Two folding chairs were in the center of a small, windowless room. A desk and an office chair had been shoved to the wall. Keith sat and waited, jacket off, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up. It was a warm night for late March. The door latch snapped loudly and startled him. A guard walked in, followed by Hugh Malco, then another guard. Hugh’s eyes darted around. He was visibly rattled by Keith’s presence. He was handcuffed and ankle-chained and wore a white shirt and pants, which appeared to be well-ironed. The death outfit. Burial clothes. He would be hauled back to Biloxi and laid to rest in the family plot.
Keith did not stand but looked at the first guard and said, “Take off the handcuffs and chains.”
The guard balked as if asked to commit a crime. Keith snapped, “You want me to get the warden?”
Both guards removed the cuffs and chains and laid them on the desk. As one opened the door the other said, “We’re right outside.”
“I won’t need you.”
They left and Hugh sat in the empty folding chair. Their shoes were five feet apart. They stared at each other, neither blinking, neither willing to show the slightest uneasiness.
Hugh spoke first. “My lawyer said you’d be a witness. Didn’t expect you to drop by for a visit.”
“The governor sent me. He’s struggling with the clemency issue, needs some help. So he gave me his proxy. It’s my call.”
“Well, well. That should suit you just fine. Life and death hangs in the balance. You get to play God. The ultimate ruler.”
“Seems an odd time to start the insults.”
“Sorry. You remember the first time you called me a smart-ass?”
“Yes. Mrs. Davidson’s sixth-grade class. She heard me, marched me into the hall, gave me three licks for foul language, and you laughed about it for a week.”
Both managed a brief smile. A helicopter buzzed low, then went away.
Hugh said, “Quite a scene out there, huh?”
“Quite. Are you watching it?”
“Yep. Gotta small color unit in my cell, and because the guards are so swell around here they’re giving me some extra time on the last night of my life. Looks like I’ll go out in a blaze of glory.”
“Is that what you want?”
“No, I want to go home. As I understand things, the governor has four options. Clemency, no clemency, a reprieve, or a full pardon.”
“That’s the law.”
“So, I’ve been thinking about one of those full pardons.”
Keith was in no mood for levity or nostalgia. He glared at him and asked, “Why did you kill my father?”
Hugh took a deep breath, dropped the stare, and looked at the ceiling. After a long pause, he said, “It wasn’t supposed to happen like that, Keith, I swear. Sure we hired Taylor to bomb the office, but nobody was going to get hurt. It was a warning, an act of intimidation. Your father sent my father to prison, and Jesse was investigating the Dusty Cromwell killing. He was coming after us and we felt the heat. Bombing his office in the courthouse would be the ultimate warning. I swear we had no plans to hurt anyone.”
“I don’t believe that. I heard every word Henry Taylor and Nevin Noll said in court. I watched their eyes, their body language, everything, and there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that you and Nevin hired Taylor to kill my father. You’re still lying, Hugh.”
“I swear I’m not.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I swear, Keith.” The tough criminal facade cracked a little. He wasn’t pleading, but he sounded like a man telling the truth and desperately wanting for someone to believe him. Keith stared at him, neither blinked, and the first trace of moisture appeared in his eyes. They had not spoken to each other in years, and Keith was hit hard with the realization that perhaps things would be different if they had kept talking.