The 24th Letter

NINETY-SEVEN

O’Brien looked at his watch: 5:57. He called Tucker Houston. “Tucker we have Manerou in police custody. We have the knife he used in the Cole killing. He admitted he killed her and the rest. And he just tried to kill me.”

“I’ve got the Governor’s office on hold. Stand by. I’m putting you on hold. I’ll be right back.

At 5:59 A.M., the black phone rang in the Florida State Prison death chamber. The warden answered, “Warden Stone.

“This is Governor Owen. What’s the status of the prisoner?”

“We’re ready to begin, sir.”

“Don’t. I’m issuing an oral executive order to halt the execution. You’ll have it faxed over momentarily.”

“Yes sir.”

“And Warden Stone, please convey to Mr. Williams our apologies for what he’s been through.”

“Yes, sir.” Warden Stone turned to Charlie Williams and said, “Mr. Williams, you are being removed from death row. The State of Florida will be reviewing your case, sir. Governor Owen sends his apologies.”

Charlie Williams wept. He looked at his reflection in the glass window. He recognized the man he always was.

An innocent man.

“Sean,” said Tucker, “the execution has been stopped. I told the Governor Owens everything. Charlie Williams is alive. We’ll get him out.”

“Thank you, Tucker.”

“You’re the hero in this. I’m glad I was able to play the man behind the curtain for you, the guy to help pull strings to get a few political ears to listen. Talk with you later.”

O’Brien turned to Dan and the deputies. He said, “Execution was stopped. Charlie will be walking soon.” To the two deputies, O’Brien said, “Lock this animal up.”

They nodded and led Manerou, hands cuffed behind his back, to a squad car parked behind Dan’s unmarked car.

Dan said, “Sean, you need to get to the hospital. You’ve lost some blood out of that shoulder.”

“I’ll be okay. Thanks for everything, Dan. I have my Jeep just over there. I can drive myself. Here’s the knife that Manerou used to kill Alexandria. Take it to the lab.”

Dan nodded, took the Tupperware box and walked to his car.

O’Brien stood in front of the statue for a minute. The rain had stopped and the dark clouds rolled across the moon like tumbleweeds. It would be dawn soon. The moon was full. It sat in the sky directly above the angel’s arm, near the tip of her pointing finger.

O’Brien felt weak from the loss of blood. He stared at the statue and the moon in the background. In his mind’s eye, he saw the painting, excerpts from his dream, the angel, Saint John, and he saw the Virgin Mary. He held his bleeding shoulder, shook his head, and tried to concentrate on the statue and the moon in front of him. But within a few seconds, a white cloud folded over the moon like a silk handkerchief.

It was fine, O’Brien told himself. The moon will be back tomorrow night.

And now Charlie Williams will live to see it.