Chamber

record who he was and what he was doing. 'I was at Parchman an hour ago,' he said, looking at his watch. 'Just flew down on the state helicopter.'

'When did you last see Sam Cayhall?' Roxburgh asked.

'He was moved to the Observation Cell at nine this morning. I spoke with him then.'

'Was he mentally alert, or just drooling over in the corner like an idiot?'

Adam started to jump and object, but Goodman grabbed his arm.

'He was extremely alert,' Nugent said eagerly. 'Very sharp. He asked me why he was being moved from his cell to another one. He understood what was happening. He didn't like it, but then Sam doesn't like anything these days.'

'Did you see him yesterday?'

'Yes.'

'And was he able to speak, or just lying around like a vegetable?'

'Oh, he was quite talkative.'

'What did you talk about?'

'I had a checklist of things I needed to cover with Sam. He was very hostile, even threatened me with bodily harm. He's a very abrasive person with a sharp tongue. He settled down a bit, and we talked about his last meal, his witnesses, what to do with his personal effects. Things such as that. We talked about the execution.'

'Is he aware he is about to be executed?'

Nugent burst into laughter. 'What kind of question is that?'

'Just answer it,' Slattery said without a smile.

'Of course he knows. He knows damned well what's going on. He's not crazy. He told me the execution would not take place because his lawyers were about to unload the heavy artillery, as he put it. They've planned all this.' Nugent waved both hands at the entire courtroom.

Roxburgh asked about prior meetings with Sam, and Nugent spared no details. He seemed to remember every word Sam had uttered in the past two weeks, especially the biting sarcasm and caustic remarks.

Adam knew it was all true. He huddled quickly with Garner Goodman, and they decided to forgo any cross- examination. Little could be gained from it.

Nugent marched down the aisle and out of the courtroom. The man had a mission. He was needed at Parchman.

The state's second witness was Dr. N. Stegall, psychiatrist for the Department of Corrections. She made her way to the witness stand as Roxburgh conferred with Morris Henry.

'State your name for the record,' Slattery said.

'Dr. N. Stegall.'

'Ann?' His Honor asked.

'No. N. It's an initial.'

Slattery looked down at her, then looked at Roxburgh who shrugged as if he didn't know what to say.

The judge eased even closer to the edge of his bench, and peered down at the witness stand. 'Look, Doctor, I didn't ask for your initial, I asked for your name. Now, you state it for the record, and be quick about it.'

She jerked her eyes away from his, cleared her throat, and reluctantly said, 'Neldeen.'

No wonder, thought Adam. Why hadn't she changed it to something else?

Roxburgh seized the moment and asked her a rapid series of questions about her qualifications and training. Slattery had already deemed her fit to testify.

'Now, Dr. Stegall,' Roxburgh began, careful to avoid any reference to Neldeen, 'when did you meet with Sam Cayhall?'

She held a sheet of paper which she looked at. 'Thursday, July 26.'

'And the purpose of this visit?'

'As part of my job, I routinely visit death row inmates, especially those with executions approaching. I provide counseling and medication, if they request it.'

'Describe Mr. Cayhall's mental condition?'

'Extremely alert, very bright, very sharptongued, almost to the point of being rude. In fact, he was quite rude to me, and he asked me not to come back.'

'Did he discuss his execution?'

'Yes. In fact, he knew that he had thirteen days to go, and he accused me of trying to give him medication so he wouldn't be any trouble when his time came. He also expressed concern for another death row inmate, Randy Dupree, who Sam thinks is deteriorating mentally. He was most concerned about Mr. Dupree, and chastised me for not examining him.'

'In your opinion, is he suffering from any form of decreased mental capacity?'

'Not at all. His mind is very sharp.'

'No further questions,' Roxburgh said, and sat down.

Adam walked purposefully to the podium. 'Tell us, Dr. Stegall, how is Randy Dupree doing?' he asked at full volume.

'I, uh, I haven't had a chance to see him yet.

'Sam told you about him eleven days ago, and you haven't bothered to meet with him.'

'I've been busy.'

'How long have you held your present job?'

'Four years.'

'And in four years how many times have you talked to Sam Cayhall?'

'Once.'

'You don't care much for the death row inmates, do you, Dr. Stegall?'

'I certainly do.'

'How many men are on death row right now?'

'Well, uh, I'm not sure. Around forty, I think.'

'How many have you actually talked to? Give us a few names.'

Whether it was fear or anger or ignorance, no one could tell. But Neldeen froze. She grimaced and cocked her head to one side, obviously trying to pull a name from the air, and obviously unable to do so. Adam allowed her to hang for a moment, then said, 'Thank you, Dr. Stegall.' He turned and walked slowly back to his chair.

'Call your next witness,' Slattery demanded.

'The state calls Sergeant Clyde Packer.'

Packer was fetched from the hallway and led to the front of the courtroom. He was still in uniform, but the gun had been removed. He swore to tell the truth, and took his seat on the witness stand.

Adam was not surprised at the effect of Packer's testimony. He was an honest man who simply told what he'd seen. He'd known Sam for nine and a half years, and he was the same today as he was when he first arrived. He typed letters and law papers all day long, read many books, especially legal ones. He typed writs for his buddies on the Row, and he typed letters to wives and girlfriends for some of the guys who couldn't spell. He chain-smoked because he wanted to kill himself before the state got around to it. He loaned money to friends. In Packer's humble opinion, Sam was as mentally alert now as he'd been nine and a half years earlier. And his mind was very quick.

Slattery leaned a bit closer to the edge of the bench when Packer described Sam's checkers games with Henshaw and Gullitt.

'Does he win?' His Honor asked, interrupting.

'Almost always.'

Perhaps the turning point of the hearing came when Packer told the story of Sam wanting to see a sunrise before he died. It happened late last week when Packer was making his rounds one morning. Sam had quietly made the request. He knew he was about to die, said he was ready to go, and that he'd like to sneak out early one morning to the bullpen on the east end and see the sun come up. So Packer took care of it, and last Saturday Sam spent an hour sipping coffee and waiting for the sun. Afterward, he was very grateful.

Adam had no questions for Packer. He was excused, and left the courtroom.

Roxburgh announced that the next witness was Ralph Griffin, the prison chaplain. Griffin was led to the stand, and looked uncomfortably around the courtroom. He gave his name and occupation, then glanced warily at