He thought about it, then nodded. "It will take some time to get used to this."
"What?"
"That I am no longer just a bringer of death, and that you are also interested in justice."
"The killer could still get off on some technicality," I said. "The law isn't really about justice here, it's about the letter of the law and who has the best lawyer."
"If the killer gets off on a technicality, then what would my orders be?"
"That's months or years down the road, Doyle. Justice moves slowly out here."
"The question stands, Meredith." He was studying my face again.
I met his eyes behind their dark glasses, and said the truth. "He, or they, either spend the rest of their lives in prison, or they die."
"By my hand?" he asked.
I shrugged, and looked away. "By someone's hand." I moved past him to touch the door. He grabbed my arm, and made me look back at him.
"Would you do it yourself?"
"My father taught me to never ask of anyone what I'm not willing to do myself."
"Your aunt, the Queen of Air and Darkness, is quite willing to get her own lily-white hands bloody."
"She's a sadist. I'd just kill them."
He raised my hands in his and kissed them both gently. "I would rather your hands hold more tender things than death. Let that be my task."