The Executioner's Song (92 page)

Gibbs got Big Jake to buy him a card, and sent it to Gary. It read, “I hope you have many more happy birthdays.” He knew that would hit Gary’s funny bone.

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Brenda and Johnny had a birthday visit on the phone. “Hey, cousin,” she said, “did you know that you are the most notorious convict in the United States? That’s what they said about you last night.” He answered in a strained little voice, “I would much rather be acclaimed on my art ability and my intelligence.” It was his hun° gry stomach speaking. He sounded like an empty eggshell. “I don’t appreciate this kind of publicity,” he complained.

Brenda said to herself, “Maybe Gary don’t like the publicity, but he’s sure enjoying it.”

Gary had given Vem a list of names and the amount of money he wanted each person to receive. Brenda was to get $5,ooo, and Toni $3,ooo. Gary also gave $5,ooo to Sterling and Ruth Ann. Wanted to give $3,ooo to the baby-sitter Laurel and her family, but Veto gave an argument about that.

Then Gary talked about a couple of girls in Hawaii who had been writing him love letters. He wanted to send them a few hundred dollars. Veto agreed, but never withdrew the money. Figured about the time Gary had given it all away, he’d be happy to discover a few hundred left. Of course the way Gary handed it out, was enough to make you sick.

There was a convict out in the midwest named Ed Barney. Gary got a letter from him one day and told Veto he’d known the guy at Oregon State. They’d put a lot of time in Segregation together. “Ed Barney is a great guy,” said Gary. “One of my very best and dearest friends. I want you to give him a thousand dollars.” Veto thought Gary was talking like his mother. When Vem first knew her, Bessie could never describe a good-looking man or woman without getting carried away by the power of the description. At the end she would always say, “That was the best-looking man I ever saw.” Or, best-looking woman. Must have described a hundred people that way. Gary was the same about friends. Today, Sterling was the best friend he ever had=Yesterday, LeRoy Earp, or Vince Capitano, or Steve Kessler, or John Mills or many another prison buddy Veto couldn’t even keep in mind. Tomorrow you knew another fellow would be nominated. Gibbs, probably. So, Veto decided to hold on to the award to Ed Barney. With the way they kept delaying his execution, Gary

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would be broke before he kne it. A few thousand dollars could buy him a lot of comfort in prison.

Veto did, however, have to give $2,000 to Gibbs. Gary was insistent. Then, there was another fellow named Fungoo. Gary said he’d hurt the man’s feelings something awful with a tattoo he had drawn once. He wanted to give him a sum. Veto had a hell of an argument. Finally talked him out of that.

Then there was the mysterY recipient. A particular fellow was to receive a total of $5,ooo in two equal installments. Veto was to meet him on the street corner and hand over $2,5oo. Gary said he wanted the job done without argument. Veto had a pretty good idea what was up. He finally had a meeting with the fellow, and gave over the money in a restaurant, hated the idea. A wanton waste. Was glad when Gary never paid the second installment.

Now, on his birthday, Gary wanted to give $500 to Margie Quinn. “Margie Quinn?” asked Veto. “You know,” said Gary, “that nice little girl Ida introduced me to.” “Well, why do you want to give her $5oo?” asked Vern. “Well,” said Gary, mimicking the way Vern said “well,” which was always very soft as ff he wanted to draw you close, “well, I happened to break the windshield on her car.”

Veto wasn’t too surprised. “I thought you did, you dirty bugger,” he said. He remembered how Margie Quinn’s mother had asked him months ago ff Gary had done it, and Veto replied, “I don’t know. He may have.” That was $5oo We didn’t mind paying.

From time to time, Gary would say, “See that my mother is taken care of,” yet he didn’t talk of real money. It seemed to Vern that Gary wanted to believe his mother did love him a great deal and worked with the evidence pro and con. Yet he must have kept turning on that evidence, for he sure was acting stingy toward her. Vern actually had to say, “You can’t give $3,ooo to your baby-sitter when your mother is living without money.” “All right,” Gary answered, “cut it down. Take a thousand off. Give that to my ma.” Then he would hesitate. “But don’t marl it,” he woold say, “you and Aunt Ida fly down and give it to her in person.” Vern couldn’t understand. If Gary was afraid somebody might rip it off, he could have a bank in Portland deliver the thousand by special tnessenger. Good Lord, it would prac-

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tically cost half that much for Ida and him to fly there and back. Brenda got into the act. “Just a thousand, Gary?” she asked. “Yep,” said Gary. Brenda gave her father a look to say, “No sense going further.”

Vern thought Gary might be provoked at his mother because of the Supreme Court Stay, but then he recollected that even before Gary heard of Bessie’s legal actions, he had never included her in the money to be given out.

On Sunday, Bob Moody and Ron Stanger were interviewed by TV people from Holland, England, and a couple of other countries. Then they went to the country club for lunch. Then out to the prison.

GILMORE Hey, uh, maybe the Tribune would print an open letter to my mother.

STANGER I don’t see any doubt about that.

GILMORE I’ll make it brief, if you want to take it down.

STANGER Go ahead.

GILMORE Dear Mom. I love you deeply and I always have and I always will. (pause) But please disassociate yourself from the Uncle Tom NAACP. Please accept the fact that I wish to be dead. That I accept it. That I accept it.

MOODY Do you want to put “That I accept it” more than once? GILMORE Please accept the fact that I want, that I accept death. What’s a better way of saying that? Please accept this

MOODY Maybe, please accept the fact that I accept that which has been imposed upon me by law, is that what you’re trying to say? GILMORE Yeah. That would be all right. I don’t want it to look like a death wish by saying I wish for death.

MOODY I just accept what the law is.

STANGER CalTy out the law.

GILMORE Uh, I would like to talk to you. I’d like to see you. But I

can’t, so I’m sending you this letter through the newspaper. (long pause) We all die, it ain’t no big deal.

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MOODY Is this in the letter?

GILMORE Yeah. (long pause) Sometimes it’s right and proper. (pause) Please, disassociate yourself from that Uncle Tom NAACP. I’m a white man. The NAACP disgusts me that they even dare associate theirself with me or that they dare even, or that they dare anything. Well, read that to me and I’ll think of what I want to say… Uh, I could have made a few disparaging remarks about niggers but I do have a few black friends you know, and, uh, very few. But, the NAACP ain’t among them. I mean they’re so goddamned phony. Do you know anything about the NAACP?

STANGER Oh yes.

GILMORE Every Spock I know hates them.

MOODY Is that right?

GILMORE Yeah, just like they hate Martin Luther King because he was such a pacifist, you know. The NAACP, they’re nonmilitant, they’re passive. They’re very wealthy people that run it.

MOODY What do you think the average black man would like? GILMORE Just some watermelon and some wine.

The prison had moved Gary back to the hospital and today they could not see him, only hear his voice over the telephone. It sounded acidulous. “Black people,” he said, “learn by rote more than anything else. You show them how to do something, and they can do it.” He paused as if imparting valuable information. “On the whole continent of Africa, they never found the wheel or anything more deadly than a spear. That’s what I think of black people. It ain’t a hatred, just fact. I don’t care if one guy did something with some peanuts a long time ago.”

Ron could feel the growling in Gary’s empty gut and the hatred coming through the telephone wires. A dark side of Gilmore was running like a current into his ear. Man, he had an evil nature when he felt like it. Stanger was very happy at this moment that he had never belonged to the NAACP or the ACLU.

5

On her visits, Kathryne would tell Nicole that Gary had intended for her to die, not him. Nicole would think that it could be true. Gary

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didn’t ever want her with another man. Still, it couldn’t change her feelings. It wasn’t like he had been trying to do it cynically. He would certainly have followed in the near future. So Kathryne’s accusations never bothered Nicole. She just wanted to see Gary.

It was making her crazy not to be able to have a phone call or a letter. Sometimes she’d think of getting ahold of a gun. She would tell them if they didn’t let her talk to Gary, she would blow her head off.

Ken Sundberg, who had been retained by Kathryne at Phil Christensen’s advice, brought Nicole a letter. It was the first word from Gary since she had taken the pills. He just told her not to let the place get to her. Didn’t talk about death or dying. Only wrote about how much he loved her. Later, Nicole found out that Sundberg, who was a nice fellow but an uptight Mormon, had agreed to bring in the envelope provided Gary made no reference to suicide at all.

After Nicole finished reading, she wrote a couple of lines at the bottom, and sent it back. Then, she got an idea. Everybody was ac customed to see her writing poems in her notebook, so for Gary’s birthday she wrote a letter instead, tore it out when no one was look ing, put it in her shoe and slipped it to Ken.

At the top she had written December second, but put a question mark after it. She was uncertain of the date. Beneath it, therefore, she wrote, Wednesday hire. Later she found out it was Thursday night.

Gary

i love you More than life.

i think about you constantly. You never leave my mind,

Before i got your letter i felt as if i was only half alive no know ing how you were. They won’t tell me nothin here. When i awoke in U.V. hospital i was only told that you had also awaken, i tryed callen you then —Next thing i knew i was being escorted here. And here is like being buried alive. Cut off from life. You. Oh, Baby, i miss you m

i’ve read your letter every chance i get. Your words touch my

soul.

i love you

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As you said in your letter, you do not need my life for yourself. i am yours through all things and time. All Things and Times. i was thinking of the best nite we had.., that was a nite of ecstacy and Love more tender than mere words can speak on. I call it Sweet Apprehension.

I despise this place. This place despises me. it is all you said it to be. Sheep, rats.

Darlin lites are out. i can jest barely see these lines.

Touch my soul with your truth …

Forevermore

NICOLE

THE NEXT FRIEND AND THE FOE

Mikal had not spoken to his brother since that moment in Court four years ago when Gary was sentenced to nine more years in jail, but he heard his name often enough these days. Ever since November , the syllables of Ga-Ry Gil-More came in over the radio with increasingly hypnotic interest in the voice of the announcer, and the leads on top of news stories leaped out from the paper until they were front-page headlines. It wasn’t far into November before Mikal made a phone call to Utah State Prison.

On the line, Gary was perfunctory. He spoke tersely. Mikal was informed that Gary had just hired a lawyer named Dennis Boaz and would appear with him at the Utah Supreme Court next morning. At

that time he would ask for the execution to be carried out. “Are you serious?” Mikal asked. “What do you think?” “I don’t know.”

“You never knew me,” said Gary.

Mikal could only request Gary to ask Dennis Boaz to give a ring. That night the lawyer called and brought Mikal up to date on a few details, but it was not much of a conversation. As soon as the Utah Supreme Court made its decision, Mikal asked, would Boaz phone again?

“Is it okay if I call collect?” said Dennis, “I’m a poor man.”

THE NEKT FRIEND AND THE FOE

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Boaz never did call. Mikal learned the outcome by watching TV. When Mikal phoned Boaz to complain, the lawyer said he’d been swarmed with calls. When Mikal wanted to know where Boaz had practiced in California, Dennis said he found Mikal’s attitude “bellig erent.” After that call, Mikal had to recognize that Gary had cut the family off. He decided to wait.

A few days later, a lawyer named Anthony Amsterdam phoned Bessie to express his interest in the case, and said he would soon be talking to her son. Mikal was ready, therefore, when the call came.

He had already looked into Amsterdam’s credentials. They certainly seemed prestigious. The man was a professor of law at Stanford Uni versity and an expert on capital punishment. A friend of Mikal’s who was going to law school said Amsterdam had won a famous Supreme CourL case called Furman v. Georgia which showed that black pris oners on Death Row were being executed in numbers far out of proportion to white prisoners with the same sentences. The case had produced a landmark decision by the Supreme Court that ruled out capital punishment for a while.

Over the phone, Tony Amsterdam now explained to Mikal that he was associated with an organization called the Legal Defense Fund and they had contacts with a nationwide network of lawyers willing to cooperate on death cases. When one of these situations took off, Amsterdam usually heard about it from several sources. In the last couple of weeks, he had certainly heard quite a bit from Utah. There had been an early call from Craig Snyder to “inform” him of the problem, and another from a prominent Salt Lake attorney named Richard Giauque. In the last few days, half a dozen lawyers he respected had gotten in touch to say the case was shocking. So Amsterdam thought it might be time to get in touch with Bessie Gilmore.