Executioner's Song, The - Norman Mailer [71]
"You mean you're not going to lock me up?"
"I don't want to jeopardize your job."
"Well, okay, you know." Gilmore was certainly surprised. He sat there for a minute. "Could I make a phone call?" he asked next. "I don't have a ride."
"You bet."
He made a couple of calls but couldn't reach anybody. "Maybe," he said, "I ought to go to Provo and get that car out of impound. I'll hitch a ride."
"Well," said Nielsen, "I'm going there now. I'll give you the ride."
Nielsen drove him to the Provo Police Department, took him to the proper window, and left. Gilmore began to make arrangements to get Nicole's car out. There were complications. The drive-in speakers had been discovered. Since they had not been listed when the car was first impounded, but only on the next day, there was no legal basis for adding stolen speakers to the Complaint. Anyone at The Whip, for instance, could have put them in the trunk.
Three hours after he kissed her goodbye and left in Mont Court's car, Gary came driving up to the house in her blue Mustang. He was bright-eyed and talking a streak. Told her they had to get down to court fast. It was a real opportunity. The police Complaint, he had learned, wasn't going to be ready until tomorrow.
If he went over now, he explained to Nicole, there would be no cop around to go into detail over what he had done. He was only up for petty theft. The Judge wouldn't know if it was a dollar or ninety-nine dollars. Besides, he'd also heard the regular Judge was on vacation. There was only a Pro Tem, that is, just a regular lawyer standing in, not a real Judge. He wouldn't know that much. It was made to order. On a misdemeanor, with no prosecutor and no cop to read the Complaint, it could be like coming to pay a traffic ticket.
Even with Gary's explanation, she was surprised by the Judge. He didn't look more than 30. He was a small man with a large head, and he said aloud that he didn't know anything about the case. Gary kept talking to him as smoothly as a salesman making the deal. He was careful to threw in a "sir" now and then.
Nicole wasn't so sure it was working. The Judge had the expression of a man who was not getting a particularly good feeling. One uptight Mormon. When Gary asked what the penalties might be on a plea of Guilty, the Judge said he would make no promises. As a Class B misdemeanor, it could amount to 90 days in jail and $299 for the fine.
She began to wonder. When Gary said, "Your Honor, I think I'm going to enter a plea of Guilty," the Judge asked if he was on drugs or drunk. Did he realize he was waiving his right to a trial and to counsel? The language sounded awful, but by the flat way the young Judge laid it down and Gary nodded, she hoped it was routine.
Then the Judge said he wanted a presentence investigation through the Probation and Parole Department. Now Gary had to explain he already had a local officer. Nicole thought Gary was hanging himself for sure. The Judge frowned and said he would give him until five o'clock to post bail of $100. Otherwise, he could report to the County jail.
Gary said he didn't have any hope of getting that much money before five o'clock. Wouldn't the Judge give him a release if his probation officer vouched for him? The Judge said, "I'm a firm believer that people should not be punished because of lack of funds. Since you walked in of your own accord, I will consider your request. Let your probation officer call me."
Gary came out of the phone booth smiling. Court was pleased he'd turned himself in, so it looked like they wouldn't have to worry for a month. Of course, there would be a presentence investigation, and then he would have to appear on July 4 for sentencing, but maybe it would cool off by then. They walked out of the courtroom together.
Now, after all that had happened, after the fight with the Chicano, and the terrible night on the highway, after two days of being apart and knowing the fear of being separated for a lot more than that, they were together again. For a