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Historically； the function of deranged radicals is to put in motion what only others can finish； to illuminate by excess； to stir the conscience and fade away in exile。 To this end； the Nights of December leaves a worthy legacy。
Wele to the Revolution。
For the first time in nearly half a century； the front page of the Miami Sun on New Year's Day did not lead with a story or photograph of the Orange Bowl Parade。 Instead； the paper was dominated by unmon pieces of journalism。
The farewell column of Skip Wiley appeared in a vertical slot along the left…hand gutter； beneath Wiley's signature photo。 Stripped across the top of the newspaper； under the masthead； was a surprisingly self…critical article about why the Sun had failed to connect Wiley to Las Noches de Diciembre even after his involvement became known to a certain high…ranking editor。 This piece was written； and written well； by Cab Mulcahy himself。 Therein shocked Miami readers learned that Wiley's cryptic 〃Where I've got to go； and what I've got to do〃 referred to the planned； but unconsummated； kidnapping of the Orange Bowl queen during the previous night's parade。
The other key element of the front page was a dramatic but inplete account of the killing of fugitive terrorist Jesus Bernal on a limestone spit in North Key Largo。 This story carried no byline because it was produced by several reporters； one of whom had confirmed the fact that private investigator Brian Keyes had fired the fatal shots from a nine…millimeter Browning handgun； which he was duly licensed to carry。 Keyes's presence at the remote jetty was unexplained； although the newspaper noted that he recently had been hired as part of a covert Orange Bowl security force。 The only other witness to the Bernal shooting； Metro…Dade Police Sergeant Alberto Garcia； was recovering from surgery and unavailable for ment。
When Brian Keyes woke up in the dinginess of his office； Jenna sat at the desk； reading the morning paper。
〃When are you gonna learn to lock the door？〃 she asked。 She handed him the front page。 〃Take a look。 The puddy tat's out of the bag。〃
Keyes sat up and spread the newspaper across his knees。 He tried to read； but his eyes refused to focus。
〃I figured you'd be decked out in black；〃 he said groggily。
〃I don't believe he's dead；〃 Jenna said。 〃I will not believe it； not till I see the body。〃 Case closed。 She forced a smile。 〃Hey； Bri； seems you're a big hero for killing that Cuban kidnapper。〃
〃Yeah； I look like a big hero； don't I？〃
He glanced at Wiley's column。 〃December 28…the day before the helicopter crash。 When's the last time you heard from him？〃
〃Same day。 I got a telegram from Haiti。〃
〃What did he say？〃 Keyes asked。
〃He said to spray the lawn for chinch bugs。〃
〃That all？〃
She pursed her lips。 〃He also said if anything happens； he wants to be buried in that pine coffin he got from the swap meet。 Buried with all his old newspaper clippings； of course。〃
〃Very touching。〃
〃I think he stole the idea from the Indian；〃 Jenna said。 〃Seminole warriors are always buried with their weapons。〃
Keyes stumbled downstairs to a vending machine and bought three cups of coffee。 Jenna took one look and said she didn't want any； so Keyes drank them all。
It put him in a perfect mood for Skip Wiley's farewell column； which Keyes found mawkish and disorganized and only slightly revelatory。 He was more interested in Cab Mulcahy's panion story。 In it； the managing editor explained that Wiley's key role in the Nights of December had not been exposed because of a threat that many more tourists and innocent persons would be murdered。 For several days the information about Wiley was withheld while an investigator hired by the Sun searched for him； in retrospect； Mulcahy had written； this decision was ill…advised and probably unethical。
〃Poor Cab；〃 Keyes said； not to Jenna but himself。 He felt hurt and embarrassed for his friend。
Jenna came around from behind the desk and sat on the tattered sofa next to Keyes。 〃Skip really got carried away；〃 she said； stopping just short of remorse。
〃He carried all of us away；〃 Keyes said； 〃everyone who cared about him。 You； me； Mulcahy； the whole damn newspaper。 He carried all of us right into the toilet。〃
〃Brian； don't be this way。〃 Jenna wasn't wearing any makeup； she looked like she hadn't slept in two days。 〃It was a good cause；〃 she said defensively。 〃Just poor administration。〃
〃What makes you think he's not dead？〃
〃Intuition。〃
〃Oh really。〃 Keyes eyed her with annoyance； as he would a stray cat。
He said； 〃I can't imagine Skip passing up that parade。 National television； half the country tuned in。 It was too good to resist…if he's not dead； he's in a a somewhere。〃
〃He's not dead；〃 Jenna said。
〃We'll see。〃
Jenna had never heard him so snide。
〃What's with you？〃 she asked。
〃Aw； nothing。 Blew a guy's head off last night and I'm still a little bushed。 Wanna go for a Danish？〃
Jenna looked shaky。 〃Oh Brian；〃 she said。
A plaintively rendered oh Brian usually would do the trick； a guaranteed melt…down。 This time Keyes felt nothing but a penetrating dullness； not lust or jealousy； rage or bitterness。
〃He was supposed to meet me at Wolfie's this morning； but he never came；〃 she admitted。 〃I'm kind of worried。〃 Her eyes were red。 Keyes knew she was about to turn on the waterworks。
〃He can't be dead；〃 she said； choking out the words。
Keyes said； 〃I'm sorry； Jenna； but you did the worst possible thing： you encouraged the bastard。〃
〃I suppose；〃 she said； starting to sob。 〃But some of it sounded so harmless。〃
〃Skip was about as harmless as a 190…pound scorpion。〃
〃For instance； dropping those snakes on the ocean liner；〃 she said。 〃Somehow it didn't seem so terrible when he was arranging it。 The way he told it； it was supposed to be kind of funny。〃
〃With goddamn rattlesnakes； Jenna？〃
〃He didn't tell me that part。 Honest。〃 She reached out and put her arms around him。 〃Hold me；〃 she whispered。 Normally another foolproof heartbreaker。 Keyes took her hand and patted it avuncularly。 He didn't know where it had gone…all his feeling for her…just that it wasn't there now。
〃It wasn't all Skip's fault；〃 Jenna cried。 〃This was building up for years； poisoning him from the inside。 He felt a duty； Brian； a duty to be the sentinel of outrage。 Who else would speak for the land？ For the wild creatures？〃
〃Save your Sierra Club lecture for the first…graders； okay？〃
〃Skip is not a bad man； he has a vision of right and wrong。 He's a principled person who took things too far； and maybe he paid for his mistakes。 But he deserves credit for his courage； and for all his misery he deserves passion； too。〃
〃What he deserved；〃 Keyes said； 〃was twenty…five…to…life at Raiford。〃 Ten innocent people were dead and here was Jenna doing Portia from the Merchant of Venice。 He let go of her hand and stood up； not wishing to test his fortitude by sitting too close for too long。 He said； 〃You'd better go。〃
〃I took the bus；〃 Jenna sniffled。 〃Can you give me a lift？〃
〃No； I can't。〃
〃But I really don't want to be alone； Brian。 I just want to lie in a hot bath and think sunny thoughts； a hot ba