“No. I’d slap a fine on most people, try to talk some sense to them.They didn’t take umbrage the way they might have with a white officer. I was just Black man, harping on about pets—a loony, as far as they were concerned. They knew the score. I wasn’t a threat.”
“Was Mitchell?”
“Of course not. He was anexcuse. Not a threat.”
“Tell me about that day at the courthouse, if you don’t mind.”
“Always wondered if someone would figure it out.”
“Figure out what, exactly?”
He watched the line, tugged at it experimentally.
“You going to subpoena me?”
“Probably not,” she said. “In the rare cases we can get the governor to call off an execution, the state likes to settle behind closed doors. No one likes egg on their face. They look for a way to make it all go away.”
“You think you can get our governor to call it off?”
She didn’t lie. “No. But maybe there’s another way.”
“It’s not the governor I’m worried about.”
“The district attorney? Jerrod Tinsley?”
“Maybe. How long before your guy dies?”
“Nine days. That includes today and the day of execution.”
She had spent that day in a rush, tracking down the other officers from the dockets. You never knew, she often told herself: Many times it was the witness she didn’t expect to who delivered. But none of them were helpful. Some were downright rude. The officers who had interrogated Mitchell had refused to speak to her.
“What time is he slated for?”
“Morning.”
“So you don’t really got nine days.”
She smiled. “Thanks for reminding me.”
He thought for a bit, wiping a bug off his check. The line trembled just a bit, and he tugged at it gently.
“Just some little fish,” he said, scornfully.
“Was it in the conference room?” she asked.
“Yeah. I went there after I testified, while the jury was deliberating. Bad animal neglect case. You ever smell a bunch of dead ferrets? Well, you don’t wanna. I remember sitting in there, the case so bright in my mind I could smell those animals then, and I can now. The lady on trial, she put those critters in cages and watched them starve. She could have fed them but didn’t—that’s what got me then and gets me now. I doubt they ever got that smell out of the walls. It was getting late—if the jury didn’t come back soon, I was sure my case would adjourn for the day. As a matter of fact, I was getting ready to head back down that elevator and go check in the courtroom. That’s when I heard voices, and that district attorney came in.”
The line trembled.
“Tinsley?”
“Yup. He had a man with him. In my work, I met mostly the beat cops, including those two fuckers that beat Mitchell up. I remember seeing your client being dragged to court. The bruises had healed by then, but I could tell by the look in his eye what they had done—and by the look in their eyes, too. Smug pricks. This guy with the DA wasn’t a cop. He was a fellow I’d never seen before. He was wearing a courthouse security uniform, but something about it just didn’t seem right to me. I remember that. Anyhow, Tinsley saw me sitting there, and told me to shove off. He didn’t say it in those words, but close. His eyes went right to those exhibit boxes. I knew. I knew in that moment what he was planning to do.”
“How did you know?”
“You ever been a district attorney?”
“No.”
