They hadn't seen her since the funeral of Grandpa Brown almost eighteen years ago. She had certainly changed. She was no longer beautiful. She had the washed-out, unhealthy look of someone who was in a great deal of pain and rarely saw fresh air. Ida couldn't get over it. Bessie's green eyes had been bright as gems. Now there seemed to be a dull gray film on them.
Ida knew why she hadn't wanted to let them in. With her arthritis she could hardly clean up the litter. When Bessie had lived in Provo, waiting for Frank Sr. to get out of prison, her little house had been immaculate. Ida thought of tidying up a little, but could tell by the expression on Bessie's face that she better not do a thing.
Vern, however, did look in the cupboards and refrigerator, and Bessie was certainly short of food. So he drove down to a grocery store, and brought back about fifty dollars' worth of stuff. After the groceries were laid away, he told Bessie he had some legal papers, and explained there was also a thousand dollars he would leave as a gift from Gary. When she started to thank him, Vern said, "I'm just the mailman. I deliver, that's all." He added there was another thousand she could have by signing papers Larry Schiller had sent up.
Bessie looked at the release, thought about it, said, "I don't think I'll do it right now."
Vern had promised Larry he would try hard. When they came back next day, he brought up the subject again. He could feel how wary she was in business affairs. Like a deer downwind. Didn't matter if you were approaching with a rifle in your hands, or a carrot, there wasn't much talking to the deer. "At this time, Vern," she said,
"I'll just hold off." He didn't press her too hard. He said, "My opinion is, you should sign. To help out matters, let's all stick together. See if we can't make something out of the whole thing. I believe Schiller's a good, reputable man."
Bessie just said, "No, I want to wait and see." Vern let it go.
No way you could drag something out of Bessie against her will. Just as soon try it with Gary.
As they got up to leave, Vern took out a thousand dollars in cash and laid it on the table. It was the closest Gary came to being there. Bessie broke down and wept. She and Ida embraced, and Bessie said, "Well, I can certainly use that." They also left a red hand-knit shawl with her, and fluffy house slippers to keep her feet warm.
Somehow, they had never got around to talking of Bessie's case at the Supreme Court. It wasn't until they got back to Provo on December 13th, that Vern heard of the decision in Washington, D.C.
Ten days after the stay, Stanger got a call from the Clerk of the U.S Supreme Court, who said, "I just want to let you know we're going to have a decision today. They're in hand-twisting right now," and Ron got a picture of nine Supreme Court Justices wringing their mitts.
The thought that the Supreme Court was breathing the same legal air on this day as everybody in Utah was exciting.
At the Attorney General's office, word arrived from the Clerk that the vote was being taken, and all the staff got around a large table and listened on a conference call, tallying feverishly as the Clerk read the decision of each Justice. They were so excited they had to add it up a second time to discover they had won 5-4. Bill Evans, Bill Barrett, Mike Deamer, and Earl Dorius were ecstatic. The Stay of Execution had been lifted. It was GO again.
DESERET NEWS
No More Delays Gilmore Stays
Salt Lake, Dec. 13th—In an order Monday, the U.S. Supreme Court ruled that Gary Mark Gilmore had made a knowing and intelligent waiver of his rights.
On hearing the decision, Gilmore ended a 25 day hunger strike.
Coming into the prison, Moody and Stanger noticed that the guards in the front lobby looked happy. The mood permeated right out to the gate. There was a lot of pressure lifted now that Gary was done with his strike.
When Bob and Ron saw him, they just said, "We understand you came off," and he gave a nod of his head, said, "It was my decision."
It was as if he had been the one controlling the situation. They were careful not to mention that he never did get his telephone call to Nicole. Since they had failed to get it through, they were in no hurry to tease him. Besides, he was in an awful good mood about the Supreme Court.
Actually, it was a relief to the attorneys as well.
Talking about the end of the hunger strike, Stanger said to Schiller, "Gary proved his point." Schiller couldn't resist saying, "What point?"
"Everybody knows he was serious now," said Stanger. It all struck Schiller as a little fuzzy. The truth, obviously, was that nothing was working. Gilmore had expected a lot of results from his hunger strike, got none, and had enough sense of public relations to go back to eating on a day when there was a bigger story to interest the public.
What made Schiller's day, however, was that Gary informed Stanger he would answer the second batch of written questions and was willing to look at a new set that Larry had prepared.
The second set of answers proved, however, disappointing. It was as if the longer the hunger strike had gone on, the more Gary had had to play the con. So many questions were left blank. Invariably, the best ones.
WHY DID YOU TAKE THINGS WITHOUT PAYING FOR THEM—BEER—GUNS—GRAND CENTRAL, ETC.?
Didn't always have time to stand in those long checkout counter lines.
DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT YOUR SUBCONSCIOUS MIND WAS DOING WHEN YOU KILLED?
I probably wouldn't mind knowing if I could know the truth, exactly.
I don't want it explained to me by some idiot headshrinker who's full of bullshit conjecture
WHAT DID YOU AND NICOLE FIGHT ABOUT? GIVE ME DIFFERENT KINDS OF FIGHTS.
Ask her.
WHY AND WHAT TOOK PLACE ON JULY 13, 1976, THAT CAUSED NICOLE TO LEAVE YOU? PLEASE ELABORATE.
Ask her.
BEFORE THE PROVO KILLINGS HAVE YOU EVER ATTEMPTED TO TAKE YOUR LIFE? IF YES ARE YOU UPSET THAT YOU FAILED AND WHY?
. . .
PLEASE TELL ME EVERYTHING THAT TOOK PLACE AT THE MOTEL FOR THE TIME YOU WERE THERE WITH APRIL.
. . .
WHY DID YOU STOP AT THE GAS STATION AND WHAT TOOK PLACE? WHAT WERE YOU AND APRIL TALKING ABOUT BEFORE THE GAS STATION?
. . .
WHY DID YOU ROB BEFORE YOU KILLED—WHY NOT JUST KILL OR JUST ROB?
Habit, I guess.
My lifestyle.
We're all creatures of habit.
Somebody else from a different background might do it different.
That's a good question. A valid question. I may as well have just killed—but I'm a thief. An ex-con, a robber. I was reverting to habit—perhaps so that it made some sense to me.
Hope I've answered this one.
Now Larry, I have a question for you and I'd appreciate a prompt honest answer.
Have you read the letters I wrote to Nicole?
Tell me.
It threw a scare into Schiller. He would have to move quickly on getting Vern and the lawyers to agree to sell the letters overseas. If he waited much longer, Gary might begin to make a large issue of these letters.
Schiller put the problem out of mind and went on to the next batch of answers. Gary had done those on the day he began to eat again and thankfully, there was more to his replies.
DID YOU REALLY WANT TO "START OVER" WHEN YOU CAME OUT ON PAROLE THIS TIME? DO YOU THINK THINGS JUST STARTED SNOWBALLING AND YOU GAVE UP TRYING? YOU WERE FUCKING UP ANYWAY SO WHAT THE HELL . . .
Yeah, what the hell! Wish I could talk to you, Schiller. I don't like to write. Just ain't the same as talking. You'd get more spontaneity in verbal exchange and, hence, better answers. I'm very concerned that you understand me correctly.
I can tell by your questions that you really don't know what I want to tell you. You're about 35 degrees off the mark. This is a piss poor way to communicate.
WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT BEING IN JAIL?
—You could easily do away with a lot of jails.
They're shit. They breed, they don't deter, crime.
Right now, I'm a prisoner of my body—
I'm trapped in myself—
Worse than jail!
DID YOU EVER THINK ABOUT DEATH BEFORE YOU WERE FACED WITH THE DEATH SENTENCE?
A lot.
In depth.
A very lot.
Oh, yes.
HOW DID YOU FIRST MEET NICOLE? HOW DID YOUR RELATIONSHIP START?
It was, to each of us, like finding a part of us that had been lost and missing for a while. I can't prove it, but I know.
Want to know something else! I've been famous before—not infamous like now, but famous and rich too. Maybe that's why this don't mean a whole lot to me right now. This is all happening as it was meant to. Inward—in that quiet place that counsels—I always knew. It's no surprise. Nothing to get choked up about.
IT MAY SEEM LUDICROUS, TERRIBLY PSYCHOANALYTICAL, INANE, WHATEVER, BUT WHAT DO YOU THINK OF YOUR MOTHER AND HER ROLE IN YOUR EARLY LIFE?
I love my mother. She's a beautiful strong woman. Has always been consistent in her love for me. My mother and I have always had a good relationship. Besides being mother and son we're also friends.
She's a good mother of pioneer Mormon stock. A good woman. What do you think of your mother?
DO YOU GENERALLY CARE WHAT PEOPLE THINK ABOUT YOU?
Yes.
Everybody does.
Yes, he did care, thought Schiller. It gave one more reason the letters should be sold and printed. The public would be less completely hostile to Gilmore.
As a sign of friendship, or was it an indication of Gilmore's own interest in presenting some better picture of himself, he had also sent along a poem he had written several years back. Schiller wasn't sure what to make of it, but thought he could pull some lines to give Time or Newsweek when they got desperate for copy.
The Land Lord
an introspection by Gary Gilmore
Feeling a beckoning wind blow thru
The chambers of my soul I knew
It was time I entered in
I climbed within and stared about—
I was home indeed my very seed
A mirror of me reflecting myself
From every curve and line and shelf
Every surface there
Every texture bare
Every color tone and value
Each sound
Pride Hate Vanity
Sloth Waste Insanity Lust Envy Want
Ignorance black and green
I felt myself at every turning
Set my very mind to burning
Face to face no way to dodge
Headlong I tumbled thru this lodge
I felt and met alone myself
A red scream rushed forth
But I caught it back and checked its force
It crescendoed into a hopeless heavy weight
in the blood and fell . . .
A beat of wing I felt and heard
Not at all like any bird
Overhead I saw myself contorted black
and brown and twisted mean—borne aloft
by a gray bat wing—growing from
my shoulders there . . .
One thing was peculiar clear
There was no scorn to menace here
This is just the way it is
Laid bare to the bone
And I built this house I alone
I am the Land Lord here
PART FOUR
The Holiday Season
Chapter 18
PENITENTIAL DAYS
One of the jurors from Gary's trial wrote a letter to the Provo Herald.
The Utah Supreme Court hadn't found any error, he said, so why had Gilmore's case gone to the U.S. Supreme Court?
Judge Bullock started to think about the juror. From the tenor of his letter, Bullock got the impression that some Jury members were wondering if they had done their job properly. There had been so many appeals. The Judge thought: "I'm going to ask that Jury to come back in. Maybe I'm sticking my neck out, but I want to explain the legal procedures."
He had his clerk make each contact. Didn't want the jurors to feel there was pressure from Judge J. Robert Bullock himself, so the clerk merely announced that the Judge, strictly unofficially, would be willing to meet with them and go over any legal questions they might have. Every juror accepted. They all came in.
He met them in Court when nobody was around one evening, and put them in the Jury box. He sat down in front, and explained the right of appeal, and how this case was likely to go on for several more years. In fact, it would be unusual if it was brought to conclusion in less time. He pointed out that people had a right to go to Court to fight for legal principles in which they believed, and said the law on capital punishment had not been settled. People hadn't been executed since 1967, so it was highly appropriate that delays take place. But he wanted the Jury to understand that they had not done their part of the job incorrectly.
There was the sore spot. Judge Bullock told them that their verdict could not be impeached under any circumstances. "I," he said, "could have made errors in telling you what the law is, but you have not made errors. You have done your job." He could feel these words helped them. They now felt better about it all.
He also repeated it might take a few years, and said, "That's the way it is, let's not fight the system." To his surprise, shortly after this meeting the Supreme Court lifted their Stay. In consequence, Gilmore was now scheduled to be brought back to his Court for resentencing on December 15. Judge Bullock had to start agonizing again.
He knew Judges who were ready to take their own lives before they would pronounce the death sentence. Judge Bullock didn't see himself as a conscientious objector, but he still didn't like capital punishment.
Before Gilmore, he had never even had a capital case. He had tried all kinds of second degree, five years to life, but never Murder One. It proved harder than he expected. The Jury had found Gilmore guilty, so he had only had to express the sentence. Yet, on that October day, he shook within, he agonized. Outwardly, Judge Bullock hoped he maintained composure and dignity. Inside, he felt more emotion than he would ever have expected.
Now, he'd have to sentence him once more. It would be the same sentence, but a different date. He would nonetheless have to utter the words. That tearing and churning at the pit of the stomach, that long emotional drain over a few words, would begin again. And all the public clamor. If the guy wants to die, give it to him right now.
No, said Bullock to himself, I will not rush it. The processes have to be followed. Those who will want to appeal are entitled to have the time to go to Court properly.
When he heard therefore that Moody and Stanger, on Gilmore's instructions, would move for an early date, he did not feel disposed toward the idea.
Coming down the courthouse corridor, Gilmore looked like a man coming in with hope. To Schiller's eye, Gary didn't seem nearly so frail as during the hunger strike. He might be just two days off his fast, but he was carrying himself well. Had a little cadence to his walk, as if even with the shackles, he could take small, prancing steps that were a little faster, a little more stylish, than the plodding pace of the guards next to him. Something nice about the way he moved, as if hearing an inner beat.
Of course, Schiller knew the reason. This morning, Gary was expecting to talk to Nicole. Bob Moody had filled Larry in on what he hoped to pull off in the courthouse today. He and Stanger intended to get their client back to Bullock's empty chambers, and from there ring up the hospital on the Judge's phone, and ask to speak to Sundberg. Ken would then pass the phone on to Nicole.
Bringing off the phone call had become a commitment for Bob Moody. The first time he ever laid eyes on Gilmore had happened to be outside this same courtroom when the Bushnell case was being tried. On that day, Bob had seen Nicole rush up to embrace Gary, and some special intensity in the demonstration of affection had stirred Moody to say to himself, "There's one girl immensely in love."
It wasn't uncommon in Moody's experience that when a young cri
minal was taken out of Court—especially if he was good looking and had one of these macho mustaches—that a young woman would come running up to kiss him. In fact, such embraces usually went on for quite a while. This one, however, between Gilmore and his girl, must have been the longest and most passionate Bob ever saw. It went over the edge of decorum. He had to wonder a little about people who felt that strongly.
Moody might be fairly high in the Church, but saw himself as something of a liberal. From time to time, he liked, for instance, to contemplate such problems as why it was that good-looking girls like this always seemed to go for criminals. He knew his own experience wouldn't provide the answer. He placed himself as one of those steadfast fellows whose biggest problem in life had been whether to become a dentist, a businessman, or a lawyer. Now, he and his wife had five children, which made for a different relation than you were going to see in a courthouse corridor,
Still, the memory of that first time he laid eyes on Gilmore always gave flavor to what Gary said about Nicole. It provided Moody with a bit of sympathy for what others might have seen as an outlandish desire to reach the girl at all costs. So Moody had been going to some ends to bring it off.
When they got down the hall today, however, they were put in a room without a phone. Their plan was simply wiped out. Gary had to step into Court on a full head of frustration. Schiller could see that even his body was starting to tighten. He had begun to flick his eyes back and forth, and was almost reptilian. Looked like he was planning where to strike.
Gary whispered, "The Judge looks like Phil Silvers."
The Executioner's Song Page 73
