The Last Mile

by David Baldacci

  “Not a gun. It was more like a long cut.”

  “So a knife?”

  “Yeah, that’s what I think. Look, I know it’s not much.”

  “Well, it’s more than we had, Melvin. We just have to figure out what it means.”

  CHAPTER

  22

  THURSDAY AT 5:30 p.m.

  Charles Montgomery had a half hour left to live.

  He had eaten his last meal from a vending machine.

  A barbecue sandwich and a can of Coke.

  His stomach would not have to digest the meal.

  Bogart, Decker, and Mars were sitting in the front row of one of the viewing rooms. Jamison had elected not to come. Davenport was immediately behind Decker in the second row. There were three other people in the room. Two were journalists and one was with the Alabama State Bar. None of the families of the victims had come except for Mars.

  The journalists had recognized Mars and had tried to interview him, but Bogart had flashed his badge and quickly put a stop to that.

  The curtains were pulled so that the death chamber was not currently visible. In an adjacent room the family of the condemned was allowed to sit. The curtains were also closed there, so they didn’t know if Regina Montgomery was here or not.

  Mars was looking nervous and there were beads of sweat on his face although the room was cool.

  Decker noted this and put a large hand on the other man’s shoulder. “You gonna hold it together? Or you want to get out of here?”

  Mars bent over and took several deep breaths. “I was just thinking how close I came to this.”

  Decker removed his hand. “But it’s not you, Melvin. It’s the other guy. But we can leave if you want.”

  Mars straightened. “No, I’m good.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah.”

  Bogart leaned over and said, “They’re coming.”

  A dozen correctional officers surrounded Montgomery as he left the holding cell where he had been brought the previous Tuesday. They were led to the death chamber by a pastor holding a Bible and saying a prayer. A hymn was being played over the sound system.

  The gurney had been removed from the chamber and the electric chair had been brought out of storage. Nicknamed “Yellow Mama,” because its color came from the yellow paint used on highway lines, it had been built by a British inmate in the 1920s. It was massive and sturdy-looking.

  His head bowed, the pastor peeled away and went to the viewing area where Decker and the others were. He took his seat at the end of the row and began reading his Bible.

  The correctional officers escorted Montgomery into the chamber. Then the curtains were opened so that Montgomery could see into the visitor rooms.

  Decker and the others now saw that Regina Montgomery was indeed in attendance. Her son was not with her.

  Montgomery’s gaze lingered on his wife for a few moments but no words were said or even mouthed between them. Finally, Regina looked away.

  The warden read the death warrant out loud and Montgomery was asked if he wanted to say any last words.

  He looked at his wife again. He started to say something, then shook his head and looked away from her. Then his gaze found and settled on Melvin Mars. The two men stared at each other for a long, torturous moment.

  Montgomery again looked away without saying anything. His expression wasn’t one of remorse; to Decker it looked more like one of disgust.

  The warden went into another adjacent room where there was a man on the phone. This was to make sure that there was no last-minute reprieve of the death sentence from the governor.

  There wasn’t, and the warden gave the appropriate signal.

  Ten of the officers left the room, passing by the warden as he returned to the death chamber. The two remaining officers readied Montgomery by taking off his handcuffs and leg chains, placing him in the chair, and strapping down his arms, legs, and head to the wood of Yellow Mama.

  The metal helmet connected to the electrodes was placed on his head and then a hood was placed over that. There were also electrodes attached to his arms and legs. The power supply to the chair was plugged in.

  The warden went into the generator room, where he engaged the equipment by pulling on several levers.

  Mars gripped the armrest of his chair and his breaths grew ragged.

  Decker put an arm around Mars’s shoulders. “Almost over,” he murmured. He glanced over at Regina Montgomery. She was looking down at the floor.

  Decker looked back at Montgomery. He couldn’t see the man’s face because of the hood, but his entire body was tensed against the yellow wood. He looked like a figure carved in stone on its throne.

  One of the officers picked up a sign that read Ready and held it against the glass window leading into the generator room.

  The two officers left the chamber and they all heard the door slam.

  One of the officers gave the requisite signal by knocking twice on the door. The warden immediately sent the first of two power surges to the chair, eight amps and 1,850 volts, that lasted thirty-four seconds each.

  Decker watched as Montgomery slammed back against the chair as the current hit him like a tank round. He lashed against the restraints. An electrode tore away from his leg as he thrashed. Smoke started to rise off his head. The smell of charred flesh permeated the viewing room.

  There was a scream and they looked over in time to see Regina Montgomery faint and topple out of her chair to the floor. Footsteps were heard as prison personnel rushed to aid her.

  The second surge of current hit Montgomery and he started to shake uncontrollably. They heard him scream, gasp, scream again, and then he fell forward, kept in the chair solely by the restraints.

  The smell of burned flesh became even stronger; it seemed to be driven right into their pores.

  As they watched, a small flickering flame rose from the cloth hood before dying out, along with the occupant of the chair.

  “Oh my God,” hissed Davenport. She jumped up and rushed from the room. They could hear her being sick outside in the hall.

  Next came the sound of the generator providing the electricity powering down and growing silent.

  The curtains were drawn and the image of the dead man, smoke still rising off him, was gone. They heard more rushing feet and then the sounds of a fire extinguisher being deployed.

  It was over.

  CHAPTER

  23

  THAT WAS THE longest few minutes of my life,” said Davenport, who still looked gray and nauseous.

  They were sitting around a table in the lobby of the hotel where they were staying near the prison.

  Decker shot her a glance. “Imagine how it was for Montgomery.”

  She looked at him and turned a bit pink in the face. “I know. I didn’t mean it that way. It was just…horrible.”

  Although Jamison hadn’t attended, she seemed as distraught and subdued as the others. “Did they confirm he was actually dead?”

  Bogart nodded wearily. “By law they have to. The doctor came in and did his tests. Montgomery was pronounced dead at five minutes past the hour. Regina Montgomery was revived and checked out by a doctor at the prison. Then a state trooper drove her home.”

  Decker turned to Mars, who hadn’t said a word since they had left the prison. He looked like he had no idea where he was.

  “You okay?” Decker asked.

  Mars shook his head. “Dude was on fire,” he said dully.

  “That’s why they don’t use the chair anymore,” said Decker. “Too many things can go wrong. I think the state of Alabama should stop giving the condemned a choice.”

  Davenport said fiercely, “Or better yet, just abolish capital punishment.” She looked at Mars. “They came close to executing you, an innocent man. That’s reason enough just to do away with it. There are no second chances.”

  Mars nodded curtly and looked away.

  Bogart said, “Well, that’s way above my pay grade and not a
n argument we’re going to settle tonight. I think we all need to get some sleep and then regroup tomorrow.” He looked at Decker. “What else did you want to do while we’re here?”

  “Talk to Regina Montgomery again. We need to find out where the money came from.”

  “She’s not going to willingly tell us anything,” pointed out Jamison. “She almost kicked us out last time.”

  “But she might slip up, or by not telling us something she might just answer our questions.”

  Bogart rose. “Well, again, nothing else is going to happen tonight. So let’s just call it an early evening. I don’t think I’m good for anything else. Witnessing an execution leaves you utterly drained, at least it does me.”

  Bogart headed off and a still shaky Davenport followed.

  As Jamison was about to leave, Decker snagged her by the arm.

  “Hold up, Alex.”

  “What is it?”

  Decker looked first at her and then at Mars. “You two up to going somewhere? Right now? Because I don’t think that we should wait.”

  * * *

  They knocked for a long time, and only when it was clear that they weren’t going to leave did Regina Montgomery answer the door. She stood there defiantly in the doorway still dressed in the clothes she had worn to the execution.

  “What do you want?” she snapped.

  Decker said, “We just had some questions for you.”

  “My husband was executed tonight. Can’t you leave me in peace!” she added shrilly.

  “I can understand how you feel, Mrs. Montgomery, but I wouldn’t be here unless I thought it really important. Can we come in? It won’t take more than a few minutes.”

  She looked at Jamison, and then her gaze fell on Mars and her face twisted in disgust.

  “What, you mean him too?”

  “Him especially,” said Decker. “He’s—”

  “I know who the hell he is! I just…I mean I don’t have…”

  Decker said, “It’ll only be a few minutes. And since this pertains to Mr. Mars, he needs to be included. Please, Mrs. Montgomery.”

  Jamison stepped forward and took the woman by the hand. “Let’s just go in and sit. Have you had anything to eat? Maybe a cup of tea to help settle your nerves? I can only imagine what you’ve had to deal with today. I’m so sorry.”

  “I…that would be…I can’t eat anything, but some hot tea. Yes.”

  “Just show me where and I’ll fix it right up.”

  Jamison smoothly steered Montgomery inside while Decker and Mars followed. When Jamison turned around, Decker shot her an appreciative look.

  After Regina Montgomery showed Jamison where things were in the kitchen, she and Mars settled around a coffee table in the small, cluttered living room. Back in the kitchen Jamison put a kettle on the cooktop to heat up the water. Then she found a cup and a box of tea bags. While the water was heating she rejoined them.

  When she sat down across from Montgomery, Jamison’s gaze flitted over Montgomery and held briefly on her wrist. She looked surprised.

  Montgomery was staring at Decker. “Well?” she said crossly.

  “Is your son here?” asked Decker.

  “No,” she said sharply. “He’s staying at a friend’s. I thought it best. No reason for him to have to deal with…this.”

  “That was a good idea.”

  She glanced at Mars sitting next to Decker and her mouth curved into a frown.

  Mars stared right back at her. He seemed about to say something when Decker spoke.

  “Tommy told us about the insurance money.”

  She was startled by this. “What? When did you—how did you know where he was?”

  “Howling Cougars,” said Decker, pointing to the photo on the table across from them.

  “Well, so what? Chuck had life insurance. I’m the beneficiary. Nothing wrong with that.”

  “For thirty thousand dollars?”

  She jerked again. “Who told you that?” she demanded.

  “We’re the FBI, Mrs. Montgomery, we can find out things.”

  The teakettle whistle blew. Jamison rose and went into the kitchen to prepare the tea. She poured it into a cup and then, looking around for some crackers, pulled aside a curtain covering a small niche in the kitchen. What she saw inside made her start. She snagged a box of crackers and some peanut butter off a shelf, and walked back over to the sink.

  “Hey, Decker?” she called out. “Can you give me a hand? I know Mrs. Montgomery doesn’t need us to be here any longer than necessary.”

  A bit put out by her request, Decker rose and went into the kitchen. While Jamison was spreading peanut butter over the crackers she jerked her head toward the open curtain. “Check that out,” she said quietly.

  Decker turned, saw what was there, and glanced quickly at Jamison, who hiked her eyebrows. “And there’s something else I saw,” she said.

  A minute later they came back into the room, Jamison with the tea and Decker with the plate of peanut butter crackers. They placed them in front of Montgomery, who was staring stonily at Mars.

  “Thank you,” she said. She took a sip of the tea and nibbled at a cracker, her gaze now downcast.

  While Montgomery was doing that, Jamison glanced around the room and her gaze fixed on a coat tree by the front door. This time she didn’t look surprised.

  Montgomery put her teacup down. “Why do you care about the insurance money?”

  Decker said, “Tommy also said that you were planning to move from here to wherever he ended up going to college. That you were going to buy a place and not have to work.”

  Montgomery didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then she waved her hand dismissively. “He’s just a kid. He doesn’t know what he’s saying. I am planning to move to where he goes to college. But I’ll have to work. And I sure as hell won’t be buying a house. Thirty thousand dollars isn’t enough for me to stay home and twiddle my thumbs.”

  “So you will have to work?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? Yes, I’ll have to work. Do I look rich to you? I’ve been working my ass off all my life. Work till I drop, unless Tommy makes it to the NFL, and then he can take care of me.”

  Mars said, “I wouldn’t bank on that. It’s like a one-in-a-million chance.”

  She eyed him. “You played football, so I heard.”

  “It’s a rough sport. Tell Tommy to be a doctor or lawyer instead. He’ll have a much healthier retirement.”

  “I’m sure you’re mad at my husband, but he did come forward. Only reason you’re out of jail.”