Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [330]
Gary whispered, "The Judge looks like Phil Silvers."
"Who?" Moody whispered back.
"Sergeant Bilko."
Something to it. Same horn-rimmed eyeglasses, bald top, somewhat pendulous nose, same halfway pleasant expression. If Gary was getting contemptuous of the Judge, however, it meant Gary thought he was licked.
Then Wootton took over. The 30/60 statute, he argued, could now be measured from today, December 5, which would place the earliest date of execution at January 5. It was not healthy, legally speaking, he said, to ram through an execution. Bullock kept nodding.
Schiller could see Gary give a look like everyone around him was scum. Damned if he didn't use his turn to say that nobody here had guts enough to let him die. All they were doing was jacking him around. The way he said "jacking" was obscene. It sent a ripple through the room.
Bullock ignored the remark. How could you sentence a man to Contempt when he was already bound over to execution?
"Unless this is a joke," said Gilmore, "I expect . . . " and he went on to say that he expected his sentence to take place in the next few days. "I'm serious about wanting to end my life," said Gilmore. "The least justice can do is to recognize that."
Bullock set the date for January 7. "We're not here," said the Judge, "to accommodate you."
After Court, Gilmore happened to pass Wootton in the corridor.
He took the opportunity to say, "Why don't you suck my cock, you motherfucker?" Wootton didn't reply.
4
Now that they had a full month before the execution, Schiller had a time-line long enough to sell the letters, so, after Court, he invited Vern and Bob and Ron out to lunch. Even asked them to pick a good restaurant. Since there was nothing around Orem or Provo that qualified, they ended up in some big Bavarian place in the foothills of Salt Lake City, and had to wait for a quiet corner table while a lot of businessmen were talking away at the top of their lungs. Schiller, however, wanted the right situation for this talk.
Since he figured he would have to sell Moody on the proposal more than Stanger, he put Ron to his right and Moody across.
Thereby he could look directly into Bob's eyes while making his pitch. Over food, he got into it all, really laid it on the line. He told them that he wanted to sell some of the letters in Europe for publication shortly before the execution, but could conceal the transactions in such a way that nobody would ever know who made the sale. The letters, after all, had been printed already in the Deseret News. There had to be at least one set of Xeroxes floating around.
He couldn't pretend, he said, not to be concerned by Gary's reaction.
The shit, Schiller assured them, would certainly hit the fan if Gary found out. Still, it wasn't going to hurt the man. Gary was more sympathetic in his letters than any other presentation he gave of himself. Moreover, his privacy had already been breached. The lines Tamera had quoted in the Deseret News had been syndicated across half of the world. Schiller said he would repeat what he had told them at the beginning: there were going to be a lot of things they might not like, but he would always lay it out. He would not work behind their backs.
A lot of discussion went on. Schiller felt the lawyers were surprised he was this open. As he'd expected, Moody was relatively against the project, and discussed with Stanger what the public effect might be if it all came out. They certainly didn't want to be tagged with Boaz's posture. Schiller kept repeating that if the letters they held weren't published, foreign papers would buy from other sources. Somebody was going to make money on Gary Gilmore.
Schiller could see that Vern was being torn right down the middle. Subconsciously, he estimated, Vern wanted the money, but never did say, "I have