The New Black Mask ( No 3 )

John Ball Appointment with the Governor

John Ball — the creator of Virgil Tibbs — is a man of parts. He is a lieutenant colonel in the US. Air Force — CAP; he has been on the staffs of the Brooklyn Eagle, the New York World-Telegram, and Fortune. Mr. Ball has written more than thirty books, and he received both the MW A Edgar Allan Poe Award and the CWA Gold Dagger for In the Heat of the Night.

“Appointment with the Governor” originally appeared in Who Done It? a collection edited by Alice Lawrence and Isaac Asimov in which the contributors’ identities were coded. This is the first publication of the story under John Balls name.

It never would have happened at all if Maggie MacDonald had been at her desk as usual. Through four administrations Maggie had presided over the governor’s appointments, and no one could recall that she had ever made a mistake. Because of her unerring ability to keep everything sorted out in proper order, and the acute sixth sense that she sometimes displayed in knowing who should get in and who should be kept away, no one had brought up the matter of her age. There was no one her equal to replace her and if perchance she were technically over the age limit for her job, no one was going to be rude enough to even think about it.

But Maggie had an appointment for her annual physical examination and the person who had been designated to fill in for her was unaccountably late. Which is why Mrs. Willis M. Roberts and Mrs. Chester R. Burke were shown into the same waiting room when every effort should have been made to be sure that they never met. By the time the replacement for Maggie was at her desk the damage had been done. She realized it at once, but there was nothing she could do about it except pray that the two women did not fall into conversation. If that happened…

Meanwhile, the governor’s clemency secretary was standing beside the desk of the state’s chief executive. He was a thoroughly conscientious man, perhaps the single best appointment that the governor had made. He gave his recommendations very carefully and never without a full consideration of the evidence available. If a further investigation was indicated, he was tireless in seeing that it was done properly. He was also a very tough man to lobby. He had the full respect of his associates, the press, and the members of the bar.

As he spoke the governor listened carefully and silently. It was the most important case to come up since the election, and it involved the newly reinstated death penalty. If the execution did go forward as scheduled, it would be the first one under the new law. There was a great deal of public emotion on both sides of the question, but the voters had been decisive in the referendum that restored capital punishment. That was a mandate, and the governor knew it, but it was not going to be allowed to decide the issue.

“I want to know something,” the governor said. “Is there the least possibility that Roberts might be innocent? Could he have been framed? I know such things are done. Could he simply have been in the wrong place at the wrong time?”

The clemency secretary shook his head. “Governor, I can give you my assurance there is no possibility of innocence. After the trial and sentencing, Roberts admitted that he was guilty. That fact was not publicized, but I checked it out and it’s true. Also, he supplied some additional details that the sheriff himself didn’t know.”

“That’s bad,” the governor said.

The clemency secretary nodded, regretfully. “It is,” he agreed. “And now you want my recommendation.”

The governor took a breath and held it for a moment, knowing that a man’s life was at stake.

The clemency secretary spoke calmly and quietly. “I am recommending that clemency be denied. In my own conscience I don’t believe in capital punishment, but it is part of the law and if anyone has ever deserved it, Roberts is the man. I can’t find a single mitigating condition: He wasn’t drunk, under the influence of any drug, or otherwise incapacitated. He killed the little girl in cold blood, knowing what he was doing and the penalty for his crime. He has a long history of violent offenses, many of them sexual in nature. Like Chessman, one of his victims is in a mental hospital, probably permanently. Another, a girl of sixteen, can never have children.”

The governor sat a little straighter. “We aren’t passing judgment here on these offenses. Or the fact that he was on parole at the time he committed the murder. I have to decide this solely on the grounds of the crime for which he was sentenced — to die.”

The clemency secretary fingered a folder that he held, but which he had not opened. “I certainly agree with that,” he said. “I beg your pardon — I should not have brought up the matter of his record. Please ignore it if you can.”

The governor relaxed visibly, reached for a cigarette, and then pushed the pack away. “How about life imprisonment, without possibility of parole? Then he would have to look forward to the rest of his natural life behind bars. Taking away all hope is pretty severe punishment.”

The clemency secretary allowed a moment to pass before he responded to that. When he did, he was quite factual. “I considered that alternative very carefully, Governor, before I made my recommendation. We may say ‘without possibility of parole’ now, but ten or fifteen years hence, under a different administration, he might very well be let go. It has happened, you know.”

For almost a full minute it was stone quiet in the big office. Then the governor asked one more question. “Is there anything else that you haven’t told me — anything you think I should know?”

Again the clemency secretary fingered the folder. “Yes,” he answered. “I have some photographs here. They’re pretty awful. They show something that has been kept completely under cover. One reporter knows it, but he has given his word to keep it to himself. Frankly, they are largely responsible for my recommendation.”

The governor was not one to duck a responsibility, even an extremely unpleasant one. “Let me see the pictures.”

Reluctantly, the clemency secretary handed them over.

The governor looked at them carefully. It was a grisly job, one that brought home for the first time the magnitude of the crime.

“Was the victim tortured?” the governor asked.

“Yes.”

“Badly?”

“Very badly.”

“And she had done nothing to this man to incite him to this kind of horror?”

“Nothing whatever. She was completely innocent. She hadn’t even been taught the basics of human sexuality, only to guard and protect herself.”

“So there’s nothing there.”

“I’m afraid not.”

The governor looked again at the pictures, because the decision to be made was so important. The clemency secretary waited. He had spoken his piece, and he knew enough to remain silent.

“Part of one leg is missing,” the governor noted.

“That’s — the vital point.”

His tone, cautious and careful, was nevertheless decisive. The governor looked up. “Can that mean what I’m thinking?”

The clemency secretary nodded. “Yes, it does. He confessed to that too.”

“Did he say anything — anything at all — to indicate remorse?”

He hated to do it, but the clemency secretary delivered the knockout blow. It was his duty and he would not shun it. “He said she was delicious.”

Ten seconds ticked away. “Clemency refused,” the governor said. “Now show his mother in. I’ll tell her myself.”

The girl sitting in Maggie’s chair could not help it; she had to go to the bathroom. She rose silently from her place and went out quickly with the air of someone who would be back momentarily. When the door had closed behind her the two women who had been waiting were left alone, looking at each other. It was Mrs. Roberts who spoke first. “Are you here about… the Roberts case?” she asked.

Mrs. Burke nodded, quietly and firmly. “Yes, I am. I’m waiting to see the governor.” This was self-evident, but it gave her something to say and she was in need of it.

“Are you a social worker?”

“No, I’m not.” Realizing that that was a trifle brusque, she added, “I work in a computer plant.”

“But you are here about clemency.”

Mrs. Burke’s eyes were suddenly wet. “Yes. I didn’t want to come, but now I know that I must.”

“That’s so good of you.” Mrs. Roberts spoke from her heart; she had had no hope of an ally.

Mrs. Burke was the first to realize. “May I ask… she began.

The other woman nodded. “I’m Mrs. Roberts,” she said very simply. “It’s my son who…”

Mrs. Burke’s first thought was to wonder why they had ever been brought together. She was revolted by the very name “Roberts.” Now to meet like this…

Then she swallowed and remembered the sermon she had heard the day before in church. At the time she had had no idea that it had been prepared with her in mind, to offer some comfort at the most terrible time of her life. The words of the minister came back to her — that the greatest comfort lay in forgiveness. She could never forgive, she doubted if Christ himself could totally forgive if He were placed in her position. But the woman sitting across from her had a heavy cross to bear too. She had spawned a fiend, but the crime itself had not been hers.

She looked at the other woman again and saw comprehension in her eyes. The question came quite simply. “Are you Mrs. Burke?”

“Yes. I am.”

The silence was suddenly intensely thick and heavy; it was broken when Mrs. Roberts reached for a handkerchief. Her tears were open then, and she could do nothing to stop them.

In a way it was a good thing, because Mrs. Burke saw them and through them had some insight into the agonies that the innocent woman opposite her was going through. When the secretary came back to her desk, neither of the women noticed it.

It was Mrs. Roberts who spoke. “I’m… terribly sorry about your little girl. I would give anything… everything I have…”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Burke said. Then she added, “I know what you must be going through. I’m sorry… for you.”

Again it was quiet, and the secretary fervently hoped that the conversation was over. But it wasn’t.

Mrs. Roberts spoke, choosing her words like stepping-stones. “I came to ask the governor to commute the sentence. I know what my son did, and that he can never be allowed to walk the streets again.” She shook her head. “I don’t want him to. I almost killed myself when I found out…”

Mrs. Burke was touched despite herself. She shook her head. “Don’t do anything desperate,” she said. “It won’t help a thing, and it won’t bring my daughter back.” Again she realized how her words sounded. She remembered the sermon and did what her Savior expected of her. “It wasn’t possibly your fault.”

Mrs. Roberts put her thoughts into words to steady herself. “I came here to ask for mercy. You came here to ask that the law… take its course.”

Mrs. Burke would not deny that. “Yes, I came to ask the governor to… not to interfere. I’ve always been opposed…”

Mrs. Roberts understood. “I don’t think that the governor will see one of us and not the other,” she offered.

Mrs. Burke understood what an effort those words had cost. That sermon kept pounding back into her head. Normally she did not listen much to sermons, but on that day of all days, she had hung on every word. And the message had been unmistakable. “Perhaps the governor,” she began. She could not bring herself to withdraw, but she had a firm division by then in her mind between the monster on death row and the desperately unhappy woman who, like her, was waiting to see the governor.

Before she knew what she was doing, Mrs. Burke stood up and crossed the room. “I want you to know,” she said, ”that I understand, a little at least, how you feel.” She sat down.

Mrs. Roberts looked at her. “You must be a wonderful Christian,” she said. She had been thinking a lot about religion, and it had come much closer to the surface for her. Then she added, “If you’re some other faith, you know what I mean.”

Mrs. Burke was genuinely touched. For a bare moment she considered the idea of quietly leaving and letting compassion help the poor woman beside her. Then she remembered, and she could not be that generous. She wanted to, but she couldn’t.

Mrs. Roberts folded her hands in her lap and looked at them. “There’s something I very much want to know,” she said. “I have no right to ask. I’m sorry, forget what I said.”

Mrs. Burke had steeled herself a few moments before. She understood what the question might be, and what the answer might mean to the woman who had the courage to ask it. “What do you want to know?” She put it calmly and factually.

Mrs. Roberts made a supreme effort. “I know that my son is a murderer,” she said, forcing the loathsome words from her lips. Then she dropped her head quite suddenly. “I want to know if he is anything else.”

Mrs. Burke knew it would bring pain, but it vindicated her position and the temptation was too strong. Slowly she nodded. “Yes,” she said.

Mrs. Roberts looked her directly in the face for the first time. “If that is so,” she said, “then perhaps we should see the governor together. And we will both ask…..She broke down into tears totally beyond her control.

The clemency secretary came into the room. Mrs. Burke saw him and knew who he was. “I think the decision has already been made,” she said, “but, yes, let’s go in together.” Because her God wanted her to, she held out her hand and laid it on Mrs. Robert’s arm.

By their wish, they went in together. As they entered the room the governor rose. Seeing the two women together was a nasty shock; too late the clemency secretary tried to signal a warning.

“Please sit down,” the governor said. “Which of you is Mrs. Roberts?”

The lady named lifted her hand just enough to be seen.

“You have met this other lady?”

“Yes, I have. We have been talking, and we decided to come together.”

For a moment or two the governor did not know how to go on; there was no precedent for the situation. If only Maggie…!

The clemency secretary was about to speak when Mrs. Roberts anticipated him by a second or two. “Governor,” she said, “I know you have the power to spare my son. You can commute his sentence to life in prison. Before I ask you to do that, I have a question.”

“Please,” the governor said.

She found the courage to look up. “I happened to meet Mrs. Burke. I learned that she is a very wonderful woman. I know we can never be friends, but… I think you understand.”

“Indeed I do,” the governor confirmed.

“My question is this: Did my son do… terrible things… besides the murder?” She turned quickly to Mrs. Burke. “Please forgive me,” she added.

Mrs. Burke only nodded, waiting for the governor to speak.

“Yes, Mrs. Roberts, I’m very much afraid he did.” That made it a little easier to announce the decision.

“Then,” Mrs. Roberts said, “I won’t ask you for mercy. I know now that I bore a monster, and it’s best if I never see him again. If I never have to worry that some day…”

The governor looked at the other woman. “Mrs. Burke?”

The mother of the slain girl composed herself. “I came to ask you — not to intervene. Instead I would like to ask you to do what you think best.”

The governor turned back to Mrs. Roberts. “Then you are not asking me to commute?”

Very slowly, and with great effort, Mrs. Roberts shook her head. “I can’t now,” she said.

The clemency secretary was about to speak, but the governor silenced him with a slightly raised hand. “Then let it be as you wish.”

Mrs. Roberts looked up, tearfully. “Yes,” she barely whispered. “God is all merciful, so let Him…

The governor got up and came around the desk. It was not an easy time, but at least there was no need to tell this utterly miserable, but completely courageous, woman that her appeal for clemency had been denied. Neither of the women would ever know what the terrible pictures in the folder showed. It had been safely removed before the women had been admitted to the office.

The governor stood before both of the women and spoke with complete sincerity. “Thank you for coming. I’m very glad that you did. And, believe me, I understand and admire both of you. As you know, I’m a mother myself.”

The clemency secretary showed them out.