Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [385]
Hansen considered that a policy of appeasement. He wasn't about to let Ritter take over the Gilmore business if he could find a way to outmaneuver him.
Chapter 29
SATURDAY
On their last visit, Gary gave Mikal a drawing of an old prison shoe.
"My self portrait," he said. They were still on the phone when Warden Smith came into Gary's booth and began to discuss the exact moment when the hood would have to be put on Gary's head. After Mikal could listen to that no longer, he rapped on the glass and said he would have to leave soon. He had to catch his plane. Would the Warden allow a final handshake?
At first, Smith refused. Then he said yes, but on condition Mikal agree to a skin search.
When that was over, two guards brought Gary in. They told Mikal to roll up his sleeve before they shook hands. It could not be, the guards warned, anything more than a handshake. So soon as Gary grasped his palm, however, he squeezed it close to crushing, and a light came into his eyes, and he said, "I guess this is it." He leaned over and kissed Mikal on the mouth. "See you in the darkness," he said.
Mikal knew he couldn't stop crying and turned away. He didn't t want Gary to see it. The guard handed over The Man in Black, a book by Johnny Cash, that Gary wished to give to Bessie, and then a drawing of Nicole. Mikal could feel Gary's eyes following him toward the double gate. "Give my love to Mom," Gary called, "and put on some weight. You're still too skinny."
This same Saturday morning Schiller had been listening to the tape of the lawyers talking to Gary on Friday afternoon. There had been quite a bit about Melvin Belli's rhinestone cowboy boots, "He buys his clothes," Gary said, "at Nudi's in Hollywood."
"What is," asked Stanger, "the biggest item you ever smuggled into a cell?"
"A 340-pound Norwegian woman wrestler."
They all laughed.
Schiller listened to talk about good guards and bad guards and what made the Warden tick. Schiller heard conversation about legal moves, and personally inscribed Bibles that came to Gary in the mail.
Then Stanger dropped by the TraveLodge and asked what Larry thought of the interview.
"Stanger," Schiller shouted, "why don't you get off your ass?"
"You, Schiller," Stanger replied, "can stick it up your ass." He stormed out.
"I'm never going to speak to Schiller again," said Stanger on the drive out to the prison. He was seething. Stanger considered himself a damn good cross-examiner. So was Bob Moody. Either one of them could rip through Gilmore, cut him left and right, exactly how Larry wanted. But there were a couple of things in the way. One was the questions Schiller and Farrell were so proud of. They seemed stupid to Stanger. Bore very little relation, from his point of view, to what Gilmore was all about.
Schiller had this huge operation going, and might end up with too little, and Ron could see the point of Schiller's worries, but his job was to build up, not break down Gilmore's confidence.
Gilmore was his client, and he was there to fill his wants, Larry looked for questions that would make Gilmore react. Stanger didn't feel like going out to prison to get the guy angry. It was okay to seek information, but not all right to probe Gary like a lab rat and keep poking wires into him. Gary was already caged up all day long.
"I'm not going to interview him today," said Stanger to Moody.
"Goddammit," said Moody, "if we're going to do a job, we're going to do it."
That was probably as large a difference between them as ever shared on any trip to Maximum.
2
Moody also thought they were doing a hell of a job, under the circumstances, even if Schiller and Farrell didn't agree. All the same, Schiller was right.