Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [380]
"I'm not walking any Last Mile," Schiller screamed, "I don't even know if I want the fucking guy to be executed."
Then, an interview was brought in by Moody that covered Gary's feelings about the hood. It could be fleshed out to 1,500 words for the newspapers, yet not give away the vitals of the story. Schiller decided to release it to a few chosen reporters. That would be Breslin, Dave Johnston, and Tamera Smith.
Barry and he almost came to fists. "Don't you fucking tell me how to run this," he said to Farrell, "I'm really using my head."
These last couple of days, the world press had been coming in, by God, flocking over Salt Lake as if it were the scene of a heavy weight championship. Now, he didn't have to worry about twenty local reporters who hated his guts. He had three hundred guys to deal with and each wanted a lock of Gary's hair or a fingernail cutting. Plus, the execution itself. He had better get ready for that.
Schiller called Gus Sorensen and brought Barry Farrell down on himself again. Schiller said, "I have to deliver a message to the Warden. I want to make sure Sam Smith realizes I ain't going to screw him if I get invited to the execution. The Warden is the only one who can stop me, okay? The law says he can't, but he can. So I got to deliver a message that if I'm invited, I'll conduct myself his way."
Gus Sorensen came over Thursday afternoon, and Larry gave the interview. It was designed to show that he saw his responsibilities and would abide by the rules of the prison.
6
Stephanie's team only made three or four sales in Europe. While Stephanie had enjoyed being in Paris at the Georges Cinq, she hated being a businesswoman. A couple of the foreign magazines agreed to buy, then backed out. In France, where Schiller had been counting on a big sale, some local murder took headlines away from Gilmore.
So after Larry paid off the cost of the trip, which for the three women came to ten grand, he had netted no more than another ten. No bonanza. To make it worse, Stephie had decided to stop in New York.
She would most definitely not come out to Utah. The whole thing, Gilmore, the press, the execution, was repulsive to her.
It was near midnight, while Larry was digesting Stephie's news, that Moyers phoned to say he was going to get in to see Gilmore.
Wanted Schiller to know that. "No," said Schiller, "no way."
"Well, Larry," said Moyers, "Gilmore's willing to see me."
"That's a lie, Bill. I would have heard."
But would he? Moyers wasn't the type to call, unless he was pretty sure. Schiller was trying to figure out how the man could get in. It had to be through Mikal. So now he asked, "Have you seen Gary's brother?"
"Yeah," said Moyers, "he's in my room. He's been in my room for days."
There went the ball game. Schiller felt wiped out. God what kind of good, incredibly valuable information Moyers had been pumping out of Mikal. Lost was an organic form of communication.
After he hung up, he knew pure ego jealousy. They wouldn't let him in to see Gilmore. He had tried every goddamned trick and still had no more relationship with the guy than a fucking tape recorder. He called Bob Moody and said, "Bill Moyers claims he's getting in. Get to Gary and tell him how it will blow everything we've built up here and worked hard for."
Larry called Moyers back, and started calmly. But when they got to the place where Moyers still said he would see Gary Gilmore on his own, Schiller blew. "Bill," he said, "you're double-crossing me. I've been helping you on the assumption you're playing ball with me, and you're trying to get in through Mikal. That's not the guy I had dinner with." Schiller was putting all his strength into the mouthpiece of the phone. "I wouldn't use a brother to get in," he said to Moyers. "The guy has come here to save his brother's life. He has to make that decision, and you're befriending him just to see Gary Gilmore." Right