or picturing himself under fire by civil rights protesters on future
campaign stops.
We were still debating the case when Alice Gerstein rapped on the door
and peeked in. 'Dr. Easterbrook and his lawyer are here whenever
you're ready.'
From what I'd heard, the usual goal of these meetings was to make the
decision before the family arrived, then use the rest of the time to
get the family on board. But Duncan wasn't going to make Townsend wait
while we continued to argue.
'For now, we'll hear what he's got to say. If I make a final decision,
I'll let everyone know. We may just have to meet again.'
I moved to the empty chair between Rocco and Russ. It might have
seemed like a thoughtful gesture so Townsend could sit next to his own
attorney. In truth, it was to ensure that Roger didn't sit next to me.
I wasn't sure I could resist the temptation to kick him in the shins if
he irritated me.
With constituents in the room, Duncan ran the floor. He got about as
far as any government lawyer short of the solicitor general would have
before my ex took over. Roger Kirkpatrick is and always has been a
power lawyer.
'We appreciate your having Dr. Easterbrook here so he can communicate
his views in person. I'm sure you understand that this is not an easy
thing for him to talk about.'
As much as Tara and Susan had emphasized Townsend's deterioration, they
had nevertheless understated it. His eyes were puffy, his skin pale;
he looked at the table when he spoke, barely registering our presence.
He mumbled something about being against the death penalty, hating
Melvin Jackson, and being a doctor, before Roger spared him and us
further embarrassment.
Roger placed his hand on Townsend's shoulder. 'It's OK. Let me see if
I can explain what you told me earlier.' He shifted his attention to
the rest of us. 'Townsend has struggled this week with a new emotion a
hatred of Melvin Jackson that is more intense than anything I'm sure
any of us has felt before. When he first heard Monday about the
evidence found in Jackson's apartment, his instinct, and I'm being
frank here, was to kill Jackson himself.'
Townsend didn't currently look capable of let alone driven to revenge,
but maybe the change was further proof of what this week had been like
for him.
'I spent a lot of time calming him that night, talking to him about the
court system and convincing him that the case was strong enough that I
was confident your office could convict. I left his house Monday night
certain that he would be lobbying you to pursue this prosecution as a
capital case. But when we talked the next day, Townsend told me he'd
been up all night, trying to picture what the rest of his life would be
like if Jackson were dead or if Jackson were in prison. And, he's
convinced the right outcome is a life sentence not just to spare
Jackson but to spare himself. He's a doctor in the business of saving
lives and was quite frightened, I think, of the emotions that
Clarissa's death triggered in him. I don't think he could live with
himself if another human being even one as despicable as Jackson were
put to death, even in part to console him. Townsend, do you have
anything you want to add?'
From appearances, I wouldn't have thought that Townsend was even
listening, but he responded to the question. Sort of. 'Clarissa's
gone. She's not coming back.'
I had heard of similar cases, even stories of the families of murder
victims going to bat to save the defendant. But I couldn't begin to
understand it. I wondered if they ever saw the videotape of that guy
who killed all those nurses in Chicago. After his capital sentence was
reversed by the Supreme Court, an investigative reporter caught him on
camera in prison, taking drugs, talking up the joys of prison sex, and
boasting to his fellow inmates about the ways his victims begged for
mercy before he strangled them. The death penalty might not be a
deterrent and might cost a hell of a lot more than a life sentence, but
it meant that a victim's parents never had to go to sleep at night
wondering what their kid's murderer was up to. Townsend was telling us
to ignore the only factor that made me hedge on the death penalty a
survivor's need for what's lamely referred to as closure.
Duncan had launched into 'the speech,' the one every prosecutor gets
used to giving, the one where we promise to take into account the
person's feelings about the disposition of a case but explain that the
ultimate decision needs to be on behalf of the entire citizenry. Roger
cut him off.
'I've explained all that to Dr. Easterbrook already, Duncan.'
Griffith gave me a look across the table at the use of his first name.
No one ever said my ex-husband lacked balls.
'Townsend, why don't you wait for me in the lobby?' When the door was
closed, Roger continued. 'I've also explained to
