The Executioner's Song

by Norman Mailer

  "Hey," said Gilmore, "I don't know. I don't have a reason." He was calm when he said it, and sad. Looked like he was close to crying. Nielsen felt the sorrow of the man, felt him fill with sorrow at this moment.

  "Gary," said Nielsen, "I can understand a lot of things. I can understand killing a guy who's turned on you, or killing a guy who hassles you. I can understand those kind of things, you know." He paused. He was trying to keep in command of his voice. They were close, and he wanted to keep it just there. "But I just can't understand, you know, killing these guys for almost no reason."

  Nielsen knew he was taking a great many chances. If it ever came to it, he was cutting the corners on the Miranda close enough to send the whole thing up on appeal and he was also making a mistake to keep talking about "those guys" or "why did you kill those guys?" If any of this was going to be worth a nickel in court, he should say, "Mr. Bushnell in Provo," and "Why did you kill Max Jensen in Orem?" You couldn't send a guy to trial for killing two men on separate nights in separate towns if you put both cases into one phrase. Legally speaking, the killings had to be separated.

  Nielsen, however, was sure it would be nonproductive to question him in any more correct way. That would cut it off. So he asked, "Was it because they were going to bear witness against you?" Gilmore said, "No, I really don't know why."

  "Gary," said Nielsen, "I have to think like a good policeman doing a good job. You know, if I can prevent these kinds of things from happening, that makes me successful in my work. And I would like to understand—why would you hit those places? Why did you hit the motel in Provo or the service station? Why those particular places?" "Well," said Gilmore, "the motel just happened to be next to my uncle Vern's place. I just happened on it."

  "But the service station?" said Nielsen. "Why that service station in the middle of nowhere?"

  "I don't know," said Gilmore. "It was there." He looked for a for a moment like he wished to help Nielsen. "Now you take the place where I hid that thing," he said, "after the motel." Nielsen realized he was speaking of the money tray lifted from Benny Bushnell's counter. "Well, I put the thing in that particular bush," he said, "because when I was a kid I used to mow the lawn right there for an old lady."

  Nielsen was trying to think of a few Court decisions that might apply to a situation like this. A confession obtained in an interview that was conducted without the express permission of the man's attorney would not be legal. On the other hand, the suspect himself could initiate the confession. Nielsen was ready to claim that Gilmore had done just this today. After all, he had asked Gary in their first interview at 5 A.M. this morning if he could come back and talk to him after the story was checked out. Gilmore had not said no. With the present Supreme Court, Nielsen had the idea a confession like this might hold up.

  Nevertheless, Nielsen wasn't forgetting the Supreme Court decision on the Williams case. A ten-year-old girl in Iowa had been raped and murdered by a mental patient named Williams, who had been picked up in Des Moines and taken back to the place where he was to be charged. Williams's attorney in Des Moines told the detectives transporting him, "Don't question him out of my presence," then told his client, "Don't make any statements to policemen." All the same, on the way back, one of the detectives accompanying the suspect started playing Williams on his Christian side. The old boy was deeply religious and so the detective said, "Here we are, just a few days before Christmas, and the family of that little girl doesn't know where the body is. It sure would be nice if we could find the body and give the little girl a good Christian burial before Christmas. The family could at least have that much peace." He went on in such a low-key way that the old guy finally told them where the corpse could be found, and got convicted. The Supreme Court, however, had just overruled. They said once a guy has an attorney, the police could not interview him without permission.

  Yet here he was, talking to Gilmore while his attorneys were not aware of it. Still, a couple of technicalities could be argued. Gilmore had already, out on the road, in Nielsen's presence, been read his Miranda rights. Also, the attorneys had been appointed for the Provo case, not for Orem. He might still be, therefore, on legal ground. Besides, the key thing was not to get a confession but a conviction.

  What would be good about a confession, even if they couldn't use it, was that it would produce information they could then employ to dig up further evidence against the guy, and get a good solid case. If they never used the confession in Court, they would have no trouble with the Miranda.

  Besides, it would be good for morale. Once the police knew their man was guilty, they could feel more incentive to keep plugging hard on detail work. It would also avoid any power conflict with officers who wanted to work other leads. The confession would integrate the case, make it a psychological success.

  They went through the cycle again. Nielsen talked about the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter-Day Saints and what his kids contributed on family night each week. Gilmore was interested in the details, and mentioned again that not only was his mother a Mormon, but all of her folks, and he talked about his father who had been a Catholic and drank like hell, and they stayed off the real subject as if they had earned a rest. .

  Then they would get back to it. Nielsen would ask one, then a couple of questions. So soon as Gilmore began to assume a pose that said, "No more questions," Nielsen would talk of other things.

  Jensen's coin changer had been missing from the service station and the police had spent much of yesterday going through garbage at the Holiday Inn with no results. Casually, Nielsen now asked about that. Gilmore stared at him for a long time, as if to say, "I don't know whether to answer you or not. I don't know if I can trust you." Finally he muttered, "I really don't remember. I threw it out the window of the truck, but I can't recollect if it was in the drive-in or on the road." He paused as if searching into his recollection of a movie and he said, "I honestly don't remember. It could have been at the drive-in."

  "Would April know?" Nielsen asked.

  "Don't worry about April," Gilmore said. "She didn't see a thing." He shook his head. "For all practical purposes, she wasn't there."

  When Nielsen began to wonder whether April had any idea of the murder, Gary repeated, "Don't worry, she didn't see a thing. In her head, that little girl was never there."

  He gave a turn to his mouth that was almost a smile. "You know," he said, "If I'd been thinking as straight the last couple of nights as I am today, you guys would not have caught me. When I was a kid I used to pull off robberies . . . " He had a look on his face like a pimp bragging of the number of women who worked for him over the years. "I guess," he said, "I must have pulled off fifty or seventy, maybe even a hundred successful robberies. I knew how to plan something and do it right."

  Nielsen then asked him if he would have gone on killing, if he hadn't been caught. Gilmore nodded. He thought he probably would have. He sat there for a minute and looked amazed. Not amazed, but certainly surprised, and said, "God, I don't know what the hell I'm doing. I've never confessed to a cop before." Nielsen thought he probably hadn't. His record was certainly hard-core all the way. Egotistically speaking, Nielsen felt bolstered. He had gotten a confession out of a hard-core criminal.

  "How many guns did you steal?" Nielsen asked. "Nine," Gilmore told him. "Where did they come from?" "Spanish Fork." "Then we've recovered all but three." That left three unaccounted for. Where might they be? "They're gone," said Gilmore. Nielsen didn't bother to follow up. The way Gilmore said that made it obvious they had been sold, and he would never tell who he sold them to. "I'm responsible," said Gilmore. "Don't blame other people."

  Then he asked, "Did Nicole tell you about her gun?" "No," Nielsen said, "I asked her." Gary said, "I don't want her to get in any trouble about those guns." Nielsen assured him.

  Nielsen tried to get a few more facts about the homicides themselves. Gilmore would give details up to the point where he entered the service station and then he would talk of every
thing after he left. But he did not wish to describe the crime itself.

  Nielsen was trying to determine what went on during the act.

  Gilmore had asked Jensen to lie on the floor. He must then have told him to put his arms beneath his body. No one would ever be found lying face down in such an uncomfortable position of their choice. Next Gilmore had fired the shots right into Jensen's head. First with the pistol two inches away, then with the pistol touching. It was the surest way to kill a man and cause him no suffering. On the other hand, ordering those arms to stay under the body was the surest way to be certain the victim didn't grab your leg as you were putting the muzzle to his head. He could not, however, get Gilmore to talk about this.

  "Why'd you do it, Gary?" Nielsen asked again quietly.

  "I don't know," Gary said.

  "Are you sure?"

  "I'm not going to talk about that," Gilmore said. He shook his head delicately, and looked at Nielsen, and said, "I can't keep up with life."

  Then he asked, "What do you think they'll do to me?"

  Nielsen said, "I don't know. It is very serious."

  "I'd like to be able to talk to Nicole," Gilmore said. "I've been looking for her and I'd really like to talk to her."

  "Hey," Nielsen said, "I'll do anything I can to get her here." They shook hands.

  About five o'clock that afternoon, while Nielsen was talking to Gary, April came home. She had heard about the murders on the radio and said it wasn't true. Gary hadn't done it. She also said she wasn't going to no police station.

  Charley Baker had come in from Toelle when Kathryne phoned to say April was missing. Now, so soon as April saw them together, she got hostile and began shouting that if they tried to take her to the police station by force she would call on her protection to stop them.

  Then, all of a sudden, she seemed to give in. Said she would go.

  Now, Kathryne did not want to bring April over on her own. Didn't know if the child would open the door of the car and jump out.

  So she begged Charley to come along, but he was hesitant. Said, "If she changes her mind even halfway over, then to hell with them. Turn around and bring her back." No way did he want to go.

  July 21, 1976

  NIELSEN What time did he get gas?

  APRIL When we were at the service station in Pleasant Grove.

  NIELSEN Was it after dark?

  APRIL It was dark, it was past sundown.

  NIELSEN After that did you drive around for a while?

  APRIL He said he was taking me home and he wasn't going to put up with any of my smart-ass crap telling him where to go and he said he wanted a classy place like the Holiday Inn, so we went there and I was going to go to sleep because I was really tired. I didn't really know why, I felt like I was running from somebody—ever since somebody broke the windows in our bathroom at home, and I can't really sleep well since then.

  NIELSEN And then you stayed there for that night until what time the next morning?

  APRIL About 8:30 or 9:00.

  NIELSEN I don't mean to imply anything or to pry into your personal life, but did you sleep with him that night?

  APRIL I almost did, but I changed my mind.

  NIELSEN Did he get mad at you then?

  APRIL He was mad at me for acting like a kid half the time, but I just lost my love for him, only I never did sleep with him or anything.

  NIELSEN Did you tell your mom that?

  APRIL She didn't ask me because she knows I have my private life and if I wanted to blow it, I could . . .

  NIELSEN April, Gary is in very serious trouble. I know that, I have talked to him about it and there is no question about it. He already told me you were with him at the time and so I know that you know about it. I am not interested in you telling me so that I can charge you. I don't intend to charge you with it, but I do intend to see that you tell the truth.

  APRIL I am a split personality. I am controlling it pretty good today. A lot of time I like to just let go and let the other person creep on out . . .

  NIELSEN Where did you go last night, when you left home?

  APRIL I went riding around with a couple of friends.

  NIELSEN Did they know him?

  APRIL No.

  NIELSEN Do you mind telling me who they were?

  APRIL One is Grant and one is Joe.

  NIELSEN Where did you stay last night?

  APRIL I didn't sleep all night, rode to Wyoming, and just went in the mountains and down this road and came home.

  NIELSEN What time did you get home?

  APRIL 4:30 or 5:00.

  NIELSEN Don't you worry about your mom worrying about you?

  APRIL I don't think she worries about me. I'm not afraid of no guns and I am not afraid of no dudes with knives. They don't scare me. I have learned self-defense.

  NIELSEN I want to ask you one more time about the service station. April, I think it would be best if you tell me what you know.

  APRIL I don't remember the service station in Orem.

  NIELSEN Do you remember seeing him pull a gun at the service station?

  APRIL We went into a service station right before we went to the Holiday Inn and I am sure there were no guns attached. They may have been carrying them, but that's all.

  NIELSEN Who are "they"?

  APRIL Any of the dudes that were around.

  NIELSEN Do you know any of them?

  APRIL I recognize all of them, but I don't know some of their names. One of them works with him at the insulation place.

  NIELSEN Insulation?

  APRIL Where he works at the Ideal Insulation. I am pretty sure it was the friend we visited.

  NIELSEN At the cafe?

  APRIL It may not have been.

  NIELSEN Are you about ready to go back home?

  APRIL Yes. I am wondering why I am here.

  NIELSEN I will be glad to help you if I can.

  When April came out of the interview, she said, "Mama, they told me Gary killed two men. Do you believe that?"

  Kathryne said, "Well, April, I guess he must have."

  "Gary couldn't kill someone, Mama."

  "Well, April," Kathryne said, "I think Gary told them he did."

  Chapter 18

  AN ACT OF CONTRITION

  Next morning, Gilmore was brought from Provo to Orem, and Nielsen saw him in his office, and apologized about the crowd outside. There were TV lights and a lot of reporters and city employees in the hall, but what really embarrassed Nielsen was that half the police force including off-duty officers had also come out. People were even standing on chairs to get a look.

  Nielsen had his secretary bring a cup of coffee. Then he said "Lieutenant Skinner is going to sign a complaint charging you with the homicide of Max Jensen." After a short pause, Gary said, "Hey, I really feel bad about those two guys. I read one of their obituaries in the paper last night. He was a young man and had a kid and he was a missionary. Makes me really feel bad."

  "Gary, I feel bad too. I can't understand taking a life for amount of money you got."

  Gary replied, "I don't know how much I got. What was there?"

  Nielsen said, "It was $125, and in Provo, approximately the same amount." Gary began to cry. He didn't weep with any noise but there were tears in his eyes. He said, "I hope they execute me for it. I ought to die for what I did."

  "Gary, are you ready to?" Nielsen asked. "It doesn't scare you?"

  "Would you like to die?"

  "Criminy," said Nielsen, "no."

  "Me, neither," said Gilmore, "but I ought to be executed." "I don't know," said Nielsen, "there's got to be forgiveness somewhere along the line."

  A little later, Gary made a private call to Brenda.

  "How," he asked her, "did the cops know I was at Craig Taylor's house?"

  "Gary, you might as well know, I don't want you hearing it from somebody else. I called the police."

  "I see."

  Brenda said, "You're probably going to be bent real ou
t of shape with me. But, Gary, it had to stop. You commit a murder Monday, and commit a murder Tuesday. I wasn't waiting for Wednesday to roll around."

  "Hey, cousin," said Gary, "don't worry about it."

  Brenda said, "Gary, you're going to go down hard this time. You're going to ride this one clear to the bottom."

  He said, "Man, how do you know I'm not innocent?"

  "Gary, what's the matter with your head?"

  "I don't know," Gary said, "I must have been insane."

  Brenda asked, "What about your mother? What do you want me to tell her?"

  He was quiet for a while. Then he said, "Tell her it's true."

  Brenda said, "Okay. Anything else?"

  "Just tell her I love her."

  Craig Snyder, Gary's other lawyer, was shorter than Esplin, about five-seven, with broad shoulders, blond hair, and pale eyes. He had eye-glasses with pale frames. Today, he was wearing a blond-colored suit with a tie that had several shades of yellow, green, and orange, and a yellow shirt.

  On this morning in Orem, Snyder and Esplin didn't even know Gary was being interviewed by Gerald Nielsen until he was brought up to be arraigned. Afterward, they sat down with him, and he said he had committed both murders, and had told Nielsen.

  They were certainly upset. Gilmore had been informed of his Miranda rights when arrested, but he had not been given full Miranda down at the jail. Any confession Gilmore offered had to be worthless, the lawyers decided. It was infuriating. They had been kept waiting forty-five minutes while a Lieutenant of Detectives was grilling him.

  In reply, Gary seemed more interested in the fact that Nielsen had promised he could see Nicole at the jail. He wanted his lawyers to make sure Nielsen kept his word.

  Nicole was in Springville with Barrett when the police came. They didn't phone or anything. Just a cop to ask her to get ready. A little later, Lieutenant Nielsen was there in a car. He would drive her over to see Gary.