Chapter 1
Jill Sheppard sat alone in the room waiting for death to strike. Because she had set her watch carefully, she knew that death was now exactly six minutes away. It was now five minutes before midnight. At one minute after midnight, the population of the world would be reduced by one.
There was not the vague timing of death by sickness or accident. Only fate operates that way, or God, if there is a God, Jill told herself. This death would be more precise because it had been decreed by the state and would be carried out by the state.
A minute ago or a month ago or a lifetime ago, the all powerful state had made a God-like decision that would snuff out a life just six minutes from now.
Drawing itself up to its full political, fallible, height, it said:
"You, Jill Sheppard will become a widow at one minute after midnight on some terrible night. Your two lovely children will no longer have a father after that time. The love this good man had for you will be burned to nothingness; the love you feel for him will become love for a ghost, a thing that was but no longer is."
There were other things the state could have said. It could have said...."This is an election year ... we needed a victim ... A young flower of Southern womanhood has been murdered and we must have revenge ... Don't fight, this isn't anything personal ... We couldn't kill one of us, we needed an outsider ... You were an outsider, you shouldn't have come here ... Go away, Jill ... When we kill your husband, don't stay here, you will embarrass us ... You just don't understand our way of life ... Go away so that we can live without shame."
The state didn't say those things though. The things it said were neat and precise and completely legal. The law is like that, it can deprive a man of his life, deprive a woman of her husband, a children of their father, and still make it seem somehow right and just.
There are only two minutes to go now, Jill.
Try to understand how important the state is. Try to be reasonable. Your husband is only one man, you are only one woman, your children are too young to understand. See how many people the state represents.....See Mac die ... see Jill cry ... see the nice big state ... the nice big, strong state is always right ... see Mac die ... see Jill cry ... they are very, very funny ... ha ... ha ... ha....
It is midnight now, Jill. There is just one minute to go. Why do you cry, Jill? Do you not love the state? Did you love one man more than the state? You are not patriotic Jill.
We are very humane when we kill ... We do not only kill your man ... we partially cook him ... We use nice strong straps to hold him in the nice comfortable chair so he will not fly out when the current hits him ... He could be bruised that way ... We are nice people, Jill ... Like us Jill ... See Jill like us ... See us kill Jill's husband....
It is one minute after midnight, Jill ... Your man is dying now ... It is too bad, Jill ... We are wrong, of course, but it is so nice and neat ... Try to understand, Jill ... Jill is unreasonable ... She will not understand....
See Jill cry ... See Jill scream ... Jill screams very loudly ... Jill screams as if her heart is breaking ... Poor Jill ... Why does Jill scream for her man? ... He is dead ... Why does she scream for her children? ... They do not know ... Why does Jill not scream for herself? ... Jill loves the man we are killing....
Foolish Jill ... Stop screaming, Jill ... Your screams make us nervous, Jill ... We are very just and very fair and very humane ... We kill very nicely, Jill ... Why do you scream, Jill ... It is an ugly sound ... We do not like ugliness ... We like only nice things like killing your husband ... Do not scream, Jill ... Cry, do not scream ... Walk do not run....
Very well, Jill, you may scream ... Louder, Jill ... Scream hard ... See how kind we are, Jill? ... We permit you to scream even though we do not like it ... The state is very kind, Jill ... see the very kind state ... hear the screaming Jill ... Scream Jill scream....
Your husband is dead now, Jill.
Scream Jill scream. He cannot hear you. He is dead.
Jill was only vaguely aware of a weight on the edge of the bed. She felt the strong, gentle hand on her back and shoulders.
It was Bob Darrow, she knew. He would not hold her, because he knew that that was a right reserved for her husband. He could only sit beside her and cry with her and let her know she was not alone.
Gentle, understanding Bob. He had gone along with her request 'to be alone during those terrible moments while Mac was dying so that her spirit could join his in that lonely chair.
Now that it was over, now that death had come and gone, he would sit silently beside her in the quiet room in his brother's house and watch while she cried. It was all he could do, so he would do it.
Later, Jill knew, if she wanted to talk, he would listen. He wouldn't tell her not to cry, wouldn't tell her to forget and forgive. He would just be there to do what he could as he had been from the beginning.
Sleep, she knew would be the answer to many things, many hurts, but it would not come. There was a stronger hurt and even though it brought a strange numbness with it, it would not permit sleep.
Instead, she could only think, only retrace the weird steps of an unkind fate that had killed a good man and left her and their children without his love and his strength and his goodness.
Perhaps, she thought, if I go over it all again, I can find some reason, some consolation to justify the legal murder of a good man. Jill didn't really want to go over it again, she had done it too often, but there was no defense against it.
Her mind picked her up then and took her back to the beginning. She would have to be a reluctant spectator once again and see it all happen while she watched and cried.