time cost you?'
'Quite a lot. If I'm not seen to be acting on principle.'
Moving closer, Chris stared into Darrow's eyes. 'What principle?' he said. 'You've never granted clemency. Neither did the last two governors. Since they ran Rose Bird off the State Supreme Court, no one has. Because there's no money in it, and no votes.
'We don't have clemency in this state anymore. It's just another level of emotional brutality, a way station to death, exploited by governors who shut their eyes to scavenge a few more votes. You can do better, Craig. This is the case.'
The Governor dropped his arm, and his face seemed to close. 'It's only a case. So let's be real. Our state's economy is tanking. The right wing is ginning up a recall to run me out of office, with a tough-guy movie star waiting in the wings to front for them. You think he's going to be passing out clemency like communion wafers? Forget it.
'If I lose this office, all the other things you care about—education, child care programs, environmental protection—are going with me. If I do what you want me to—overruling a slew of courts—they'll make me into another Kathleen Brown, the last Democrat to run for governor and against the death penalty.'
Now Chris's face was inches from Darrow's. 'And you'll have done a decent thing—'
'Do you remember Governor Kathleen?' Darrow interrupted with asperity. 'Well, neither do I. She never had the chance to do one decent thing. So don't lecture me on moral leadership.'
Chris felt the pulse pounding in his temple. Placing both hands on Darrow's shoulders, he said, 'It's very simple. In less than two hours, Rennell Price lives or dies.'
Almost imperceptibly, the Governor shook his head.
For a white-hot instant, Chris fought back the urge to grab Darrow by the lapels and smash him against the wall. With difficulty, he lowered his hands and reached into a pocket for a business card. Then he gently grasped the Governor's right lapel and slid the card inside the pocket of his suit coat.
'That's the warden's telephone number,' Chris said. 'It's a long drive back to Sacramento, Craig. At twelve- oh-one, you'll still be awake. That gives you one last chance to call.'
Turning, Chris left.
* * *
A few minutes before eleven o'clock, the phone in front of Terri rang.
Hastily, she picked it up. 'I'm sorry,' Chris told her wearily. 'The Supreme Court just turned us down, seven votes to two.'
Terri felt sick. 'What about Darrow?'
'I tried.' Chris's voice was bitter. 'He sees no future in Rennell, and so Rennell has none. Unless he changes his mind and calls the warden, it's over.'
'What chance is there of that?'
'None. And Johnny Moore's gotten nowhere.' His tone softened. 'Carlo and I are on our way. We'll be there with you soon.'
* * *
Before placing her last call to Rennell, Terri took five minutes to compose herself. When she picked up the phone again, her watch read 11:03.
'Terri?' Rennell said, voice filling with fear and hope.
'It's me.' Pausing, she fought to keep her voice from breaking. 'I'm sorry, Rennell. The Supreme Court turned us down. So did Governor Darrow. There's nothing else we can do.'
She could not go on. In a dull voice, Rennell asked, 'That means I'm gonna die?'
'Yes.' Terri groped for words. 'I hate telling you that, Rennell. But I wanted to say how much I love you.'
'Me, too.' Rennell's voice was husky. 'You take care of Chris and Carlo, okay?'
The words pierced Terri's heart—somewhere, this limited man had learned to imagine, and to feel for, the two fortunate men who had learned to care for him. The irony felt devastating—its sadness, the immense waste of a human being who, fifteen years before, a jury had believed to be too callous to pity a nine-year-old girl.
'I will,' Terri promised, and her voice began to falter. 'I have to say goodbye, because our time is up. But only for now, Rennell. You'll see us all again.'
'In heaven?'
It was what Terri, as a child, had been taught to believe and no longer could. But there was nothing else to say. 'In heaven,' she affirmed. 'Your grandma's there already.'
She heard Rennell inhale. 'And Payton?'
'Yes,' Terri answered. 'And Payton.'
TWENTY-THREE
AT ELEVEN-THIRTY, TERRI ENTERED THE WITNESS AREA.
The family of Thuy Sen—Meng, Chou, and Kim—clustered together, awaiting Rennell with impassive patience. As before, Kim Sen clutched a photograph of her murdered sister. Terri did not speak to them.
She stood alone, picturing Rennell. They would be issuing him fresh denims to put on in a cell next to the chamber. She imagined him with his head lowered, awaiting death as it crept toward him, second by second. Each
