Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [285]
"Not really," said Stanger, pointing to Moody, "this bald-headed guy and I are practically the same age." Vern didn't know if he liked him. Stanger's eyes were gleaming, like his hooves were flashing in the air. "Let's get it on," was his look. Maybe that was good for a lawyer.
Vern was having to make a lot of decisions about people before he knew how much to trust them. That was not what he would call comfortable.
A few years back, when Moody was Assistant County Attorney, he had been prosecuting a drug charge, and Ron Stanger had been defending. Ron's methods that day were downright insulting. Moody finally got so mad, the Judge called Stanger and him to the bench, and the Jury got a big kick out of that. Two lawyers fighting to the death. In the closing argument, Ron added the crowning blow of telling the Jury that if Mr. Moody had really been ready to prove his case, he would have taken this ten-dollar bill the prosecution said was paid over for drugs, and shown the fingerprints on it. It was a closing argument, with no opportunity for rebuttal, so Bob couldn't reply that a ten-dollar bill has no less than ten thousand fingerprints on it. He was plenty upset. Part of the game was to win your case-you loved to win-but Ron's tactics had gone further than a friendly jab or two.
Exploring your feelings was an expensive procedure if you had to use unpaid office time to do it, but, from the outset, this job gave Moody more to think about than was customary. Most of his practice was domestic relations, personal injury work, local stores, stuff where he could deal with people. He liked to get out of the office. It was better to go on an investigative tour than get locked up in Probate and endless bookkeeping, so he usually enjoyed a criminal case if it came his way. Certainly, he had never found anything incompatible about being a criminal lawyer and a high member of the Mormon Church, and this case definitely gave him an agreeable tingle, but he could see that Gilmore was going to stretch many feelings. A lot of people would query the moral rights of what he was doing.
It was sometimes hard for religious-minded people to comprehend why a lawyer was there in the first place for certain defendants.
They didn't understand that the basis of the adversary system was the right of a defendant to have his story told in Court as well as possible.
So they could never comprehend that it was not unnatural for two lawyers to be at each other's throat in the courtroom, then sit down afterward to eat together.
While waiting for the Jury to decide, feeling emotionally uptight, they nonetheless had lunch together. The Jury, passing by the coffee shop, saw them eating and laughing, and actually sent a couple of representatives to the Judge to say the lawyers were not sincere. So Bob could see what was coming up. That episode wouldn't be a whiff to the fumes which would arise in this case.
"Nothing personal against you guys," Gilmore said, "I just don't like lawyers." Then he'd burp. The sound of an empty stomach was in the earpiece of the phone.
Vern took a couple of letterheads from Moody's office and Stanger's, and brought them to Gary next day. "These lawyers are local people," he told Gary. "My truthful opinion is I don't think you can go wrong. They'll fight for your rights."
Gary asked, "Do they believe in capital punishment?"
Vern didn't know exactly-it occurred to him he hadn't even asked Moody-but he said, "They'll defend your rights regardless of how they feel."
Moody and Stanger came over to the prison a little later. Gary wanted to look them over. So, they met. On opposite sides of the glass. Spoke by telephone, and it was a cold meeting. "Do you want us to represent you?" they asked, and Gary answered, "Let me talk to my uncle."
A long conversation went on between Gilmore and Vern. Moody heard words on Vern's side,