Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [284]
In fact, Schiller did not have a clear or certain idea what all these attorneys might say about him, but, then, it had been his experience that very few people actually made such phone calls.
When Vern met his lawyer, Bob Moody, on Monday morning, he thought he was a quiet, confident, intelligent man. Moody was well built, and half bald, and his eyeglasses looked competent. His way of talking was very carefully spoken. Vern noticed that when Bob Moody said something, he didn't have to repeat it. Assumed you understood.
Vern saw him as in the category of upper class. Would belong to the country club and have an expensive home in the foothills of Provo. "Mortgage Heights," Vern called it.
To Moody, Vern Damico seemed a concerned relative, sincerely looking for good advice and the best deal he could shape up. He kept saying that he wanted Gary's wishes to be carried out. He wanted some kind of dignity retained for his nephew if possible.
Moody talked to him about the difficulty of trying to represent Gary's criminal interests and his literary estate. Bob Moody didn't think it would work to negotiate contracts for books or films while trying to advise Gary on his legal situation. Suppose, at some point, Gary wished to change his mind and appeal, why then the rights for his life story would be considerably less. A potential conflict of interest existed right there. You just didn't want a situation where a lawyer might have to ask himself whether his client's death might be more profitable to him. Vern nodded. A second lawyer would be necessary.
Bob now mentioned a fellow named Ron Stanger. A local man with whom he had worked in the past. Worked with him, worked against him. He felt he could recommend Ron.
In fact, Moody had already called Stanger over the weekend.
"How," Bob Moody had kidded, "would you like to take over from Dennis Boaz?" They had agreed it would be fascinating. Lots of public appeal and great legal questions. In fact, a fellow like Gilmore, capable of putting the State of Utah through hoops, ought to be interesting to meet.
Of course, they also wondered whether this would be another crusade where you don't get paid. Moody had said goodbye to Stanger with the mutual understanding that they would consider a lot of things, and one was capital punishment. Of course, you could assume it would not go that far. Probably, the convict was bluffing.
When it got to last push against last shove, he'd appeal.
Just about a week ago, Moody and Stanger had happened to be leaving Court together, and saw Snyder and Esplin out on the court house lawn being interviewed by local TV. As they drove past, they catcalled. It was really funny seeing Craig and Mike under TV lights.
Shortly thereafter, they ribbed Snyder in the coffee shop. How did it feel to carry out an appeal your client didn't want? "You really do good work," they told him with a grin. Snyder grinned back.
Even after the suicide attempt it was hard for Moody and Stanger to take the case with complete seriousness. By then, courthouse talk was "Snyder, your work is going to blazes. Your man is carrying out the sentence himself." But, then, lawyers had to be like surgeons, joked while they washed their hands. So, on the phone that Saturday night, when Moody told Stanger there was a good possibility he'd be called in, Stanger replied, "All we need is to be on TV and have Craig Snyder drive by."
Now, discussing it with Vern on Monday morning, Bob Moody said over the phone, "Ron, come over and meet Vern and see what he thinks of you." It was his way of telling Stanger he had the job.
Vern was struck with the difference. Ron was a real peppy fellow.
In fact, his physical appearance threw Vern. Stanger looked like a fresh kid out