Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [329]
He knew Judges who were ready to take their own lives before they would pronounce the death sentence. Judge Bullock didn't see himself as a conscientious objector, but he still didn't like capital punishment.
Before Gilmore, he had never even had a capital case. He had tried all kinds of second degree, five years to life, but never Murder One. It proved harder than he expected. The Jury had found Gilmore guilty, so he had only had to express the sentence. Yet, on that October day, he shook within, he agonized. Outwardly, Judge Bullock hoped he maintained composure and dignity. Inside, he felt more emotion than he would ever have expected.
Now, he'd have to sentence him once more. It would be the same sentence, but a different date. He would nonetheless have to utter the words. That tearing and churning at the pit of the stomach, that long emotional drain over a few words, would begin again. And all the public clamor. If the guy wants to die, give it to him right now.
No, said Bullock to himself, I will not rush it. The processes have to be followed. Those who will want to appeal are entitled to have the time to go to Court properly.
When he heard therefore that Moody and Stanger, on Gilmore's instructions, would move for an early date, he did not feel disposed toward the idea.
2
Coming down the courthouse corridor, Gilmore looked like a man coming in with hope. To Schiller's eye, Gary didn't seem nearly so frail as during the hunger strike. He might be just two days off his fast, but he was carrying himself well. Had a little cadence to his walk, as if even with the shackles, he could take small, prancing steps that were a little faster, a little more stylish, than the plodding pace of the guards next to him. Something nice about the way he moved, as if hearing an inner beat.
Of course, Schiller knew the reason. This morning, Gary was expecting to talk to Nicole. Bob Moody had filled Larry in on what he hoped to pull off in the courthouse today. He and Stanger intended to get their client back to Bullock's empty chambers, and from there ring up the hospital on the Judge's phone, and ask to speak to Sundberg. Ken would then pass the phone on to Nicole.
Bringing off the phone call had become a commitment for Bob Moody. The first time he ever laid eyes on Gilmore had happened to be outside this same courtroom when the Bushnell case was being tried. On that day, Bob had seen Nicole rush up to embrace Gary, and some special intensity in the demonstration of affection had stirred Moody to say to himself, "There's one girl immensely in love."
It wasn't uncommon in Moody's experience that when a young criminal was taken out of Court-especially if he was good looking and had one of these macho mustaches-that a young woman would come running up to kiss him. In fact, such embraces usually went on for quite a while. This one, however, between Gilmore and his girl, must have been the longest and most passionate Bob ever saw. It went over the edge of decorum. He had to wonder a little about people who felt that strongly.
Moody might be fairly high in the Church, but saw himself as something of a liberal. From time to time, he liked, for instance, to contemplate such problems as why it was that good-looking girls like this always seemed to go for criminals. He knew his own experience wouldn't provide the answer. He placed himself as one of those steadfast fellows whose biggest problem in life had been whether to become a dentist, a businessman, or a lawyer. Now, he and his wife had five children, which made for a different relation than you were going to see in a courthouse corridor,
Still, the memory of that first time he laid eyes on Gilmore always gave flavor to what Gary said about Nicole. It provided Moody with a bit of sympathy for what others might have seen as an outlandish desire to reach the girl at all costs. So Moody had been going to some ends to bring it off.
3
When they got down the hall today, however, they were put in a room without a phone. Their plan