Another precious gift

Dear Editor,

It is a tragic irony that by dying, and through the way in which he died, Courtney Crum-Ewing left residents another precious gift. I daresay that his untimely death brought a strange safety, a peculiar protection.

I think and articulate this, because there is room and allowance for only one execution in the manner of Crum-Ewing; there is so much restrained anger, disgust, and hurt all around. No one desires to know, but despite, or because of, the official handwringing, there is only so much tolerance, so much benefit of the doubt to be given, and so much credibility left to spare.

In a back-alley society with a million sordid stories and no enduring secrets, it is no longer of burning interest as to whether this assassination was a rogue action, or otherwise. The sifting is over; the verdict has settled where it belongs. None is fooled. Leadership palaver, both political and police, seeking to reassure only deepens cynicism, brings a long yawn: heard before, means nothing, going nowhere.

Thus, the execution of Mr Crum-Ewing can be the only one of its kind; there is no place for the responsible to hide. There is no more deniability; no distancing through bland officious pronouncements and straight faces, all well-rehearsed. It is this simple, and therein exists flimsy protection, perhaps political and social sanity.

Still, it goes without saying that desperation can make even stoic men reckless. There are no stoics here. Nevertheless, to probe the waters again, to squeeze the edges one more time, no matter how cleanly camouflaged, will narrow the already tiny circle, and lay the deed where such belongs: on those stained by the blood of the martyred Crum-Ewing. And this protects those of us who walk fragilely, but determinedly, in his long clean shadow.

This is what I believe. This is part of the legacy of Crum-Ewing: He left a suspicious, pointed confluence of events and circumstances in his passing. His dying is a shield; it provides an eyewitness; and his memory stands as judge and jury now watching, waiting, weighing.

Yours faithfully,

GHK Lall