more than we once did.
I have told Philippe how you showed me your home town and the great kindness you displayed to me while I was there. I will never forget the two weeks we spent in your city. By the by, Philippe also thinks the Fleur de Lis pendant you gave me is exquisite and I want you to know that I wear it proudly. He said it is the kind of gesture he expected from you, because that is the kind of man you are.
As I know you will understand, I cannot express the joy that seeing André again has given me. He is my life, and as I have done every year since he was born, I am having to struggle with the thought of ever going back to the Bonne Chance. Perhaps this year, my decision will be different.
Finally, I hope that you have found peace in your personal life. I do not know what decisions you will ultimately make about your marriage but, regardless of what happens with Debbie, I want you to know that after knowing you for such a short time, I have no doubt you will find a good woman to share your life with.
I hope you will pardon me for making such a personal judgment, but you are not the kind of man who can lead a life of aimless affairs. You need a woman in the center of your life, and you deserve one. Once you get past the pain you are currently in, I know you will find one.
Regardless, Bill Maitland, I want you to know that I will think of you often. When I wear your Fleur de Lis, I will remember you on the Bonne Chance, and in Jacksonville and St. Augustine. Philippe, too, sends his well wishes and wants
I have two accounts on my office computer. One is my business account, for anything official. The other is a personal account. I’m on the business account a hundred times a day. I’m on the personal account maybe once or twice a week. My mom still isn’t real ‘hep’ with computers, as she would put it. My kids call me on the phone, and there are very few other reasons for anyone to email me.
Because I almost never go on it, I’ve set up a pinging alarm for any email messages that do come through. If I’m out of the office, it will be pinging when I turn the computer on, and if I’m on, it will give me the same heads up.
The phone had rung five minutes earlier and Cheryl had told me I had Phil Howser, the President of the Fraternal Order of security officer (FOP) union on the line. I had talked with him a number of times over the years and he’d always seemed reasonable and not too hardnosed for a cop and a union rep at the same time.
“What can I do for you, Phil?”
“You really need to ask, Mr. Maitland?” “You too? It used to be Bill.”
He laughed.
“You never can tell. Someone might be listening in. You know they’ve got your picture up on some of the targets at the shooting range?”
“Seriously?”
“No, but it wouldn’t surprise me. You have some guys over here seriously pissed off at you.”
I’m not surprised. I’m told that Smith is popular over there. Somebody prosecuting him is not going to get any love letters.”
He laughed again.
“I don’t know. I think a lot of guys over here would love to screw you.”
“A cop that can use puns. Be careful or they’ll drum you out. You probably read without moving your lips.”
“The only reason I’m not offended about that, Bill, is that I’ve been drinking with you at some of the joint State Attorney/Sheriff’s office functions and I know you’re just yanking my chain. That’s why I haven’t come down on you with my guys, because I can’t see you being the bastard that people are saying you are.”“I’m a sweetheart, Phil, but I’m not going to back off taking the shooting to the grand jury.”
“When do you plan on doing it?”
“I’d hoped to get it to them this week, but some other things are going on and the foreman and vice-foreman of the jury both had personal crises pop up at the same time. Technically we don’t have to give them time, but they wouldn’t be able to concentrate with that stuff on their minds. They’ve had those positions since the grand jury was convened and they know what they’re doing, besides being good leaders. I decided to wait.
“So it will probably be next week, maybe later in the week.”
“That gives us a little time. Look, Bill, my guys want me to do SOMETHING. They pay their dues and sometimes they get the feeling they don’t get all that much for their money. It would do me good to show them that at least you were willing to meet with us, let us put our two cents in, and maybe, we might change your mind.”
“Never going to happen.”
“You know that and I know that, but they don’t know that.
“I don’t have a problem meeting with you, Phil. When and where?”
“How about Friday, at the FOP Hall on Atlantic Boulevard. We don’t ever do anything official on Fridays because no one will show up, so it’s a good time for the FOP officers and a few key people to meet. Come by and we’ll have some coffee and maybe wings and you can talk candidly with us about what’s going on. Sound good?”
“Yeah. Let me ask you something before you go. I’m hearing rumbles that Smith is coming apart at the seams. He braced me in the sandwich shop across from the courthouse the other day and I seriously wondered if he was going to try something in front of a dozen witnesses, including four or five armed cops.
“My ex-wife was just in here telling me I need to start carrying a gun because she’s hearing the same rumbles over in the PD office. Do I need to start carrying a gun, and if he’s having a breakdown, how come the Sheriff is letting him walk around carrying a Glock?”
There was a silence and then Phil said, “He is getting a little raggedy, I’ll admit and he’s drinking too much. He’s got a lot of friends and they’re watching him, babysitting him really. Knight won’t pull him because he and everybody else thinks if he’s removed from duty, it will just make it certain that the grand jury will decide he’s crazy and indict him.”
Another silence and then: “He’s a good man, Bill. Or, he was. The shooting rattled him...a lot. He’s killed men before, but I think the way it went down...it even got to him. I didn’t say that, if anybody asks, but even his friends know he went too far. Then, afterwards, his fiancée walked away. He, uh...I think he thought she was the one. I don’t think he’s been right since she left him. Maybe you can understand that.”
The computer pinged. I ignored it. I thought about what Howser had said.
Yeah, I could understand a man going to pieces after losing a woman.
“Then, the strain of having this grand jury thing over his head so long, and that civil lawsuit that could wipe him out financially, it’s all played on his mind. That’s why his friends are trying to help him hold it together until this passes, one way or the other.”
“Should I start carrying a gun?” “It probably wouldn’t hurt.”
I’d almost forgotten the email but after I hung up it popped back into my mind. I called up my personal account and typed in my password.
It was an email from adjardin @ aol.com. I just looked at it for a long time.
Eventually I hit the button and opened it. “Dear Bill:
I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. Paris in the Fall is even more beautiful than I remembered it. Jacksonville and St Augustine and your beaches are very different, but I know you love them as I do Paris. I hope you are as happy today as Philippe and I are. We have found that being apart has made us cherish our marriage more than we once did.
I have told Philippe how you showed me your home town and the great kindness you displayed to me while I was there. I will never forget the two weeks we spent in your city. By the by, Philippe also thinks the Fleur de Lis pendant you gave me is exquisite and I want you to know that I wear it proudly. He said it is the kind of gesture he expected from you, because that is the kind of man you are.
As I know you will understand, I cannot express the joy that seeing André again has given me. He is my life, and as I have done every year since he was born, I am having to struggle with the thought of ever going back to the Bonne Chance. Perhaps this year, my decision will be different.
Finally, I hope that you have found peace in your personal life. I do not know what decisions you will ultimately make about your marriage but, regardless of what happens with Debbie, I want you to know that after knowing you for such a short time, I have no doubt you will find a good woman to share your life with.
I hope you will pardon me for making such a personal judgment, but you are not the kind of man who can lead a life of aimless affairs. You need a woman in the center of your life, and you deserve one. Once you get past the pain you are currently in, I know you will find one.
Regardless, Bill Maitland, I want you to know that I will think of you often. When I wear your Fleur de Lis, I will remember you on the Bonne Chance, and in Jacksonville and St. Augustine. Philippe, too, sends his well wishes and wants
me to remind you that friendship, like love, transcends distance and time, and that he is your friend.
With deepest regard, your friends, Aline and Philippe.”
I didn’t’ realize until the letters blurred that I was crying.
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