Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [274]
On the way out, Schiller left his number. He did not say that it was only a phone booth in Walgreen's Drugstore at the main intersection of Provo, and that the girl behind the soda fountain was his local secretary pro tem. He had made an arrangement with her to take his messages. He could, of course, have used his number at the Hilton in Salt Lake, but such messages were left in your box and you never knew which of a hundred reporters might rip it off. He could have had people contact him through his secretary in Los Angeles, but that meant they'd have to tackle long distance. Using Walgreen's made it easy for local people to reach him with a local call. Some of these were simple folk who might hesitate to go through the complications of area codes, operators and calling collect.
DESERET NEWS
Nov. 18-Gary Mark Gilmore, having recovered from his suicide attempt, was returned to the Utah State Prison today to await the outcome of his plea for death . . .
More than 3 dozen reporters and a dozen hospital workers were on hand to watch the handcuffed man with tousled hair get out of the wheel chair and into the brown prison car.
Gilmore, looking weak with an ashen face, scowled at his audience as he got into the vehicle's back seat.
He made an obscene gesture at the reporters.
A protective motorcade of 3 prison cars and 2 law enforcement vehicles escorted Gilmore back to the Utah State Prison in Draper.
There, the arrival was greeted with cheers and whistles from other inmates behind the prison walls.
Gilmore was taken directly to the prison infirmary where he will be watched constantly.
Schiller was present when they moved Gary. After the motorcade drove away, reporters rushed to their cars and chased them down the highway to prison. Schiller didn't follow. There would be very little at the other end, and he had gotten what he wanted.
He had seen Gilmore face to face. Of course, at a distance of twenty feet, but close enough to increase his interest. Seen in news flashes on television, Gary did not look like a killer, but coming out of the hospital this morning, sunken and gaunt in his wheelchair, his face had been full of hate. It was the livid, vindictive look of a cripple who could kill you for sheer outrage at how life had ruined his chances. In fact, as Gilmore got into the car, he turned around, looked out the window and gave a wide thin-lipped grin at the press, a mean and merciless look, and raised his middle finger slowly in the air as if to implant it forever in each witness's ass. Schiller said to himself, That man could stick his knife in you and keep a smile while doing it.
Now that Gary was back in prison, Cline Campbell visited him in the infirmary and found him sitting on the floor, going through mail.
Said in greeting "Help me," and tossed over some letters. He was sitting cross-legged with his white prison clothes on, and as soon as he could, Campbell remarked, "In a way, I'm sorry it didn't work, because it would end this great trial for you. But I'm glad you're here."
Gilmore said, "I'll do it sooner or later."
Campbell answered, "Yes, I know you're serious. Still, it's better not to kill yourself."
"Why?" asked Gilmore.
"Because," said Campbell, "you can test the law. If you kill yourself, nothing's been solved. Force them to the issue."
"The law means nothing to me, Preach."
"Well, then," said Campbell, "there's two families in Provo that are not taken care of, and if you do it right you're going to have enough money to make some contribution to the children."
Gilmore nodded. Campbell couldn't tell whether he agreed for Gary changed the subject. "Hey," he said, "if there is a God, and I believe there is, I'm going to have to face Him." He nodded again. "I know this creation we live in doesn't end up for nothing. There's got to be something over there." Then he added, "I'll come back on a higher plane."
Campbell said, "What if you come back as a prison guard?"
Gilmore said, "Oh, you