Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [129]
Yet here he was, talking to Gilmore while his attorneys were not aware of it. Still, a couple of technicalities could be argued. Gilmore had already, out on the road, in Nielsen's presence, been read his Miranda rights. Also, the attorneys had been appointed for the Provo case, not for Orem. He might still be, therefore, on legal ground. Besides, the key thing was not to get a confession but a conviction.
What would be good about a confession, even if they couldn't use it, was that it would produce information they could then employ to dig up further evidence against the guy, and get a good solid case. If they never used the confession in Court, they would have no trouble with the Miranda.
Besides, it would be good for morale. Once the police knew their man was guilty, they could feel more incentive to keep plugging hard on detail work. It would also avoid any power conflict with officers who wanted to work other leads. The confession would integrate the case, make it a psychological success.
They went through the cycle again. Nielsen talked about the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints and what his kids contributed on family night each week. Gilmore was interested in the details, and mentioned again that not only was his mother a Mormon, but all of her folks, and he talked about his father who had been a Catholic and drank like hell, and they stayed off the real subject as if they had earned a rest. .
Then they would get back to it. Nielsen would ask one, then a couple of questions. So soon as Gilmore began to assume a pose that said, "No more questions," Nielsen would talk of other things.
Jensen's coin changer had been missing from the service station and the police had spent much of yesterday going through garbage at the Holiday Inn with no results. Casually, Nielsen now asked about that. Gilmore stared at him for a long time, as if to say, "I don't know whether to answer you or not. I don't know if I can trust you." Finally he muttered, "I really don't remember. I threw it out the window of the truck, but I can't recollect if it was in the drive-in or on the road." He paused as if searching into his recollection of a movie and he said, "I honestly don't remember. It could have been at the drive-in."
"Would April know?" Nielsen asked.
"Don't worry about April," Gilmore said. "She didn't see a thing." He shook his head. "For all practical purposes, she wasn't there."
When Nielsen began to wonder whether April had any idea of the murder, Gary repeated, "Don't worry, she didn't see a thing. In her head, that little girl was never there."
He gave a turn to his mouth that was almost a smile. "You know," he said, "If I'd been thinking as straight the last couple of nights as I am today, you guys would not have caught me. When I was a kid I used to pull off robberies . . . " He had a look on his face like a pimp bragging of the number of women who worked for him over the years. "I guess," he said, "I must have pulled off fifty or seventy, maybe even a hundred successful robberies. I knew how to plan something and do it right."
Nielsen then asked him if he would have gone on killing, if he hadn't been caught. Gilmore nodded. He thought he probably would have. He sat there for a minute and looked amazed. Not amazed, but certainly surprised, and said, "God, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I've never confessed to a cop before." Nielsen thought he probably hadn't. His record was certainly hardcore all the way. Egotistically speaking, Nielsen felt bolstered. He had gotten a confession out of a hardcore criminal.
"How