‘No, no.’ Jac shook his head. ‘That’s what we’re trying to avoid. That’s the whole point of this clemency plea now. To hopefully get the Governor to commute the sentence.’
‘And what if you don’t succeed, Mr McElroy? And we let young Josh get sucked into this in the hope of keeping his father alive — only for it to fail. And, job well done, he gets close enough to give his father real hope to want to live again. That closeness and hope, that’s all going to get to the boy, too.’ Francine grimaced tautly. ‘Make him do this, and the loss of his father is going to hit him like a freight train.’
‘It’s going to hit the boy hard anyway, Mrs Durrant.’
She snorted. ‘Yeah, but it’s going to be ten times harder if we get Josh close and build up his hopes that his father might actually live.’
When Jac had phoned Francine Durrant earlier, she’d initially refused to see him, saying that she had a new man and new life now. ‘ And that old life always drags us back, makes our new life more difficult to get on with. Even more so from my new partner’s point of view — he won’t stand for it for a minute.’ He’d had to push hard to get the meeting, tell her about her husband’s death-wish and its apparent link to lack of contact with Joshua. ‘ So while I understand your resentment, if it goes as far as actually wanting to see Larry die — then, fine, don’t see me.’ Hearing Francine Durrant’s heavy sigh, her conscience wrestling with the demons that had no doubt already ripped her apart during these past eleven years — Jac had felt guilty using the sledgehammer approach. But now, he realized, it might take more of the same to finally shift her stance.
‘I take your point, Mrs Durrant. It’s not ideal to have Josh get close at this juncture. But then probably anythinghe does at this stage is going to be far from ideal. If he cuts himself off from his father and has little contact — do you think he’s going to feel any better?’ Jac’s eyes searched hers for a moment before she looked down. Possible concession. ‘Probably not. In fact, he might even feel worse — knowing that he purposely kept his distance and had no contact in those vital final weeks of his father’s life.’
‘I appreciate that, too.’ Francine closed her eyes for a second. ‘But the way we looked at it, that option was the lesser of two evils.’
‘The lesser of two evils?’ Jac repeated with a questioning tone. ‘Is that what it’s come down to now between your son and his father? And what if your son finds out at some later stage that his lack of contact in those final weeks was the main reason his father didn’t want a clemency plea made on his behalf?’
Francine closed her eyes for a moment again, chewing at her lip. ‘He won’t find out. He’ll neverknow.’ When she opened her eyes again, she kept them slightly averted. She didn’t want Jac to see what lay there.
‘He’ll never know?’ Jac’s repetition had now become faintly mocking. ‘There’s going to be a fair bit of media coverage of this, maybe even some books, too. It’s pretty rare that a prisoner doesn’t want clemency put in on his behalf, in fact wantsto die. Gary Gilmore was the last, if I remember right. That generated countless articles and books, people were still debating it years later. And one of the key questions raised is always whythey wanted to die? You think all of that’s going to happen without your son ever finding out?’
‘It’ll only be the first year or so, I can keep it hidden from him for that time.’ Francine fought for conviction to mask the desperation of the comment. She took a fresh breath. ‘Besides, as you say, and I also know from bitter past experience — Larry is always so close-mouthed. No way is he going to admit that his wanting to die is down to his son not making contact. He’s going to say just what he told you: that he’s simply sick of facing more time in prison, and this is his going to God. His “Ascension Day”.’
Give her credit, she was standing her ground well. Jac nodded and held a palm out.
‘That as may be. But there’s always people like Roddy Rodriguez keen to speak out.’ Jac knew that he was on more uncertain ground here. It had been hard to prise from Rodriguez the family backdrop to Durrant’s death-wish. It was unlikely he’d speak so openly to journalists. ‘And even if that wasn’t the case — you’dalways know. Something that might prey on your mind every time you look at Joshua.’
But as Francine looked at him directly and Jac saw the fiery spark there, he knew that he’d stepped too far.
‘Don’t you dare lay that on me. I’ve done nothing butthink of Larry practically every time I’ve looked at the boy these past eleven years — so another ten or twenty isn’t going to make much difference. And it’s not just that his father’s been locked away practically since he was born that I’m reminded of when I look at Joshua. All those taunts and jibes at school he’s had to shoulder through the long years. You know what I’m reminded of most when I look at him?’
Jac shook his head and quietly mouthed, ‘No’, his voice suddenly choked of any strength.
‘What I’m reminded of most is the promise that Larry made when Joshua was born: that he wouldn’t — cross his heart and hope to die — do any more robberies. He couldn’t face doing time again and spending even a minute away from the boy. Especially now we were both depending on him so heavily. And just three months later, he’s in the Roche house — and, who knows, maybe even other robberies in between. Maybe he never stopped. Did you happen to know that too, Mr McElroy, about the solemn promise Larry made to his family?’
‘Yes. Yes, I did.’ Jac looked down slightly, as if he was somehow ashamed of sharing that knowledge.
‘And did Larry himself tell you about that?’
‘No. It was Rodriguez again.’
Some of the fire eased and the sly smile was back. ‘At least he’s consistent. The Stone Mountain remains close-mouthed till the end. He might have found God, but he’s certainly not found his tongue.’
‘I know how you must feel, Mrs Durrant. And you’ve got every right to feel angry for what he did, and the consequences that you and Joshua have had to endure.’ Jac felt immediately at a loss for just how to fight back. All he could think of was placating so that at least she was more receptive when he finally found the right words. He glanced quickly at his watch: only six or eight minutes before her partner was due back. ‘But the thing is, I…’ Jac broke off as she looked sharply over her shoulder, and he too picked up on a faint shuffling in the hallway in that instant. She’d packed Joshua off to his room when Jac first arrived with the strict instruction not to disturb them. Either the boy had come out of his room or her partner was home early.
‘Joshua, is that you there?’ she called out.
They heard more shuffling that sounded as if someone was moving further away along the hallway. Then, ‘Yes… I was just getting a drink from the kitchen.’
‘Okay. Well, you head back to your room now. Leave us private like I said.’
She waited patiently until she heard his footsteps fully recede and his bedroom door click shut again. But as she looked back at Jac, her face was slightly flushed, and he could imagine what she was thinking: how long had the boy been close by in the hallway, and had he overheard any of their conversation?