Mitch took his seat in front of the microphones that were scattered about the table. The crowd of newspaper and television reporters was larger than usual.
Carol’s introduction was simple and to the point, at Mitch’s request. “Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen. I would like to introduce you, to those of you who don’t know him, to Mr. Mitchell Patterson, author of the bestselling book, The Search for Timothy Walker. Mr. Patterson.”
“Thank you Carol. I want to thank all of you for coming today. The search for Timothy Walker itself was a trying time for us and for the nation as the country’s most wanted killer was on the loose for those months.” He took a drink of water from a glass, drinking in more than usual before continuing.
“Those of you who have read the book can see some of the work that went into the most extensive manhunt in police history. This could not have been possible without the support of state, local and federal law enforcement authorities. I wish to thank them for their help as well as to the various courts for providing me with trial and appeals transcripts to help give this book more insight. I’ll now open the floor to any questions you may have due to the limited time we have today and your six o’clock news deadlines.” The last comment brought laughter from the local television crews.
A man with glasses and wearing a tight fitting jacket raised his hand, “Jim Gallows from WKNY. How is the book tour going Mitch?”
“Very good, thank you. This is only my third book, but the sales have been through the roof and the reception here in New York has been phenomenal. But I can say that I am glad it’s over.” More laughter.
A petite woman with glasses in the third row raised her hand as she stood. “Roberta Coltart, from the National Book Review. Mr. Patterson, I must ask you, are you in favor of the death penalty? It’s sometimes hard to tell your opinion from reading your book.”
Mitch managed a terse smile, “That was intentional, Ms. Coltart. It is up to everybody to make up their own mind about how they feel about the death penalty. My opinion is inconsequential. Next please.” He pointed to a man in a fatigue jacket at the rear of the room.
“Pasquele Lawrence from HotWire Online Magazine—I’m a big fan and I must say I enjoyed this book better than your last one. I guess mainly because it was a true story. Will your future books be more nonfiction than fiction?”
Mitch laughed and said, “Well, I guess you’ll have to just have to keep watching the bookstores now won’t you. But I will say that I have finished another book that leans toward nonfiction.”
The persistent reporter from the National Book Review again stood without raising her hand asking, “Is there any significance to the fact that Walker is scheduled to be executed on the anniversary of your family’s murder in Florida? Is that the reason that your book tour was scheduled to end here on today’s date? And to have it happen on the day you are promoting your book in the biggest book market in the country is purely coincidental? Correct?”
His eyes zeroed in on her, but he remained calm and responded, “You are correct, Ms. Coltart, the timing is purely coincidental. Actually, I tried, for personal reasons, to have the book tour wrap up yesterday, so that I could be home in Florida today. However, unfortunately that did not happen. Next question please.” Mitch went to point to another woman in the third row.
Carol stood and quickly interjected, “One last question from the audience, please. It’s been a long day.” Scores of reporters waved their hands in the air to ask the final question but Ms. Coltart stood again and asked the final question “Mr. Patterson, do you believe the appeals process has gone on for too long for Mr. Walker, and do you believe that Timothy Walker should have been put to death years ago?”
Mitch turned square to face her. “Timothy Walker was tried multiple times by a jury of his peers for the murder of five individuals. He was found guilty and sentenced to death by that random group of jurors of his peers. Walker received thirty court and judicial reviews and retrials to make sure it was fair and just. In the meantime, after the sentence was handed down, he escaped from death row and while on the loose he was responsible for the premediated murder of two prison officers,” he paused to compose himself before continuing.
“In addition, Walker then blew up a house in Delray Beach Florida… and killed two innocent people who were inside. One of those was my wife Sandy, and my son Derek. He then went on to kill two elderly farmers in a remote Kansas location.” He stopped and leveled his gaze directly at her, leaned forward and said, “I will say that, if the execution had taken place when it was originally scheduled, all six of those innocent people would still be alive today. Is that clear enough, Ms. Coltart?”
“Yes, sir,” she said quietly while making notes in her notepad and slowly returned to her seat.
Carol quickly stood and said, “Thank you ladies and gentlemen and feel free to pick up your signed complimentary copy of Mr. Patterson’s latest book. Thank you for coming.”
Mitch grabbed his briefcase and turned to Carol, “We done?”
“Yeah. Go get a shave and some rest. You’ve had a long day, and we have an important night ahead of us so… just get some rest.”
“See you later. I’m goin’ to get a shower.” He kissed her on the cheek. “See ya.”
She watched him walk away, hanging his head down. I hope he stays sober.
That wasn’t so bad, Sari thought to herself. She knew now the company was in good hands, capable hands and if truth be told she was ready to move on.
She looked at the box of her cherished belongs, her writing and her pictures. Her books. She saw the picture of her and her daughter Anna together the year before she died. She gently touched the photo, and traced her finger around her dearest. So young to be taken so cruelly. She set the picture on her desk. She would never forget her.
She put the box on the floor and saw that Eva had tied a pink ribbon around her office nameplate, Sari Novak –CEO Teanna Tea Company. She saw the attached note—To the best boss ever. Thanks for everything—EVA. Nice touch girl, she thought. Yes, it was time for her to move on with her life.
She glanced at her computer and debated about adding a few more pages to her book. Instead, she toyed with the thought of opening the chilled bottle of chianti in the fridge but opted instead to head for the bath. She could not focus and glanced at her watch. Still hours to go. Maybe he’ll come home early? Maybe. The sun would be setting soon, and the air would cool and he would be home. She knew he would, she knew him.
Nate Hutchinson hung up the phone on the cradle and breathed a deep sigh.
“Is it over?” Agnes asked.
“Yes, the Supreme Court declined to intervene. The execution will take place as ordered.”
“There’s nothing else anybody can do?”
He didn’t answer her, his mind still reeling from the response. This can’t be the end. There must be something else I can do.
“Nate?” She asked gently. No response again. “Nate, darling? Maybe it’s time to give it up. You’ve done more than anybody can rightly expect you to do. Darling, nobody can help that man now. It’s over.”
He sat in silence, staring out into the back yard, the sun setting and the light growing dim.
She touched him gently on the shoulder. “Nate, it’s over. The courts, the governor, and the people have all spoken and they have said…”
“What’d you just say?” he asked as his head snapped around to look at her.
“I said it’s over, darling.”
“No, after that—the governor. Right?”
“But Nate you have already been down that path and you made your appeals to the governor before… and he turned you down, remember?”
“Yes, but that was on a compassionate ruling for him to go visit his dying mother. That was denied.” Panicked he looked around the room. “Where’s my damn cell phone?” He stood searching the kitchen until he spied it on the counter, plugged in, recharging. He unplugged it, brought up his contact list, and punched in the governor’s private cell phone number. It rang four times before someone answered it.
“Hello,” said a female voice. “Governor Richards’ office.”
“Governor Richards please. This is Nathaniel Hutchinson, attorney for the condemned prisoner, Timothy Walker. It is imperative that I speak with the governor, now, please.”
He heard the voice say on the other end of the line, “Hold on. sir. I will forward your call to the governor. Wait just a moment.” He heard static on the line and then it went dead.
“Damn, I got cut off,” he said with obvious mounting irritation. He went to dial the phone number but his phone rang, “Hello?”
“Yes, I was looking for Nathaniel Hutchinson.”
“This is Nate Hutchinson.”
“This is Governor Richards; you tried to call me? What can I do for you, counselor?”
“Thank you for calling me back, Governor. I just learned that our appeal to the Supreme Court was denied. I would like to ask, no beg you that the execution be delayed by at least a day for us to re-file with the court.”
“Do you have new evidence or can you cite any case law that would have a bearing on this case, Mr. Hutchinson?”
“No, governor I do not. I am just asking that his case be reviewed one final time. I don’t need to remind you, sir, that a man’s life hangs in the balance.”
“Your appeals have been duly heard, sir, by every court in this great state and by the appeals court and now rejected by the highest court in the land. And now you’re asking me to intervene in delaying justice for those wronged by Mr. Walker? Under what circumstances?”
Nate took a deep breath. He knew he was reaching, but he would do anything to try to save the life of his client if even only just for a day. One day was a lifetime to some people. “Well sir, today is the anniversary of the killing death of Mitch Patterson’s family that my client was tried and convicted for, and I am sure that you do not want this execution to be interpreted as tit-for-tat revenge execution, now do you, Governor?”
There was silence on the other end.
“Governor?”
“Sir, I appreciate your perseverance and persistence in extending the time for your client, but sir, I am not going to delay justice for the families of his victims for one more precious moment. I am sorry that is not what you want to hear, sir, but it is time for justice to be served. Good night.” He hung up the phone.
He had lost. There was nothing else to be done.
“Nate?” Agnes asked her husband.
“He said ‘no.’ Agnes he won’t delay the execution.”
He picked up the phone and dialed the hotline to D-Block. When he heard Walker’s voice he said, “Mr. Walker… Tim, I’m sorry but both the Supreme Court and the governor decline to give you a stay of execution. I’m so sorry.” Walker hung up without saying another word.
Agnes joined her husband in the study.
He took in a deep breath and said, “Agnes darlin’, pour me a glass of Jim Beam will you dear? Make it a double. Use the good stuff from the china cabinet in the dining room. I guess it’s time to say goodbye and put it to rest.”
“Sure, dear. Mind if I join you?” she knew then it was over and the relief was obvious in her voice.
“Of course, darlin’,” he responded, managing a small grin finally relaxing and stretching out his tall frame, kicking off his shoes while crossing his legs together at his ankles. He undid his suspenders and relaxed. Now all he could is wait, just like everyone else.
Agnes knew their life was finally going to return to normal when he asked for a drink of the “good stuff” stored in the dining room cabinet. She smiled to herself. From the other room she heard the sound of the sofa whoosh as he stood and then heard voices from the television. Newscasts.
She was glad it was over at last as she brought the glasses from the dining room. When she turned the corner, she screamed at what she saw on the floor and dropped both whiskey glasses to the old tile floor and screamed again.