The Death and Life of Gabriel Phillips

by Stephen Baldwin

  “Yeah, I bet he’s pleased,” Andy said. “I’m just not too sure who the family is that he’s talking about. The mom’s dead and the dad is the one in prison. Maybe there’s still a grandmother alive out there, somewhere, dying for some justice, but I haven’t heard anything about her.” He read the rest of the story, then folded the paper and tossed it into the passenger seat. “Justice,” he said. “That’s all I ever wanted. Plain old-fashioned justice.” He put the car in gear and drove south to the next exit off Interstate 65. The truck stop’s food didn’t compare to Denny’s, but at least Andy would be able to eat in peace.

  After his shift ended, Andy called the state attorney general’s office in Indianapolis. “Rachel Maris, please,” he said to the operator who answered the call.

  “Please hold.” One minute later another woman’s voice said, “Rachel Maris, may I help you?”

  “Hi, Rachel. This is Officer Andrew Myers. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was one of the investigators on the John Phillips case. At the time I was a patrolman with the Trask Police Department. I discovered the boy’s body.”

  “Of course, I remember you, Andy. I’m sorry I missed you when you testified at the appeal hearing earlier this fall. How are you? I heard you were in some kind of an accident.”

  “Yeah, got hit by a car while I was out jogging. It was my own stupid fault. I should have known better than to have gone out running down a narrow road after dark.”

  “Are you better now?”

  “Pretty much. The cold weather affects me more than it used to, but, hey, that’s life. How’s the new job in the attorney general’s office?”

  “It isn’t exactly new anymore, but I’m enjoying it. It’s quite the change from Harris County, I can tell you that. I understand that you’ve changed jobs.”

  “Yeah, I’m with the state police now. Have been for a couple of years.”

  “Well, good for you. You were too good a policeman to be stuck on such a small force. A place like Trask would never bring out your full potential.” As she said this, Andy wondered if she was flirting a little with him. Probably just my imagination, he thought.

  “That’s very kind of you to say. Hey, listen, the reason I called was I read today that you’ve set a date for John Phillips’s execution.”

  “Yes. March eighth.”

  “Good, good. I was wondering if I could somehow be allowed in the prison to witness the actual execution. You know, I’ve been a part of this case since the beginning. I would really like to see it through to completion.”

  “Sure, I can understand that. I really can. You know, I’m not sure how many spots we have available . . .” Andy thought she sounded like she was talking about tickets to an IU basketball game. “Let me see what I can do. The governor wants to keep this from turning into a circus, which means not many people will be allowed into the execution room galley, but you never know. I know back when we prosecuted this case, Reg said he wouldn’t have been able to get a conviction without you. I’ll call him and get back with you. What’s your number?”

  Andy gave her his phone number, then added, “I really appreciate this. You know, back on the night that this happened, I made a promise to Gabriel’s mother and to myself that I would make sure if John had anything to do with this, he would get what he deserves.”

  “That’s so sweet. Do you think the mother might also want to be there? Sometimes they do, you know.”

  “No. I doubt if she would,” Andy said.

  One week later, Andy’s phone rang. “Hello,” he said.

  “Please hold for the governor,” an operator said. A couple of moments later, Andy heard a familiar voice. “Hello, Officer Myers, how are you?”

  “Very well, Governor, very well. And may I say congratulations on your election, sir.”

  “Thank you, Officer, that’s very kind of you. You know, we’ve already had to start making plans for the reelection campaign.”

  “I’m sure you won’t have any problem winning a second term, sir,” Andy said. Same old Reginald Chambliss, Esquire, he thought. The guy is so full of baloney, I can smell him through the phone lines.

  “Thank you. Let’s hope you’re right. But, listen, the reason I called was because Rachel Maris told me you would like to be there when John Phillips is executed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I tell you, Andy, I’ve never forgotten the help you gave us on this case. Getting a conviction would have been much more difficult without your hard work.”

  “I appreciate that, sir.”

  “You already know how near and dear this case is to my own heart. That’s why I’m going to be there. And I would like for you to be there with me.”

  “Excuse me, sir.”

  “Yes, Andy. I would like for you to sit next to me at the execution. My office will make all the arrangements. I understand that you are now a state trooper, is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.” Yeah, you wrote a letter of recommendation for me, don’t you remember? Andy thought that, but didn’t dare say it.

  “Excellent. Excellent. Be sure to wear your uniform then. I would also like for you to stand on the platform with me during my news conferences both before and after the actual execution.”

  “Really, sir? That’s very kind of you. It will be an honor.”

  “The pleasure is all mine. You’re out there on the front line in my campaign to make Indiana safe. You deserve all the credit you can get.” Yeah, old Reginald Chambliss could sure lay it on thick. “As I said, my office will be in touch with you to make all the arrangements. I think the date is pretty firm. The state appeals court turned him down for the last time, and barring intervention by the supreme court, the eighth of March should be a go.”

  “I’ll be there,” Andy said. Shortly after he hung up, his phone rang again. The governor’s office didn’t waste any time. An assistant had called to confirm Andy’s address, phone number, and the station out of which he worked. He was told that a package would arrive the following week with his hotel information and everything else he needed for the trip to John’s execution. “Good. Thank you. I appreciate it,” Andy said in response.

  Back when John was first convicted, Andy had told him he would be there to see him fry. Now he had a front-row seat. Not only would Andy be able to see John, John should be able to see him. It was exactly what Andy had always hoped for. He hadn’t been able to see his face when the jury handed down its guilty plea, but he would be able to see it when it mattered most. Andy circled the date on his calendar and let out a sigh of relief. “Finally,” he said, “the end is in sight. Thank God.”

  The woman in charge of shuffling schedules at the Columbus state police headquarters gave Andy a look that said you’re kidding when he turned in his vacation request. “Didn’t you just take a bunch of time off?” she asked. Andy didn’t know her name. Or should I say, he never made the effort to remember it. Everyone called her the “Vacation Nazi.” This was his first time to have to deal with her.

  “I wouldn’t exactly call lying in the hospital a vacation,” Andy said.

  “Well, of course, I know you were off because of your accident, but still . . . ,” she said. This woman had the well-earned reputation of being a pain in the rear. Any request for time off she treated as an insult to the state police and the state of Indiana. In her mind the act of wearing the badge was such an honor that no one would ever voluntarily take time off. Of course, that didn’t stop her from using every vacation and sick day she had every year. But then again, the Vacation Nazi didn’t wear the badge. She just worked there.

  “If you’ll check your records, you’ll notice that I haven’t taken one vacation day since I joined the force. And the sick days I used right after the operation on my leg are the only ones I’ve ever used, and even then I badgered the doctor to let me come back to work a month earlier than he wanted.”

  “I guess that’s true. So how much time do you want to take off?”

  “Al
l of it.”

  “What?”

  “All of it that I’ve accrued so far.”

  The Vacation Nazi sputtered. “I—I . . . well, I’ll have to make sure we can do that. How much time do you think you have coming?”

  “By my calculations, a month.”

  “A month! Heavens no. There’s no way you can take a full month off.”

  “Okay, three weeks,” Andy said. Before she could say a word, he said, “I’ll be back at the end of my shift to sign the request form. Make sure it’s ready. Besides, the first part of it can hardly be called a vacation, since I’m going to have to spend it in uniform next to the governor.”

  “What?! You know the governor?”

  Andy gave her a wink, smiled, and said, “Three weeks. I’ll save the other week for Memorial Day. Who knows? I may want to go to the race and will need the time off.”

  During his lunch break Andy went by a travel agency in downtown Columbus. “I want to go on a trip, but I’m not sure about exactly when I can leave. It may fluctuate by a day or two, and I may have to change it at the last minute. Oh, and I need to fly out of Chicago. I’ll be up there anyway, and it will be much more convenient for me,” he told the clerk.

  “Where do you want to go?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Where would you suggest?”

  “When, approximately, are you planning on leaving?”

  “Around the eighth of March. It may be that day or the day after, I’m not sure exactly when I can get away.”

  “Why don’t you play it safe and schedule your trip for the ninth. That will save you money and we can lock in the fare.”

  “No, I really want to be able to leave as soon as I can. If it costs me a little extra for some flexibility, that’s okay. I might as well spend it on something fun, right?”

  The clerk smiled. “I guess so. So where do you want to go?”

  “Where do you suggest?”

  The clerk laughed. “Oh, I guess we already had that conversation, didn’t we? Well, if I were planning a trip for early March, I would go somewhere south, where it’s warm. Most people are sick and tired of winter by March and want to go someplace nice and sunny.”

  “I’m sick of it, and it’s still January.”

  “Me too. So, like I was saying, I would go south. A lot of people enjoy Florida that time of year, especially southern Florida or one of the keys. I personally have heard Key West is a wonderful place to go.”

  “That sounds like a possibility. What else do you have?”

  “Well, the Gulf Coast is nice, but it can be a little nippy still in March, unless you go down to South Texas. There’s a place called South Padre Island that is a very nice place to go.”

  “Okay. That might work. What else do you have?”

  “There’s always Arizona, unless you want beach, and I personally don’t think it’s a vacation without time on the beach,” the clerk said with a laugh.

  “I can go either way. I’ve never been that much of a beach person. But then again, I live in Indiana. The only beach I’ve ever been to is alongside Brookville Lake.”

  “If you’ve never been to the beach, you ought to go. California has a lot of beaches, but the water is cold. If you don’t want to swim, you might consider going there.”

  “All right, I will. What else do you suggest?”

  The clerk slumped in her chair and thought for a moment.

  “What about outside the States?” Andy asked.

  “Well, that can be quite expensive. And you will have to have a passport.”

  “I’ve been saving for something like this for a long time, and the passport desk in the back of the post office is my next stop.”

  “How far out of the country do you want to go?”

  “Not too far. I was reading in the National Geographic the other day about Belize. It said they speak English down there.”

  “I’m not sure about that,” the woman said.

  “You know, the more I think about it, the more I want to be adventurous. Let’s do Belize. Can you set everything up?”

  “Of course, but it will take a few days.” She looked at Andy like he’d lost his mind.

  “And remember, I want the tickets to be flexible, just in case my schedule changes. I have something important happening on the eighth of March, but it may get bumped back by a day or two, so I don’t want to miss it.”

  “I can set your trip up that way. When do you want to return?”

  “Can I leave that open as well? I may get down there and figure out I hate the place. I’ve watched National Geographic specials my whole life, and I always wanted to try my hand at exploring. But if I find out I stink at it, I don’t want to get stuck in a strange country for too long, even if they do speak English there.”

  “I understand completely,” she said with a smile. “But that will make this very expensive.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’ve lived way below my means for as long as I can remember, and I’ve saved more money than I really know what to do with. I think it’s time to live a little.”

  “If you say so, sir,” the clerk said as Andy got up to leave.

  The next week, when he went in to pick up his plane tickets and finalize his hotel reservations, the same woman waited on him. “You piqued my curiosity, Officer,” she said. “I went to the library and did a little research into the country of Belize. They say that it has some of the best scuba diving in Central America. Do you scuba dive?”

  “No,” Andy said, “but who knows, maybe I will give it a try.”

  “It also has miles and miles of pristine rain forest. It sounds like a wonderful place to try your hand as an explorer, and you won’t even have to learn a different language.”

  “That’s what I intend to do,” Andy said. He glanced over his tickets. “So these are completely flexible as to when I leave and when I come back?”

  “Yes, sir. You will need to double-check with the airlines and make sure of their flight schedule. But, yes, they are open-ended and fully refundable and transferable.”

  “What does that mean?” Andy asked.

  “If for some reason you couldn’t use them, you could give them away to someone else or, I suppose, sell them. Again, just let the airline know ahead of time, and everything will be fine,” she said. Now, you have to keep in mind that this was long before 9/11 and all the changes that brought to traveling by plane. Back then, everyone seemed pretty laid-back about all of that.

  “Hmm, that’s interesting. I can’t imagine that I would ever need to do that, but it’s good to know just in case. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get down to the rain forest and decide I want to live there. It’s good to know I can sell my ticket home for a little extra spending money.” He laughed and the clerk joined in.

  The next few weeks flew by without a hitch. Andy stayed busy making arrangements for his time away. He applied for a passport and visa, both of which arrived about a week before he was scheduled to leave. The Vacation Nazi turned loose his time off, and even had the nerve to ask if he would like his fourth week. Andy didn’t take it. He told her that three weeks where he was going would probably be more than enough, if he could last that long. Packing for such a lengthy trip didn’t take him as long as you might expect. He didn’t plan on taking much with him. He figured he could pick up most of what he needed after he arrived. That’s not the way I pack for a trip. My wife makes sure I have at least one set of clothes for every day, along with two alternates. Andy, he wasn’t married, so I guess he figured on traveling light.

  Although he didn’t have any pets, he wanted to make sure his cabin didn’t fall apart while he was gone. A young married couple he’d met in Nashville, Indiana, the previous summer agreed to house-sit for him. Their names were, or are, Doug and Dana. They’re still married all these years later. I’ve talked to them a few times. Nice people. They welcomed the invitation to stay in Andy’s little cabin. It beat staying with Doug’s parents, which is where they were living at th
e time. And, yeah, it surprised me, too, to hear that Andy had actually made some friends. I thought after moving down south he’d become a complete and total hermit except for the time he spent at work. Even then, he rode around all by himself in a squad car. That made him a mobile hermit, but a hermit nonetheless. I’m not sure how the hermit actually found it within himself to connect with another human being, especially two human beings. I guess my dad didn’t tell me everything he did with his time.

  Chapter 23

  THE BANK TELLER did not want to take no for an answer. “Sir, haven’t you seen the Karl Malden commercials? You should never carry cash while traveling. You should always use traveler’s checks,” she said.

  “But I don’t like checks,” Andy said over and over.

  “You don’t understand. These are just like cash, except, if they are lost or stolen, you can get your money back.”

  “But I don’t like checks. Besides, I don’t plan on losing my money, and if someone steals it from me, what kind of cop am I?”

  “I don’t know about that. But I do know that almost all of our customers who travel out of the country use traveler’s checks, especially those who plan on carrying as much money as you withdrew.”

  “But I don’t like checks. Listen, I appreciate your concern. I really do. But believe me. I’ll be fine. Just give me the cash. I’m willing to live a little dangerous.”

  “Okay. If you insist.” She crinkled her brow and made it very clear that she believed Andy was making a huge mistake. However, she dutifully counted out twenty-four one-hundred-dollar bills, and five twenties. “Enjoy your trip,” she said as Andy gathered up his money.

  He smiled and said, “I plan on it. I’ve needed to do something like this for a very long time.” He placed the twenties in his wallet, and put the Benjamins in one of those bank envelopes and shoved it in his pocket. “I’ll see you when I get back,” he said with a wave.