with Millbrook, Minnesota, Milwaukee and now Chicago.”
“Yeah, I heard about Chicago.” A brief moment of hopeful light entered his eyes. “Heard through the prison grapevine.”
They were in a sealed, locked room with cameras panning, monitored by guards at a video station outside. They were within six feet of Towne's cell, within fifty feet of the chamber were he was scheduled to die.
“We've got people all over the thing in Chicago, Rob, doing everything possible to pull a rabbit outta the hat.”
Jessica added, “Not to mention our agent who's lit a fire under Minnesota authorities. He sent us the blood type found under the victim's nails.”
“All the way from a two-year-old corpse in a cemetery in Millbrook, Bro,” added Darwin.
“So we need to take your blood type and match it against the findings there. I've brought my medical bag in order to conduct the test. All I need is your OK to go ahead.”
“What's the use? It won't change any minds, no matter the outcome of any damn tests you got, Doctor.”
Darwin fell into a chair, stunned. “This makes no sense, Rob, just giving up, like… like a whipped dog.”
Jessica noted Darwin with his brother, how alike they were in mannerism and speech pattern if Darwin chose to use the easygoing language of his youth.
“Got no reason, Darwin, to trust on anything no more. I've made peace with going over. I can't take another false hope that's going to die on the vine. Told my lawyers that already. Told 'em I didn't wanna see you but one time more and then I'm done, Bro… Done and over with and you can get back to your life, your kids, man, that woman of yours. No more wasting your life over me, Darwin.”
Darwin shot to his feet and got in his brother's face. On profile, they really did look the part of twins, Jessica thought. “Damn you, Rob! Damn it, if your blood type is anything other than AB-negative, then that cell door has got to swing open for you, man! Now give the doc here some blood and do it now. With this, the governor's got to listen to reason.”
“Only one problem with that, Little Brother…”
“What problem?”
“Already know my blood type… and it's AB-negative all the way.”
“Jesus… God… why?” Darwin moaned.
“Are you simply saying this because you've made up your mind to die, Mr. Towne?” asked Jessica.
“I asked the doc here to give me the test moment I heard what you had got from that dead woman in Minnesota. Talk to the prison doc, Old Doc Waters, if you don't believe me.”
“Is that why you didn't want to see us earlier, Mr. Towne? Because you want no more false hopes?” asked Jessica.
He turned to Darwin. “I told 'em I didn't want to see you, Little Brother. Sorry but that's the way it is. I want you to give it up now, Darwin.”
Jessica met Darwin's gaze. Darwin asked, “When the hell are we going to get those DNA results from Cellmark?”
“I'm going to get on the phone to them personally, and I'll see if I can get the real Fischer to get on their asses, too.”
“I appreciate all you've both done for me,” said Towne, “really, I do. But I have to be reasonable now, practical. I know there's no way I'm getting outta this business alive… not in this life, not now. I've got to let it go. Else I can't make my peace, Darwin, with God, you know.”
“You do that, Robert,” Darwin angrily replied. “Make your goddamn peace with God! Meanwhile, we're going to find a way to get you outta this fix. I swear it.”
“Your family is missing you, boy. You're going to lose that pretty wife and those kids. Now you just get on back to Wisconsin where you belong, Little Brother, and forget about me!”
“Ain't gonna let you go like that, Robert.”
They glared like two bulls now, each in the other's face, prompting a guard to rush in and cuff Towne.
“That's not necessary!” shouted his brother.
“We're OK here,” Jessica shouted, waving her hands at the guard. But this only brought on more guards and they wrestled Towne from the room, threatening Darwin with a clubbing if he interfered.
As they left the facility, having regained their belongings, Jessica finally broke the silence. “Well, that went well.”
“Same fucking blood type. Wouldn't you know it? Hughes'll make hay with that. All the excuse they need to execute Robert now.”
“We don't know that.”
“The hell we don't.”
“We don't know that Robert was telling us the truth.”
“What? Why would he lie?”
“You heard him. He wants no more false hopes, dead ends. He's got to come to terms with dying, and you and I… we represent something that's pulling him away from that, so… so maybe…”
“So perhaps he's lying about the blood test?”
She nodded. “I got the number to this Dr. Albert Earl Waters. You and Towne certainly have one thing in common besides your good looks.”
“What's that?”
“You can both lie with a straight face.”
“Call it survival tactics learned at an early age.”
“Given your brother's state of mind, I suppose I can understand him… if he was making it up.”
“You really think there's a chance the blood type is still in question?”
“I think we need to verify his blood type one way or another and not simply take the word of a depressed man facing execution.”
“Hell yeah… his emotions hafta be going yo-yo, sure.” Darwin grasped at the straw, happy to have it to hold on to.
They now stood under the waning sky, clouds rolling in, outside the Oregon State Penitentiary, the sunny day was turning to dusk with threat of rain in the air. “I was told Albert Waters is not here but that we can catch him at a clinic in Portland. I have the address and number.”
“In the meantime, we've gotta get on Cellmark's ass. Can you really get Director Fischer on them?” Darwin urged.
“I'm going to do my damnedest.”
They climbed into the rental car Darwin called an investment, not wishing to rely on local law enforcement and FBI for anything. They drove off the dismal grounds, having to get clearance at three checkpoints. Once outside the gates, before getting on the road to Portland, they still had to drive through the protesters on either side of the car, slowing their progress. Pro-lifers and those wanting to have the execution televised shouted slogans at one another. Jessica could never understand the mentality that had people who were for execution picketing prisons on the eve of an execution. They were getting what they wanted. What else could they possibly hope to accomplish?
Finally, they were past all the checkpoints and the mob. With Darwin driving, Jessica telephoned FBI headquarters in D.C., hoping to catch Director William Fischer, her mental fingers crossed. She announced herself and asked to be put through to the FBI director.
Darwin meanwhile dialed for Dr. Waters.
A pleasant sounding woman's voice came over for Jessica, one she recognized as Fischer's personal secretary, Madeline. “Why Jessica Coran, how nice to hear from you. What can we do for you, Doctor?”
“I need the director. I need his help.”“I'm afraid he's en route to Africa.”
“Africa?”
“South Africa to be accurate.”
“Then find a way to put me through to him. I need him to call in a rush order at Cellmark in St. Paul.” She gave Madeline the phone number to the DNA test labs. “It's a matter of life and death.”
“Yes, the Towne affair in Oregon, we know.”
