After the Execution (6 page)

I
WAS LEFT
alone for six hours. And it was wonderful. I spent the first hour in the tub, soaking away ten years of prison grime from my body. The water was scorching hot and scented. I could feel my flesh soften.

I drank another two beers and ate three more sandwiches. I slipped on a towelling robe I found in the closet and lolled around watching TV and reading the magazines and newspapers that had been left in the room.

It was surreal. But I wasn’t complaining. Death row had made me appreciate the little things. Like not feeling too hot or too cold. Being able to take a dump without someone peering at me through the door. Having enough space to take more than four paces in any direction.

I tried to play down the sense of unease in my gut. I told myself that whatever was going to happen to me next would have to be better than being dead.

I dropped off to sleep for a couple of hours. The bed was so big and soft that it was hard not to. I had the dream again, the one where Marissa retreats into the house that starts burning down.

I woke up with a jolt, sweat on my face. But the stark images in my head instantly evaporated when I saw the sunlight splashing through the window.

I got up to have a look. The view was of a well-tended garden. The short grass was moist with dew. There was a fence at the bottom of the garden and beyond it a forest of high trees. Above the forest the sky was blue glass.

I gazed out at all the colours of the day. Browns, greens, yellows – and I couldn’t help thinking how lucky I was.

Things started to happen just after ten o’clock. Daniels brought me a breakfast tray that had me salivating. Eggs, bacon, toast, pancakes, hot coffee and orange juice. I stuffed my face until I was so bloated I could barely move. But it felt good. An hour later Vance came back with Daniels in tow. They were both casually dressed in short-sleeved shirts and jeans. Daniels was carrying a small black leather holdall.

I was lying on the bed drinking coffee and watching a movie on TV.

‘It’s time to get this show on the road,’ Vance said. ‘I hope you’re feeling refreshed.’

He pulled a chair up next to the bed and sat down. Daniels stood awkwardly with his back to the door and ran his tongue back and forth across his teeth.

‘So how do you feel?’ Vance asked.

‘Confused,’ I said. ‘But I can live with that.’

‘Have you made the most of the facilities here?’

‘If you mean the beer and the bath and the TV – then you bet I have.’

He grinned. ‘That’s good. It’ll take time to adjust. The shock to your system is immense. We understand that.’

He stroked his jaw and straightened in his chair, as much as the
curvature
of his spine would allow.

‘Your head must be filled with questions,’ he said. ‘And they will all be answered in time. I promise.’

There was a beat of silence, save for the hum of the air-conditioner – a constant white noise.

‘I want to make one thing clear at the outset,’ he said. ‘We don’t care that you murdered Kimberley Crane.’

‘I didn’t murder her,’ I said flatly.

Vance shrugged. ‘For argument’s sake let’s accept that the jury got it right. But I want you to know that it doesn’t matter. As far as we’re concerned you’ve done your time. Killing you would serve no useful purpose now. Especially given the fact that you’re in a unique position to help the FBI and therefore your country.’

‘What’s so special about me?’ I asked.

‘That will be explained to you later today. We’re taking you to see a man who will spell it out and lay the deal on the table. He’ll tell you everything you need to know. Such as which country you will move to and how much money will be put into a bank account in your name. He’ll give you reassurance in respect of how we intend to keep our secret. For instance, the Bureau will wipe your prints and DNA from
the database. So in future if you’re arrested anywhere in the world a guy who should be dead won’t show up on any computer.’

‘What if I’m not happy with the deal you’re offering?’ I said. ‘Or I don’t want to move abroad?’

His grin widened. ‘We’re confident that that scenario won’t arise. We’re offering you a chance to live a full and comfortable life. Probably in South America. The only condition we’ll impose is that you must never contact people from your past life – and that includes your sister.’

‘And if I do?’

His face became serious. ‘Then you’d create a situation that would have to be dealt with. We would take whatever action is necessary to stop that person or persons from passing on that information to someone else.’

He didn’t have to spell it out. If the world suddenly discovered that I was still alive it would cause a media firestorm that would rage across the country. Heads would roll and there would be a series of
high-profile
arrests. The FBI would be seriously damaged and the fall-out would probably even engulf the President. Not to mention my own fate. I would almost certainly find myself back on death row.

All this told me one thing – whatever they wanted me to do for them had to be important enough to justify the incredible risks they were taking.

‘We leave here at 6.30 this evening,’ Vance said. ‘You’ll be meeting the guy I’ve mentioned at a restaurant in the city centre. He insisted on it being informal, which means that you’ve got most of the day to wind down. And it gives us time to prepare you.’

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘You need a makeover,’ Vance said. ‘We can’t have you leaving here looking like Lee Jordan, the guy who just got executed in Huntsville.’

‘So what have you got in mind?’

‘Don’t look so worried,’ he said. ‘It’s nothing drastic. We’re going to cut and dye your hair and provide you with some smart clothes. We want you to wear tinted glasses and fake tan so you don’t look like a guy who’s spent years without going out in the sun.’

He had a point. I’d studied myself in the mirror earlier. My face looked like the blood had been sucked out of it.

‘We’ll start right away,’ he said. ‘Daniels has got everything we need in his bag. After it’s done you can chill out and you can have a taste of freedom in the garden.’

Vance was an impressive guy, I decided. He possessed a shrewd, calculating intelligence that showed in his eyes. But I didn’t know him well enough to be able to read his face beyond that. So I had no idea if he was telling me the truth. For that reason a simmering unease
continued
to erode my optimism.

Daniels turned out to be pretty nifty with the comb and scissors. I’d let my hair grow long on death row so he cut quite a bit off. Then he applied the dye, which turned my dark brown hair to black. It made me look considerably younger. The fake tan I applied myself, which was fairly easy and made an instant difference. In the mirror I looked like a new man.

True to his word, Vance then let me go out into the garden. He and Daniels stayed close to me and we didn’t encounter anyone else. From the garden I saw that I was being kept in a large detached house
surrounded
by Texas woodland. It was a beautiful red-brick building with a slanted grey roof.

But I barely paid attention to it because my senses were seized by our surroundings. The trees and the grass and the buzz of the insects. The smell of wild flowers and the gentle breeze on my face. I felt a shiver of excitement and my heart started thumping against my ribcage. As I stood there taking it in I thought to myself that it was surely all too good to be true.

B
ETH LOOKED PALE
and anxious when Crane got to her apartment at lunchtime. She was still wearing her jogging suit and had not applied any make-up. He noticed immediately that she smelled of stale sweat.

‘I didn’t think you would come,’ she said.

‘Pauline wasn’t happy,’ he told her. ‘She’d made arrangements for us to have lunch out and then go shopping.’

‘I’m really sorry, Gideon.’

Pauline had been furious, in fact. She’d reminded him that he had promised to take a few days off. And she’d been more than a little
sceptical
when he’d said that an emergency had come up at the office. But he’d felt compelled to come to Beth’s apartment. He needed to assess the situation for himself and decide what, if anything, could be done about it. He was worried because her diary had not turned up and she swore that she had searched every inch of the apartment.

‘You’re sure that nothing else was taken?’ he asked as he perched himself on the arm of the sofa.

‘I’m absolutely positive,’ she said. ‘Things had been moved around. A drawer was left open. But it seems that whoever broke in wasn’t
interested
in anything but my diary.’

Crane sucked in his breath. ‘I wish you’d mentioned it before. I would have told you that it was stupid to keep one.’

‘I realize that now, but it never occurred to me that someone would steal it. I’ve never taken it out of the apartment.’

Crane chewed on a thumbnail, his stomach churning with dread. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Not when things seemed to be going so well. His fears were compounded by the fact that there was very little he could do about it.

He didn’t think it would be a good idea to contact the police. That way the news would spread like wildfire and speculation would be rife. Questions would be asked as to why anyone would want to steal Beth Abbot’s diary. Did it contain explosive information about her job, her boss or her personal life? Crane liked to be in control of events that impacted on his life and right now he wasn’t. He felt angry and impotent.

He gritted his teeth. ‘Jesus fucking Christ, Beth.’

The fury in his voice made her flinch. As she looked up at him a muscle under her right eye started to twitch. It was the first time he had shouted at her but she needed to understand that she’d let him down big time. A diary for pity’s sake. Who the fuck kept a diary in this day and age?

At that moment his cell pinged. He fished it from his pocket, thinking it was bound to be a message from his pissed-off wife. But it was from an anonymous source. It read:
What a night. Gideon told me he loved me. Then we fucked like rabbits on the floor of his apartment. Later I sucked his cock as he spoke to Pauline on the phone. Life just doesn’t get any better!

‘What the hell is this crap?’ Crane fumed.

He thrust the phone at Beth. She took it from him. The colour drained from her face as she read the text.

‘Oh my God,’ she exclaimed.

Crane glared at her. ‘What?’

She swallowed hard. ‘It’s an extract from my diary. I wrote that months ago.’

Crane’s mouth fell open and his heart froze in his chest.

‘Oh shit,’ he said.

I
SPENT MOST
of the afternoon pacing the room, feeling restless and edgy. My mind resolutely refused to switch off.

It was a great shame because I should have been spoiling myself. The fridge had been restocked with a few more beers and snacks. Daniels had also delivered some more newspapers and magazines. And there were dozens of TV channels to keep me entertained.

Eventually Daniels returned carrying a beige summer suit, a dark blue shirt and a pair of brown leather shoes. He told me to get showered and dressed.

‘We’ll be leaving in half an hour,’ he said. ‘And cheer up, Mr Jordan. This is where your new life begins.’

Mr Jordan! It sounded weird. It had been a long time since anyone had been so respectful towards me.

As I got ready I felt the excitement build. I thought about all the wonderful things I might now experience and all the paths that were going to open up to me. A new life. A new identity. A new country. Not bad for a man who only hours ago had been led into the execution chamber to be put to death.

But it wasn’t easy to focus just on the positive. I couldn’t totally ignore an underlying uneasiness – a vague sense of disquiet that refused to go away.

At six thirty I stood in front of the mirror and found it hard to believe that it was me staring back. I was a complete stranger. Smart and respectable. Tanned and well-groomed. I was pretty sure that even my sister wouldn’t recognize me.

‘The transformation is amazing,’ Vance said when he came into the
room. ‘Nobody would guess you’re a dead man walking.’

‘Very funny,’ I said.

Vance was wearing a black suit and carrying a black leather
briefcase
. He motioned for me to follow him outside.

There were two cars parked in front of the building. One was a grey Dodge Durango with darkened windows. The other was a silver Taurus. I counted four guys standing to one side smoking. One of them was Daniels. They were all wearing dark suits and they all snapped to attention when Vance and I stepped outside.

Daniels opened the rear door of the Dodge and Vance told me to get in. He climbed in beside me and Daniels got behind the wheel. The other guys got into the Taurus.

‘So let’s go,’ Vance said.

The Dodge followed a long, gravel driveway to an automatic gate that opened as we approached it. The Taurus stayed close behind.

‘What’s with the muscle?’ I asked. ‘You afraid I might take off?’

Vance shook his head. ‘You’re not that stupid, Lee. You know there’d be no point. But you’re a precious cargo and we have to make sure you’re well protected.’

‘Do they all know who I am?’

He shook his head. ‘They think you’re some nameless dude on our witness protection programme.’

This whole thing was becoming more puzzling. The questions were piling up inside my head. Why the hell was I so important to the FBI? Who was going to meet me in the restaurant? What did they want me to do for them? Why was I the only person who could do it?

So many thoughts were rattling around inside my brain that it was making me dizzy. As we passed through the gate onto the road I
experienced
a frisson of unease. Every muscle in my body felt taut and the blood was pounding in my ears.

There were plenty of distractions, though, and I tried to focus on them. I stared out of the window and drank in the sights, which became more interesting the further we travelled from the house. At first there wasn’t much to see other than a few houses set back from the road. But after about five minutes the buildings started to bunch up and I
realized
that we were pretty close to the city.

It was already dark and the moon looked small, as though it were moving away from the earth. As we veered onto a freeway I saw a familiar landmark in the distance – the Tower of the Americas, which
stretches 750ft above San Antonio.

Marissa and I had spent a weekend in the city early on in our
relationship
. We’d ventured up to the tower’s observation deck from where the views are spectacular. We’d also visited all the other major tourist attractions, including the Alamo and the River Walk, with its various restaurants and bars.

It had been a wonderful couple of days during which we’d talked and walked and got to know each other. The memory brought tears to my eyes and I couldn’t help wondering if Marissa could see me now. Would she be happy that I was still alive or sad that I wasn’t with her?

‘We’ll soon be at the restaurant,’ Vance said. ‘It’s in the downtown area. How are you holding up?’

I looked at him. ‘Pretty well, I guess. I just want to know what’s going on.’

‘And you will soon enough. As I said before, all of your questions will be answered and your concerns addressed.’

‘This guy I’m meeting – is he FBI?’

‘He’ll tell you himself who he is.’

‘Why can’t you tell me?’

‘Because I’ve been ordered not to. That’s the way it has to be. There’s a lot at stake here and we all have to do exactly what we’ve been told to do. We can’t afford any mistakes. I’m sure you can appreciate that.’

A few minutes later we were in the heart of the city and driving past the Alamo – that long-standing symbol of American freedom. Along with most other Texans, the old mission held a special place in my heart. It was where almost two hundred volunteers, including Davy Crockett, died at the hands of Santa Anna’s Mexican army in the great battle for independence.

‘It brings a lump to my throat every time I pass it,’ Vance said, and I believed him.

Less than two minutes later, Daniels pulled the Dodge to a stop outside a brightly-lit restaurant called The Cactus Flower.

‘This is the place,’ Vance said.

I released a slow breath and gritted my teeth. It looked like a classy joint. There were large windows through which I could see inside and it was pretty busy.

‘Just go in and ask for Mr Martinez. He’s inside.’

‘Are you not coming?’ I asked, surprised.

‘No. But we’ll be waiting out here to take you back to the house.’

I glanced at the restaurant and then up and down the street.

‘Just walk slowly and casually,’ Vance said. ‘You’ll be fine. And I want you to take this.’ He handed me his briefcase which had been pushed between the seats. ‘You’ll look like you just finished a hard day at the office.’

Something just didn’t feel right, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. My heart started to thunder against my chest.

‘You’ll be perfectly safe,’ Vance said. ‘See the guy standing in the doorway to the right? Well he’s one of ours and he’s there to make sure that nothing goes wrong.’

The guy was wearing a dark top with a hood so I couldn’t see his face.

‘Go on, Lee,’ Vance said. ‘Go and find out what we want you to do for us in return for bringing you back to life.’

I got out of the car and closed the door behind me. It was a cool, clear evening and the pavement was empty except for the guy in the hood. I could hear music coming from inside the restaurant and could see several people at window tables. One guy actually acknowledged me with a wave. He had jet black hair and was wearing a white jacket. He was Hispanic, probably Mexican. I reckoned he must be the mysterious Mr Martinez.

I threw a glance back at the Dodge but I couldn’t see Vance through the darkened window. So I took a deep breath and started walking towards the entrance, briefcase gripped in my right hand, glasses resting on the bridge of my nose.

I told myself to stay calm. The Feds were not going to let anything happen to me. Not after going to all that trouble to stop me being executed.

I just had to go inside and hear what the guy had to say. Simple and straightforward.

But then something happened that I didn’t see coming.

The Dodge suddenly pulled away from the curb with a loud screech of tyres. I spun round and saw it speeding along the road away from the restaurant.

At the same time I noticed that the hooded guy had stepped out of the doorway and was standing a few yards behind me. He was holding a revolver in his outstretched hand and it was aimed at my chest.

A chill of fear swept through me as he squeezed the trigger and the gun flashed and roared.