Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [337]
"Halterman a good friend?" Farrell asked.
"I would say," said Gibbs, "he is nobody to fool with." He giggled.
"Ken likes to tell how he's a bad shot, because one time he tried to hit a friend of mine in the heart, but missed and hit between the eyes. Now he wants to be on the firing squad for Gilmore." He giggled again.
"What are we wasting our time with this snitch for?" Farrell asked Schiller. "I don't even like to be in the same room." He got up abruptly and walked out. They were really trying to reduce the price, Gibbs thought.
Halterman happened to be in the corridor. Farrell buttonholed him. "I heard that story how you hit the fellow between the eyes," he said.
It caught Halterman by surprise. "Well," he said, "ha, ha," trying to get started.
"Have you put in your application for Gilmore's firing squad?" Barry asked.
"I'd be proud to get on it. Gilmore is a homicidal maniac."
"Well," said Barry, "when it comes to Gary, you must not miss! Gilmore's eyes, his kidneys, his liver, and some other valuable organs are going to people who need them. If you shoot, get the heart." Halterman looked back at him like he didn't know if Farrell was a lunatic or a Judge.
"You get it straight," said Halteman. "I'm not a bad shot, I'm a good shot. I aimed to hit Gibbs's friend in the eye and I hit him in the eye. You have to know you can take a human life before you ever put on a police uniform."
Gibbs knew he had been talking to Schiller too freely. Supposedly, it was just samples, but he was really giving it away. Yet, divulging the information seemed to cool his fear a bit.
Trying to up the ante, he said, "Gilmore has told me things he hasn't told anyone else alive."
"Gary has already given us everything you said," Schiller replied.
More turkey product, thought Gibbs. But he had blown it, he knew. The offer, when it came, was for two hundred, no more. A release, not an exclusive.
Schiller was feeling good. Gibbs had corroborated every story they picked up in Gary's letters. He had talked about Luis the wetback jailer, and Powers, and the dixie cup with the string that burned, and Gibbs's generosity with money. There was the mending of the false teeth, the haircuts, painting on the walls, painting each other's faces-all of it had been told again by Gibbs. Moreover, he was no threat. He really didn't know much about Nicole. Just a sidebar to the main tale.
So Schiller had gained a lot. That phrase of Gary's: "Larry, have you read the letters I wrote to Nicole?-Tell me" was still vibrating in his head. He had needed a way to ask Gary questions that originated from the letters, but he had also needed a means of concealing how he acquired such information. Gibbs's stories would take care of that.
4
Maybe it had gone too well. Even as Schiller reached into his pocket for the release, and said, "Two pages. One for you to keep, one copy for me," Gibbs looked back with a real sleazo grin. "You just dropped some money on the floor, you got so much," he said.
Schiller looked down. There were green bills all over. "Ah, shit," said Schiller, "am I that rich?" A key from the TraveLodge was also on the floor.
"You and Barry," asked Gibbs, "staying at the TraveLodge?" At this point, Farrell nodded, and Schiller shook his head in the negative. Gibbs commented. "He shakes his head yes, you say no." Schiller said, "You didn't ask me if I was registered at the TraveLodge, you asked me if I was staying there." He laughed loudly. "Well, I'll advise you of your rights." Gibbs gave him a look, and changed the subject.
By the time they got back to the motel,