At 5:40, the U.S. Supreme1 Court, by a vote of 5-4, refused to hear Donte's insanity2 petition. Ten minutes later, the Court, again 5-4, denied cert on the Boyette petition. Robbie took the calls outside the holding cell. He closed his phone, walked inside to Warden3 Jeter, and whispered, "It's over. No more appeals."
Jeter nodded grimly and said, "You got two minutes."
"Thanks." Robbie reentered the holding cell and broke the news to Donte. There was nothing else to do, the fight was over. Donte closed his eyes and breathed deeply as the reality set in. Until that moment there had always been hope, however distant, however remote and unlikely.
Then he swallowed hard, managed a smile, and inched closer to Robbie. Their knees were touching4, their heads just inches apart. "Say, Robbie, you think they'll ever catch the dude who killed Nicole?"
Again, Robbie wanted to tell him about Boyette, but that story was far from over. The truth was anything but certain. "I don't know, Donte, I can't predict. Why?"
"Here's what you gotta do, Robbie. If they never find the guy, then folks will always believe it was me. But if they find him, then you gotta promise me you'll clear my name. Will you promise me, Robbie? I don't care how long it takes, but you gotta clear my name."
"I'll do that, Donte."
"I got this vision that one day my momma and my brothers and sister will stand beside my grave and celebrate because I'm an innocent man. Won't that be great, Robbie?"
"I'll be there too, Donte."
"Throw a big party, right there in the cemetery5. Invite all my friends, raise all sorts of hell, let the world know that Donte is innocent. Will you do that, Robbie?"
"You have my word."
"That'll be great."
Robbie slowly took both of Donte's hands and squeezed them in his. "I gotta go, big man. I don't know what to say, except that it's been an honor being your lawyer. I have believed you from the very beginning, and I believe you even more today. I've always known you are innocent, and I hate the sons of bitches who are making this happen. I'll keep fighting, Donte. I promise."
Their foreheads touched. Donte said, "Thank you, Robbie, for everything. I'll be all right."
"I'll never forget you."
"Take care of my momma, okay, Robbie?"
"You know I will."
They stood and embraced, a long painful hug that neither wanted to end. Ben Jeter was by the door, waiting. Robbie finally left the holding cell and walked to the end of the short hallway where Keith sat in a folding chair, praying fervently7. Robbie sat down beside him and began weeping.
Ben Jeter asked Donte for the last time if he wanted to see the chaplain. He did not. The hallway began to fill with uniformed guards, large healthy boys with stern faces and thick arms. The beef had arrived, just in case the inmate8 had second thoughts about going peacefully to the death chamber9. There was a flurry of activity, and the place was filled with people.
Jeter approached Robbie and said, "Let's go." Robbie slowly got to his feet and took a step before he stopped and looked down at Keith. "Come on, Keith," he said.
Keith looked up blankly, not sure where he was, certain that his little nightmare would end soon and he'd wake up in bed with Dana. "What?"
Robbie grabbed an arm and yanked hard. "Come on. It's time to witness the execution."
"But--"
"The warden gave his approval." Another hard pull. "You're the spiritual adviser10 to the condemned11 man, thus, you qualify as a witness."
"I don't think so, Robbie. No, look, I'll just wait--"
Several of the guards were amused by the altercation12. Keith was aware of their smirks13, but didn't care.
"Come on," Robbie said, now dragging the minister. "Do it for Donte. Hell, do it for me. You live in Kansas, a death-penalty state. Come watch a little democracy in action."
Keith was moving, and everything was a blur14. They walked by the columns of guards, past the holding cell where Donte, eyes down, was being handcuffed again, to a narrow unmarked door Keith had not noticed before. It opened and closed behind them. They were in a small boxlike room with dim lights. Robbie finally turned loose of him, then walked over and hugged the Drumm family. "No more appeals," he said softly. "There's nothing left to do."
It would be the longest ten minutes in Gill Newton's lengthy15 career in public service. From 5:50 until 6:00 p.m., he vacillated as never before. On one side, literally16 on one side of his office, Wayne pushed harder and harder for a thirty-day reprieve17. He argued that the execution could be delayed for thirty days, and thirty days only, while the dust settled and the claims of this Boyette clown could be investigated. If he was telling the truth, and the body could be found, then the governor would be a hero. If he turned out to be a flake18, as they strongly suspected, then Drumm would live another thirty days and then get the needle. There was no long-term harm, politically. The only permanent damage would occur if they ignored Boyette, executed Drumm, then found the body exactly where Boyette took them. That would be fatal, and not just for Drumm.
The mood was so tense that they were ignoring the bourbon.
On the other side, Barry argued that any form of retreat would be nothing but a show of weakness, especially in light of the governor's performance before the mob less than three hours earlier. Executions, especially high-profile ones, attract all sorts of attention seekers, and this guy Boyette was a perfect example. He was obviously looking for the spotlight19, his fifteen minutes onstage, and to allow him to derail a proper execution was wrong from a judicial20 point of view, and even more so from a political one. Drumm confessed to the murder, Barry said over and over. Don't let some serial21 pervert22 cloud the truth. It was a fair trial! The appeals courts, all of them, had affirmed the conviction!
Play it safe, Wayne countered. Just thirty days, maybe we'll learn something new about the case.
But it's been nine years, Barry retorted. Enough is enough.
"Are there any reporters outside?" Newton asked.
"Sure," Barry said. "They have been hanging around all day."
"Line 'em up."
The final walk was a short one, some thirty feet from the holding cell to the death chamber, the entire pathway lined with guards, some of whom watched from the corners of their eyes to see the dead man's face, others stared at the floor as if they were sentries23 guarding a lonely gate. One of three faces could be expected from the condemned man. The most common was a hard frown with wide eyes, a look of fear and disbelief. The second most common was a passive surrender, eyes half-open, as if the chemicals were already at work. The third and least common was the angry look of a man who'd kill every guard in sight if he had a gun. Donte Drumm did not resist; that rarely happens. With a guard holding each elbow, he marched on, his face calm, his eyes on the floor. He refused to allow his captors to see the fear he felt, nor did he wish to acknowledge them in any way.
For such a notorious room, the Texas death chamber is remarkably24 small, a near-square box twelve feet long and wide, with a low ceiling and a permanent metal bed in the center, adorned25 in clean white sheets for each occasion. The bed fills the room.
Donte could not believe how cramped26 it was. He sat on the edge of the bed, and four guards quickly took over. They swung his legs around, stretched them out, then methodically secured his body with five thick leather straps27, one around his chest, midsection, groin, thighs28, and calves29. His arms were placed on extensions 45 degrees from his body and secured with more leather straps. As they prepped him, he closed his eyes, listened to and felt the urgent business about him. There were grunts30 and a few words, but these men knew their tasks. This was the last stop on the system's assembly line, and the workers were well experienced.
When all the straps were tightened31, the guards retreated. A medical technician who smelled of antiseptic hovered32 and said, "I'm going to poke33 and find a vein34, left arm first, then the right. You understand?"
"Be my guest," Donte said and opened his eyes. The technician was rubbing his arm with alcohol. To prevent infection? How thoughtful. Behind him was a darkened window, and below it was an opening from which two ominous35 tubes ran toward the bed. The warden was to his right, watching it all carefully, very much in charge. Behind the warden were two identical windows--the witness rooms--sealed off by curtains. If he'd been so inclined, and were it not for all the damned leather straps, Donte could've reached out and touched the nearest window.
The tubes were in place, one in each arm, though only one would be used. The second one was a backup, just in case.
At 5:59, Governor Gill Newton hurriedly stepped in front of three cameras outside of his office and, without notes, said, "My denial of a reprieve still stands. Donte Drumm confessed to this atrocious crime and must pay the ultimate price. He received a fair trial eight years ago, by a jury of his peers, and his case has been reviewed by five different courts, dozens of judges, and all have confirmed his conviction. His claim of innocence36 is not believable, nor is this last-minute sensational37 effort by his attorneys to produce a new killer38. The judicial system of Texas cannot be hijacked39 by some criminal looking for attention and a desperate lawyer who will say anything. God bless Texas."
He refused to answer questions and returned to his office.
When the curtains were suddenly opened, Roberta Drumm nearly collapsed40 at the sight of her youngest son strapped41 tightly to the bed with tubes running from both arms. She gasped42, covered her mouth with both hands, and had Cedric and Marvin not braced6 her, she would have been on the floor. The shock hit all of them. They squeezed tighter together, and Robbie joined the huddle43, adding support.
Keith was too stricken to move. He stood a few feet away. Some strangers were behind him, witnesses who had entered at some point, Keith wasn't sure when. They inched forward straining for a view. It was Thursday, the second one in November, and at that moment the Ladies' Bible Class was meeting in the vestry of St. Mark's Lutheran for the continuation of their study of the Gospel of Luke, to be followed by a pasta dinner in the kitchen. Keith, Dana, and the boys were always invited to the dinner and usually attended. He really missed his church, and his family, and he wasn't sure why he was having such thoughts as he stared at the very dark head of Donte Drumm. It contrasted sharply with the white shirt he was wearing and the snow-white sheets around him. The leather straps were light brown. Roberta sobbed44 loudly and Robbie was mumbling45 and the unknown witnesses behind him were pressing for a better view, and Keith wanted to scream. He was tired of praying, and his prayers weren't working anyway.
Keith asked himself if he would feel differently if Donte was guilty. He didn't think so. Guilt46 would certainly take away some of the sympathy for the kid, but as he watched the preliminaries unfold, he was struck by the coldness, the ruthless efficiency, the sanitized neatness of it. It was similar to killing47 an old dog, a lame48 horse, or a laboratory rat. Who, exactly, gives us the right to kill? If killing is wrong, then why are we allowed to kill? As Keith stared at Donte, he knew the image would never go away. And he knew that he would never be the same.
Robbie stared at Donte too, at the right side of his face, and thought of all the things he would have changed. In every trial, the lawyer makes a dozen snap decisions, and Robbie had relived them all. He would have hired a different expert, called different witnesses, toned down his attitude toward the judge, been nicer to the jury. He would always blame himself, though no one else did. He had failed to save an innocent man, and that burden was too heavy. A big piece of his life was about to perish also, and he doubted he would ever be the same.
Next door, Reeva wept at the sight of her daughter's killer flat on his back, helpless, hopeless, waiting to take his last breath and go on to hell. His death--quick and rather pleasant--was nothing compared to Nicole's, and Reeva wanted more suffering and pain than she was about to witness. Wallis boosted her with an arm around her shoulder. She was held by her two children. Nicole's biological father was not there, and Reeva would never let him forget it.
Donte turned hard to his right, and his mother finally came into focus. He smiled, gave a thumbs-up, then turned back and closed his eyes.
At 6:01, Warden Jeter stepped to a table and picked up a phone, a direct line to the attorney general's office in Austin. He was informed that all appeals were final; there was no reason to stop the execution. He replaced the receiver, then picked up another one, identical to the first. It was a direct line to the governor's office. The message was the same, green lights all around. At 6:06, he stepped to the bed and said, "Mr. Drumm, would you like to make a final statement?"
Donte said, "Yes."
The warden reached toward the ceiling, grabbed a small microphone, and pulled it to within twelve inches of Donte's face. "Go ahead," he said. Wires ran to a small speaker in each witness room.
Donte cleared his throat, stared at the microphone, and said, "I love my mother and my father and I'm so sad my dad died before I could say good-bye. The State of Texas would not allow me to attend his funeral. To Cedric, Marvin, and Andrea, I love ya'll and I'll see you down the road. I'm sorry I've put you through all this, but it wasn't my fault. To Robbie, I love you, man. You're the greatest. To the family of Nicole Yarber, I'm sorry about what happened to her. She was a sweet girl, and I hope someday they find the man who killed her. Then I guess you all will have to be here and do this again."
He paused, closed his eyes, then yelled, "I am an innocent man! I've been persecuted49 for nine years by the State of Texas for a crime I didn't do! I never touched Nicole Yarber and I don't know who killed her." He took a breath, opened his eyes, and went on. "To Detective Drew Kerber, Paul Koffee, Judge Grale, all those bigots on the jury, all those blind mice on the appeals courts, and to Governor Newton, your day of judgment50 is coming. When they find the real killer, I'll be there to haunt you."
He turned and looked at his mother. "Good-bye, Momma. Love you."
After a few seconds of silence, Ben Jeter pushed the microphone toward the ceiling. He took a step backward and nodded at the faceless chemist who hid behind the black window to the left of the bed. The injection began--three different doses given in quick succession. Each of the three was lethal51 enough if used alone. The first was sodium52 thiopental, a powerful sedative53. Donte closed his eyes, never to reopen them. Two minutes later, a dose of pancuronium bromide, a muscle relaxer, stopped his breathing. Third was a shot of potassium chloride that stopped his heart.
With all the leather strapping54, it was difficult to tell when Donte's breathing stopped. But stop it did. At 6:19, the medical technician appeared and prodded55 the corpse56 with a stethoscope. He nodded at the warden, who announced at 6:21 that Donte Drumm was dead.
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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insanity
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| n.疯狂，精神错乱；极端的愚蠢，荒唐 | |
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warden
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| n.监察员，监狱长，看守人，监护人 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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cemetery
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| n.坟墓，墓地，坟场 | |
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braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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inmate
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| n.被收容者；(房屋等的)居住人；住院人 | |
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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adviser
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| n.劝告者，顾问 | |
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condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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altercation
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| n.争吵，争论 | |
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smirks
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| n.傻笑，得意的笑( smirk的名词复数 )v.傻笑( smirk的第三人称单数 ) | |
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blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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lengthy
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| adj.漫长的，冗长的 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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reprieve
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| n.暂缓执行（死刑）；v.缓期执行；给…带来缓解 | |
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flake
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| v.使成薄片；雪片般落下；n.薄片 | |
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spotlight
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| n.公众注意的中心，聚光灯，探照灯，视听，注意，醒目 | |
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judicial
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| adj.司法的，法庭的，审判的，明断的，公正的 | |
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serial
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| n.连本影片，连本电视节目；adj.连续的 | |
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pervert
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| n.堕落者，反常者；vt.误用，滥用；使人堕落，使入邪路 | |
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sentries
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| 哨兵，步兵( sentry的名词复数 ) | |
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remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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cramped
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| a.狭窄的 | |
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straps
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| n.带子( strap的名词复数 )；挎带；肩带；背带v.用皮带捆扎( strap的第三人称单数 )；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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tightened
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| 收紧( tighten的过去式和过去分词 )； （使）变紧； （使）绷紧； 加紧 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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killer
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| n.杀人者，杀人犯，杀手，屠杀者 | |
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hijacked
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| 劫持( hijack的过去式和过去分词 )； 绑架； 拦路抢劫； 操纵（会议等，以推销自己的意图） | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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strapped
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| adj.用皮带捆住的，用皮带装饰的；身无分文的；缺钱；手头紧v.用皮带捆扎(strap的过去式和过去分词)；用皮带抽打；包扎；给…打绷带 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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huddle
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| vi.挤作一团；蜷缩；vt.聚集；n.挤在一起的人 | |
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sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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mumbling
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的现在分词 ) | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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48
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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51
lethal
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| adj.致死的；毁灭性的 | |
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sodium
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| n.（化）钠 | |
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sedative
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| adj.使安静的，使镇静的；n. 镇静剂，能使安静的东西 | |
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54
strapping
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| adj. 魁伟的, 身材高大健壮的 n. 皮绳或皮带的材料, 裹伤胶带, 皮鞭 动词strap的现在分词形式 | |
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prodded
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| v.刺，戳( prod的过去式和过去分词 )；刺激；促使；（用手指或尖物）戳 | |
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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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