but his son's girlfriend was the young woman that my client, Willie Miller, was convicted of murdering years ago. Even though my father prosecuted the case originally, I until now was not aware that he knew Victor Markham as a younger man. It is a strange thing for him not to have mentioned.
It is the Miller case that finally draws me away from the house. I put the picture in my pocket and leave. I have to go out to the prison this afternoon and see my client, to keep him up-to-date about what is going on. He's the one who very well might receive the lethal injection, so I think he has a right to know.
After driving Tara home, I head out to the prison, which is about twenty-five minutes from Paterson, near Newark Airport. It seems a sadistic placement, as the prisoners must constantly listen to those living in freedom literally soaring off into the sky. It must make their cagelike existence seem that much more confining. On the other hand, they never have to eat airline food.
Visiting death row is something I don't think I'll ever get used to, and I don't recommend it at all. The first thing I notice about it, the first thing I always notice about it, is that it is so clean. It's ironic. The people housed here are deemed the filth of society, not even worthy of life, yet their “house” is kept clean with a zeal unmatched this side of Disneyland.
The place seems entirely gray, as if I am looking at it through black and white eyes. The stench of hopelessness is everywhere; it feels like the animal shelter in which I found Tara. Everybody in cages, just waiting until it's time to die, knowing no one is coming to set them free.
I go through the process of checking in and wait until the guard, Danny, comes to bring me to the cell block. Danny and I are by now familiar with each other, and I am struck by his ability to maintain a sense of humor in these surroundings. He's not Jerry Seinfeld, but he's okay.
We walk down a corridor flanked by cells on both sides, just like you see in the movies, and the prisoners call out taunting comments about the legal profession in general and myself in particular. None of it is flattering, some is positively brutal.
Danny is amused by it. “They're getting to know you pretty well.”
I just nod and walk faster; I'm not in the mood for banter.
I'm finally brought to Willie Miller's cell, the small iron box where he has spent the last seven years. He is heavily muscled and keeps himself in outstanding shape by working out. I don't have the discipline to exercise even though I know it will help me lead a longer, healthier life. Willie's about to be put to death and he never misses a day.
Willie never acknowledges my arrival until I'm inside the cell, and this time is no exception. I'm waiting for Danny to open the door, but instead he pulls over a metal chair and positions it outside the cell.
I'm puzzled, so I give him my puzzled look. He explains, “No direct contact with visitors during the last two months.” He's referring to the time left in Willie's life, and on Willie's behalf I'm thoroughly irritated.
“I've been frisked and put through a metal detector. You afraid I'm going to slip him my teeth so he can bite through the bars?”
“Rules are rules, Andy.”
I can tell that he feels bad, and I feel bad for making him feel bad. But I keep going, 'cause Willie feels worst of all.
“Are you sure? Rules are rules?”
“That's right.”
“Have you got a pen? Because I want to write that down. ‘Rules are rules,’ ” I repeat. “What a great line. Is it okay if I use it at cocktail parties?”
He's not in the mood for my bullshit. “Call out if you need me,” he says, and then walks away.
I turn to Willie, who is on his cot all the way across the length of his home, which means he's eight feet away from me. “How are you doing today, Willie?” It is an innocent question, but it presses a button.
He stands up and walks toward me, challenging. For a brief second, I'm glad Danny didn't let me in the cell.
“What the hell is the difference? You think next year anybody is going to say, ‘Boy, I wonder how Willie felt fifty-seven