Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [287]
"It looks like you're going to get it," said Barry.
"Nothing is settled," said Schiller in a gloomy voice. "There are a lot of obstacles ahead."
"But you still have enthusiasm for the story?"
"Between us," said Schiller, "I have a big problem. Where are the sympathetic characters?"
"You have a love story," said Barry.
"I'm not so sure," Schiller told him, "I haven't met Nicole. I don't have your question 100 percent answered."
Farrell went out into the cold November sun. In the valley across the desert, the smoke from Geneva Steel in Orem was pouring forth a storm of poison so fierce that Farrell's eyes, even if long adapted to Los Angeles smog, were still smarting. He felt like one of the carrion birds. In town with all the others to see whether Gary Gilmore would die. Driving up and down the interstate, going from one newly built town to another, heading south down a smoke-filled valley, only to turn north again. Farewell Dennis. Barry Farrell couldn't decide whether he liked him or thought he was an absolute outrage to the sort of exquisitely civilized behavior Gilmore was, under it all, demanding.
Chapter 10
CONTRACT
Schiller decided to get out of Salt Lake and move down to the TraveLodge in Provo. From his room he could look out across University Avenue to the mountains, and each morning they showed more snow on the peaks, and the letter Y set out in white stone on one mountain began to be covered over.
Right away, he made appointments with Phil Christensen, Mrs. Baker's attorney, and with Robert Moody. Christensen was at three, Moody at four. He supposed the first meeting would take a half hour and then he would walk over to the other's office. They figured to be in the same area. Having scouted out the legal scene in Provo, he knew the law offices were clustered around the courthouse. Schiller didn't even bother to look up Moody's address. Bound to be around the corner. So when he walked into Christensen's building, he had a surprise. The sign downstairs read: "Christensen, Taylor, and Moody." Same fucking firm. Schiller was beaming.
This office had a small-town look. Even the veneer paneling and the yellow-orange carpet and small dark brown leather chairs, all fit.
The kind of stuff you'd find in a prefurnished little vacation home.
Perfect, When you had two partners in the same firm representing separate clients in the same case, these lawyers would take pains that they didn't have to drop out for conflict of interest. Having already proposed that Gary get $50,000 and Nicole $25,000, these two lawyers were not likely to fight the suggestion and lose the kind of fees they could collect.
Phil Christensen turned out to be a distinguished senior party with white hair, but before five minutes were gone, Schiller felt as if he had begun to reach Christensen with his knowledge of law. Right off, he said, "I don't want the legal expenses to be deducted from the money I'm offering Nicole Barrett, so I'll ask you what would be appropriate." Christensen told him a thousand dollars might be right, and Schiller said, "Let's make it $26,000 to Nicole Barrett, but I want Mrs. Baker to pay your retainer out of that." It was Schiller's way of establishing that Christensen would be the lawyer for Nicole's mother, not for Schiller. That really impressed Christensen. Then, Schiller said, "Of course, it's understood that all this has to be approved by the Court." He didn't want to move ahead until Christensen got a legally appointed guardian. Schiller said he thought Nicole's mother ought to be appointed as guardian of the estate and the Court, of course, be guardian of the person. Christensen looked at him. "How'd you learn about that?" he asked. It was one more way to increase Christensen's respect.
A little later, when Kathryne Baker came into the meeting, Christensen even said, "We haven't settled all the financial questions, but I can tell you I feel very comfortable with Mr. Schiller." In fact, Christensen did ask for more money. He wanted $5,000 for April's medical