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Category: A/JMPL
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up to IOTH
Summary: Sequel to Never No More
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and am just playing around with them.
Note: Includes lyrics of the song “Folsom Prison Blues” by Johnny Cash.
Folsom Prison Blues
By Madame Estrella
“He’s right down this way, Dr. Lecter. No relation huh?” The guard said looking back at Jarod and chuckling at his own witticism.
Jarod nodded and followed the guard through another guard station toward the visitor area. They were in the high max area of the Delaware Penitentiary where the most violent felons were held.
“Actually, it would make sense to have Hannibal Lecter talk to this guy; he’s a real crazy. I’ve heard all sorts of terrible things about this guy.” The guard continued as they got close enough to hear sounds. Singing.
“I hear the train a-comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend, and I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when, I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on. But that train keeps a-rollin' On down to San Antone. “ The voice in the distance sang, but Jarod recognized it.
“And he keeps singing that damn song!” The guard exclaimed, stopping to open a door. “The other prisoners would love to do something about it but the last guy who tried lost a finger.”
“Lost a finger?” Jarod asked.
“Yeah, he bit it clean off.” The guard replied. “You can imagine what some of the guys are saying that he’s going to order for his last meal.”
“Chinese.” Jarod muttered to himself.
“Huh?” The guard said turning to look at him questioningly.
“Nothing.” Jarod replied.
“Well, here it is. Remember that you pass nothing to the prisoner and you take nothing from the prisoner. Stay away from the glass at all times.” The guard said. “Have a good time, Dr. Lecter.”
Jarod nodded and took a few steps toward the cubicle and sat in the chair without looking at the man. He pulled a red notebook out of his satchel and then looked up at the glass.
“Hello, hello.” Mr. Lyle grinned at him. “I was wondering when you’d pony up the cahoneys to come up here.”
“Pony up the what?” Jarod replied, dumbfounded.
“Never mind.” Lyle replied. He straightened his orange jumper and leaned forward. “So, I guess the Centre hasn’t caught you yet, huh?”
“It would appear not.” Jarod replied.
“So why did you come?” Lyle replied. “Pardon my frankness, Jarod, but my time is coming to an end.”
Jarod nodded. In thirty-six hours, the man known to the world as Mr. Lyle, the serial killer that only exists in flesh would be executed. The media was going wild with his case. The State of Delaware was going to execute a man who didn’t even have a social security number, and he wasn’t talking to anyone.
“I came for answers.” Jarod replied. Lyle sat back and chuckled.
“Answers? After what you did to me, I’m taking those answers to the grave.” Lyle spat back. He glared at Jarod momentarily, and then his expression became a serene one.
“However, I suppose I have the upper hand. I know my fate. I know exactly where when and how I’m going to die. You have to meander through the rest of your life, not even knowing how yours started.” Lyle smirked.
“I can help you.” Jarod replied.
“You can help me.” Lyle laughed. “Did you bake me a cake with a saw in it?”
“Of course not!” Jarod said. “Something like that would never make it through the metal detectors.”
“Then how?” Lyle replied shaking his head.
“You haven’t filed any appeals.” Jarod replied.
“So what? You want to file an eleventh hour insanity Hail Mary defense plea?” Lyle grinned. “No, Jarod. It’s a sweet gesture but if you were really interested in what I had to say, you wouldn’t have put me here in the first place.”
“You could testify against the Centre.” Jarod replied.
“I’m resigned to my fate, Jarod. In fact, it’s a relief.” Lyle said.
Jarod stared at the man for a few, long moments. Then he finally shook his head.
“Why?” Jarod said.
“Because I’m evil.” Lyle said drawing out each word. “Hey, you still have Raines.”
“I can’t believe that you didn’t even fight this.” Jarod said quietly. Lyle cocked his head at him and made a sympathetic expression.
“Aww. Are you saying that you’re disappointed with me? Are you going to miss me, Jarod? I mean, I could see why. We did have some good times together.” Lyle said, and then chuckled.
“There was that time when I shocked you with the jumper cables and then you came right back and were going to try and do the same. But you didn’t. I guess that’s the difference between you and I. You never had what it took to go the extra mile, Jarod. You ...” Lyle began but Jarod cut him off.
“Have some morality.” Jarod growled and then looked sheepishly at the guard.
“What are you supposed to be here anyway?” Lyle asked.
“A psychiatrist.” Jarod replied.
“What name are you using?” Lyle said, sitting forward.
“Lecter.” Jarod replied and Lyle howled with laughter.
“Lecter!” Lyle gasped between laughs. “Oh boy, that’s good. Right up there with Ness, and Ellis.”
Jarod shoved the notebook back into the satchel and went to stand. Lyle stopped laughing and looked at him seriously.
“You know you’re the first visitor I’ve had.” Lyle said. “And that means something to me. You know, Jarod, I will tell you this, I am sorry that I killed, Kyle.”
Jarod put the satchel at his feet. He looked back at Lyle’s stoic expression.
“You are?” Jarod asked.
“Yeah. I mean, I was trying to kill you instead. Aside from that I think that Kyle and I would’ve gotten along well together in another life. We certainly had a lot in common.” Lyle replied.
“I would like to think that Kyle would have been a good person had the Centre never gotten a hold of him.” Jarod replied.
“Ditto.” Lyle said. “It was nice seeing a familiar face around here, even if it had to be yours.”
Jarod nodded and Lyle called his attention back to him.
“Just think about this, Jarod. The next time you kiss my sister, remember that she and I are basically the same person.” Lyle sneered. Jarod shook his head in disgust.
Lyle stood and walked to the back of his cage and leaned back against it. A guard came and snapped some cuffs on his wrists and then opened the cage and led him away.
Jarod looked after him for a few moments and then turned to walk back toward the exit. As he walked through the door he could hear Lyle singing.
“When I was just a baby, my mama told me. "Son, always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns." But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry. “
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“I must be a popular guy.” Lyle chimed as he entered the cage once again. He dropped his hilarity and flashed a wry grin at the woman in the chair opposite him.
“Miss Parker.” Lyle said. She nodded. She drew a deep breath and sat a little straighter in her chair.
“You just missed your boyfriend.” Lyle sneered.
“My what?” She snapped.
“Jarod. He was here for some last minute taunting, as I can imagine you came for as well.” Lyle replied. “So, why did the victim come to see her brother on the last day?”
She drew a deep breath.
“Prison hasn’t changed you at all, Lyle.” She snapped.
“Did you expect it to?” He replied.
“I suppose not.” She said and then looked at her feet. “Do you have any regrets at all, Lyle?” She asked meeting his eyes again. He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.
“Sure. I have some regrets.” He said. He smiled a little. “I regret being sent here for one.” She sighed at him impatiently.
“So what do you think Hell is going to be like?” She said, narrowing her eyes.
“I’ll let you know in a vision or whatever the hell it is you have.” Lyle replied.
Her face fell and she held back a small sob. Lyle looked at her sadly.
“Don’t come here and cry at me on the last day when I haven’t seen or heard from you since the trial.” He said angrily. She burst into tears and wiped at her face.
“I hate you, Lyle!” She cried. “You’re such a bastard! How in the hell can you be my twin?” She drew a breath and regained a little composure.
“That’s probably the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He replied. She shook her head.
“This was a mistake.” She said and went to get up.
“I regret this.” He said. She sat back down and looked at him.
“What?” She asked.
“I regret this happening to us. You know, in a perfect world we would have grown up together, and maybe even would have liked each other.” He said. She smiled a little.
“I regret not being with my son the most.” He said. “Yes, he is mine and Brigitte’s, not some crazy Centre experiment and certainly not our brother.”
A few more tears fell from Miss Parker’s eyes and she wiped them away.
“Take care of him.” Lyle said. She nodded quietly. “And do something for the Bowmans if you would.”
There was a long silence between them. Lyle rubbed the skin on his left hand where his other thumb would have been.
“What do you think our mother would have thought of me?” Lyle asked quietly.
“I couldn’t say.” Miss Parker replied.
“No, I suppose not. You know I can’t imagine her with Raines.” He said.
“What do you mean?” She replied.
“Well, he is our father, I mean, do the math. I just can’t see what she saw in that old oxygen dragging ghoulish old bastard.” He replied. She broke into a smile and chuckled.
“Well, he didn’t always have the oxygen tank.” She replied.
“But still!” Lyle replied. “He had to have drugged her or something!” They were both laughing. “What, what would he say? Oh baby; let me take you up a sublevel!” Lyle said and then began laughing uncontrollably. Miss Parker put a hand over her mouth but couldn’t hold back a burst.
They laughed for a while and then regained their composure, realizing they were still in the prison and Lyle was scheduled to die the next day.
“Just remember what a terrible person I am when they put that needle in my arm tomorrow.” Lyle said. “Remember that the State of Delaware is doing the world a favor and that we have the death penalty because of people like me.”
They sat in silence for a few more moments and then the guard came over to Lyle’s cage.
“I’m sorry, sis.” Lyle said. He stood and allowed them to cuff him again and then lead him away.
As she left she could hear him singing and she smiled. Lyle had the strangest sense of humor.
“I bet there's rich folks eatin' in a fancy dining car. They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars, but I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free, but those people keep a-movin', and that's what tortures me.”
“Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine, I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line, far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay, and I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away. “
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The following evening, some guards arranged the chairs in the viewing gallery neatly as others ran the janitor through the rehearsal execution. Tensions were high inside the prison as well as in the world surrounding it.
Death penalty protesters had gathered outside the prison and were screaming their protests to all that would listen. Death penalty supporters lined the street across from them cheering the state for putting down such a terrible person.
The media reported that the man known as Mr. Lyle had a last meal consisting of pepper steak, rice, sweet and sour chicken, and pistachio ice cream.
The media also spotlighted the debate between the death penalty supporters and protesters. Then they went into the hot story.
How could the State of Delaware execute a man who didn’t legally exist anywhere? How could such a person slip through the cracks his entire life without ever generating a paper trail only to be locked up after committing the atrocities he had?
They told the Mr. Lyle story. Mr. Lyle worked for The Centre a think tank in Blue Cove, Delaware. While under their employment he’d committed the serial kidnapping and murders of eleven Asian women in the area. He was reportedly linked to the murders of another Asian woman in Las Vegas, Nevada, two young college exchange students in Virginia, and two prostitutes in Cambodia.
They also reported on the two visitors who had seen Mr. Lyle the previous day. The only visitors he’d had since he was arrested at his apartment twenty-seven months before. One was a psychiatrist, Dr. Jarod Lecter, who was unavailable for comment. The other had been Mr. Lyle’s sister, Miss Parker, who he’d held prisoner and attempted to murder. She had also been unavailable for comment.
@@@@@
Lyle sat on the bunk in his cell. He hadn’t bothered sleeping, what was the point? Was it necessary that he be nice and rested for his death? He’d held onto his resolve through the whole process.
He’d been arrested and he’d remained calm. He’d gone to trial and he’d remained calm. He’d been convicted and he’d remained calm. Now he was going to die, and they’d shot him full of tranquilizers so he didn’t have to try anymore.
The only thing in the world that he wanted was to see his son. The son he and Brigitte had brought into this world. He was the same child who’d been whisked away by Cox in the wake of Brigitte’s death and wasn’t seen again.
They’d kept his son from him as a means of control and he’d known it. And then they’d all but handed him to the authorities when Jarod had turned him in.
He wondered if his son had his or Brigitte’s eyes. He would be three now. He’d be talking, calling someone else daddy and mommy. Lyle looked at his hands a he clasped them in his lap.
He wasn’t going to break down like Miss Parker had the day before. Why had she broken down? It was only he. He supposed that she felt guilty on some level.
And Jarod had thought that he’d just break down and give him all the answers he wanted. If Lyle was going to die without ever seeing his son, he’d be damned if he’d just blurt out where Jarod’s mother was to make himself not look like such a bad guy in the end.
The priest came in and sat down with Lyle. He smiled at the old man. His confidant. The man he’d confessed all his sins to. Lyle would die knowing that he’d answered to God at least for all he had done. He’d said his hundred thousand Hail Mary’s and had left a donation to the church in his will.
He knelt with the old man and prayed.
“Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever, amen.”
@@@@@
Miss Parker sat between Broots and Sydney. Raines sat in front of them and she almost laughed again when she remembered Lyle’s impression of him the day before. Then she remembered why she was sitting there, staring at the glass window.
The room was full of friends and families of the victims. They spoke in both English and their native languages about Lyle.
“Monster.”
“This had been long past due.”
“I wish they could kill him twice.”
Miss Parker almost jumped as she felt the hand curl around hers. She looked down at it and then up at Sydney. She smiled weakly at him and he smiled back at her.
Moments later, the curtain was opened and they all saw Lyle strapped to the table in heavy restraints. He lay, staring at the ceiling.
A voice asked if he had anything to say. He nodded slightly and turned his head and raised it a little to look at the window they watched him through.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He said quietly and then returned to staring at the ceiling.
The IV was started into his arm. Miss Parker watched as Lyle slowly closed his eyes.
Suddenly she found herself standing over the table, staring down at him. She looked up and saw her mother smile weakly back at her. Then their mother looked down at Lyle and gently stroked his hair.
“My Bobby.” She said. “What did they do to you?”
Miss Parker burst into tears as she watched Lyle’s breathing slow and eventually stop altogether. Her mother looked back at her with tears streaming down her face.
“Never let this happen again.” She said, choking back her tears. She then burst into sobs and laid her head on her dead son’s chest, her own heaving uncontrollably.
Miss Parker remained in her seat long after the curtains were closed and the families had left. Sydney finally tugged her free of her vision and she slowly rose with his help.
@@@@@
Sydney had reluctantly left her once he’d driven her home. He’d insisted that she stay with him and she’d declined. She wanted to be in her family’s house. The house where the memory of her mother lived.
She took the bottle of scotch and a glass into her mother’s study. She sat on the couch and stared up through the skylight at the stars. She refilled her glass and relived the memory of the execution.
“Mom would have loved you.” She said. The tears fell from her eyes again.
She wasn’t startled when Jarod walked in and took a seat beside her. She felt his eyes on hers and then his too drifted to the skylight.
“He couldn’t fake that death.” Miss Parker said after a long time.
“No.” Jarod replied.
“I’m glad you came.” She said. “I think on some level, Lyle was too.”
“Yeah.” He said.
“You’re usually the talker, Jarod.” She said. Turning to him. He faced her and took her hand in his.
“I killed a man tonight.” Jarod replied. “Your brother.”
“The State of Delaware killed my brother.” She said. She wiped a tear away before it got too far down her cheek. “I killed him too.”
“He was ready for it though.” Jarod replied.
“He wanted to know his son.” Miss Parker said. “When he was lying there I could hear him saying it over and over.”
“Your inner sense.” Jarod said. She nodded.
“Then I saw mom standing over him, watching him die. She told me not to let it happen again.” She replied.
“Not to let what happen again?” Jarod asked.
“I guess that’s what we’re supposed to find out.” She said. “After I take care of some things.”
“For Lyle?” Jarod asked. She nodded.
“I’ve already notified the authorities as to who he was. As Bobby Bowman, I mean. Right now the courts in Nebraska are looking at Lyle Bowman’s case again.” Jarod said.
“That’s probably what he would have wanted.” Miss Parker replied. “Now we have to do something about his son.”
Miss Parker stood and walked over to a box sitting in the corner. She pulled out a book and returned to the sofa.
“This is something I found when I was sorting through Lyle’s apartment.” She said.
She opened the book and they saw the old pictures of Lyle, when he was still Bobby Bowman. Little Bobby doing the things that ordinary little boys do.
“I wondered why he kept this.” She said.
“Probably to remind himself of what his life was like before the Centre came into it.” Jarod replied. Miss Parker shook her head sadly. She closed the book and looked at Jarod.
“I think I need to lie down.” She said. He smiled at her weakly. She rose and took his hand and pulled him up from the seat.
They walked out of Catherine Parker’s sanctuary and through the living room to the stairs and then to her bedroom. She stopped in the doorway.
“Get this straight, Wonderboy.” She said in her usual tone. “I only don’t want to be alone tonight.” Jarod smiled at her and shook his head a little.
They walked to opposite sides of the bed and dressed down before sliding under the covers. Miss Parker lay on her side and Jarod lay behind and beside her with his arm around her.
“You asked me if I was in love with you.” Jarod said quietly. Miss Parker remembered the moment and nodded against him.
“I love you, Myrna.” He said.
“I love you too, Jarod.” She said quietly.
She tilted her head back and they kissed softly before they sunk into their pillows and finally allowed sleep to take them.
The End
Feedback is Welcome!
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Up to IOTH
Summary: Sequel to Never No More
Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters and am just playing around with them.
Note: Includes lyrics of the song “Folsom Prison Blues” by Johnny Cash.
Folsom Prison Blues
By Madame Estrella
“He’s right down this way, Dr. Lecter. No relation huh?” The guard said looking back at Jarod and chuckling at his own witticism.
Jarod nodded and followed the guard through another guard station toward the visitor area. They were in the high max area of the Delaware Penitentiary where the most violent felons were held.
“Actually, it would make sense to have Hannibal Lecter talk to this guy; he’s a real crazy. I’ve heard all sorts of terrible things about this guy.” The guard continued as they got close enough to hear sounds. Singing.
“I hear the train a-comin'; it's rollin' 'round the bend, and I ain't seen the sunshine since I don't know when, I'm stuck at Folsom Prison and time keeps draggin' on. But that train keeps a-rollin' On down to San Antone. “ The voice in the distance sang, but Jarod recognized it.
“And he keeps singing that damn song!” The guard exclaimed, stopping to open a door. “The other prisoners would love to do something about it but the last guy who tried lost a finger.”
“Lost a finger?” Jarod asked.
“Yeah, he bit it clean off.” The guard replied. “You can imagine what some of the guys are saying that he’s going to order for his last meal.”
“Chinese.” Jarod muttered to himself.
“Huh?” The guard said turning to look at him questioningly.
“Nothing.” Jarod replied.
“Well, here it is. Remember that you pass nothing to the prisoner and you take nothing from the prisoner. Stay away from the glass at all times.” The guard said. “Have a good time, Dr. Lecter.”
Jarod nodded and took a few steps toward the cubicle and sat in the chair without looking at the man. He pulled a red notebook out of his satchel and then looked up at the glass.
“Hello, hello.” Mr. Lyle grinned at him. “I was wondering when you’d pony up the cahoneys to come up here.”
“Pony up the what?” Jarod replied, dumbfounded.
“Never mind.” Lyle replied. He straightened his orange jumper and leaned forward. “So, I guess the Centre hasn’t caught you yet, huh?”
“It would appear not.” Jarod replied.
“So why did you come?” Lyle replied. “Pardon my frankness, Jarod, but my time is coming to an end.”
Jarod nodded. In thirty-six hours, the man known to the world as Mr. Lyle, the serial killer that only exists in flesh would be executed. The media was going wild with his case. The State of Delaware was going to execute a man who didn’t even have a social security number, and he wasn’t talking to anyone.
“I came for answers.” Jarod replied. Lyle sat back and chuckled.
“Answers? After what you did to me, I’m taking those answers to the grave.” Lyle spat back. He glared at Jarod momentarily, and then his expression became a serene one.
“However, I suppose I have the upper hand. I know my fate. I know exactly where when and how I’m going to die. You have to meander through the rest of your life, not even knowing how yours started.” Lyle smirked.
“I can help you.” Jarod replied.
“You can help me.” Lyle laughed. “Did you bake me a cake with a saw in it?”
“Of course not!” Jarod said. “Something like that would never make it through the metal detectors.”
“Then how?” Lyle replied shaking his head.
“You haven’t filed any appeals.” Jarod replied.
“So what? You want to file an eleventh hour insanity Hail Mary defense plea?” Lyle grinned. “No, Jarod. It’s a sweet gesture but if you were really interested in what I had to say, you wouldn’t have put me here in the first place.”
“You could testify against the Centre.” Jarod replied.
“I’m resigned to my fate, Jarod. In fact, it’s a relief.” Lyle said.
Jarod stared at the man for a few, long moments. Then he finally shook his head.
“Why?” Jarod said.
“Because I’m evil.” Lyle said drawing out each word. “Hey, you still have Raines.”
“I can’t believe that you didn’t even fight this.” Jarod said quietly. Lyle cocked his head at him and made a sympathetic expression.
“Aww. Are you saying that you’re disappointed with me? Are you going to miss me, Jarod? I mean, I could see why. We did have some good times together.” Lyle said, and then chuckled.
“There was that time when I shocked you with the jumper cables and then you came right back and were going to try and do the same. But you didn’t. I guess that’s the difference between you and I. You never had what it took to go the extra mile, Jarod. You ...” Lyle began but Jarod cut him off.
“Have some morality.” Jarod growled and then looked sheepishly at the guard.
“What are you supposed to be here anyway?” Lyle asked.
“A psychiatrist.” Jarod replied.
“What name are you using?” Lyle said, sitting forward.
“Lecter.” Jarod replied and Lyle howled with laughter.
“Lecter!” Lyle gasped between laughs. “Oh boy, that’s good. Right up there with Ness, and Ellis.”
Jarod shoved the notebook back into the satchel and went to stand. Lyle stopped laughing and looked at him seriously.
“You know you’re the first visitor I’ve had.” Lyle said. “And that means something to me. You know, Jarod, I will tell you this, I am sorry that I killed, Kyle.”
Jarod put the satchel at his feet. He looked back at Lyle’s stoic expression.
“You are?” Jarod asked.
“Yeah. I mean, I was trying to kill you instead. Aside from that I think that Kyle and I would’ve gotten along well together in another life. We certainly had a lot in common.” Lyle replied.
“I would like to think that Kyle would have been a good person had the Centre never gotten a hold of him.” Jarod replied.
“Ditto.” Lyle said. “It was nice seeing a familiar face around here, even if it had to be yours.”
Jarod nodded and Lyle called his attention back to him.
“Just think about this, Jarod. The next time you kiss my sister, remember that she and I are basically the same person.” Lyle sneered. Jarod shook his head in disgust.
Lyle stood and walked to the back of his cage and leaned back against it. A guard came and snapped some cuffs on his wrists and then opened the cage and led him away.
Jarod looked after him for a few moments and then turned to walk back toward the exit. As he walked through the door he could hear Lyle singing.
“When I was just a baby, my mama told me. "Son, always be a good boy; don't ever play with guns." But I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die. When I hear that whistle blowin' I hang my head and cry. “
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“I must be a popular guy.” Lyle chimed as he entered the cage once again. He dropped his hilarity and flashed a wry grin at the woman in the chair opposite him.
“Miss Parker.” Lyle said. She nodded. She drew a deep breath and sat a little straighter in her chair.
“You just missed your boyfriend.” Lyle sneered.
“My what?” She snapped.
“Jarod. He was here for some last minute taunting, as I can imagine you came for as well.” Lyle replied. “So, why did the victim come to see her brother on the last day?”
She drew a deep breath.
“Prison hasn’t changed you at all, Lyle.” She snapped.
“Did you expect it to?” He replied.
“I suppose not.” She said and then looked at her feet. “Do you have any regrets at all, Lyle?” She asked meeting his eyes again. He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.
“Sure. I have some regrets.” He said. He smiled a little. “I regret being sent here for one.” She sighed at him impatiently.
“So what do you think Hell is going to be like?” She said, narrowing her eyes.
“I’ll let you know in a vision or whatever the hell it is you have.” Lyle replied.
Her face fell and she held back a small sob. Lyle looked at her sadly.
“Don’t come here and cry at me on the last day when I haven’t seen or heard from you since the trial.” He said angrily. She burst into tears and wiped at her face.
“I hate you, Lyle!” She cried. “You’re such a bastard! How in the hell can you be my twin?” She drew a breath and regained a little composure.
“That’s probably the most honest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He replied. She shook her head.
“This was a mistake.” She said and went to get up.
“I regret this.” He said. She sat back down and looked at him.
“What?” She asked.
“I regret this happening to us. You know, in a perfect world we would have grown up together, and maybe even would have liked each other.” He said. She smiled a little.
“I regret not being with my son the most.” He said. “Yes, he is mine and Brigitte’s, not some crazy Centre experiment and certainly not our brother.”
A few more tears fell from Miss Parker’s eyes and she wiped them away.
“Take care of him.” Lyle said. She nodded quietly. “And do something for the Bowmans if you would.”
There was a long silence between them. Lyle rubbed the skin on his left hand where his other thumb would have been.
“What do you think our mother would have thought of me?” Lyle asked quietly.
“I couldn’t say.” Miss Parker replied.
“No, I suppose not. You know I can’t imagine her with Raines.” He said.
“What do you mean?” She replied.
“Well, he is our father, I mean, do the math. I just can’t see what she saw in that old oxygen dragging ghoulish old bastard.” He replied. She broke into a smile and chuckled.
“Well, he didn’t always have the oxygen tank.” She replied.
“But still!” Lyle replied. “He had to have drugged her or something!” They were both laughing. “What, what would he say? Oh baby; let me take you up a sublevel!” Lyle said and then began laughing uncontrollably. Miss Parker put a hand over her mouth but couldn’t hold back a burst.
They laughed for a while and then regained their composure, realizing they were still in the prison and Lyle was scheduled to die the next day.
“Just remember what a terrible person I am when they put that needle in my arm tomorrow.” Lyle said. “Remember that the State of Delaware is doing the world a favor and that we have the death penalty because of people like me.”
They sat in silence for a few more moments and then the guard came over to Lyle’s cage.
“I’m sorry, sis.” Lyle said. He stood and allowed them to cuff him again and then lead him away.
As she left she could hear him singing and she smiled. Lyle had the strangest sense of humor.
“I bet there's rich folks eatin' in a fancy dining car. They're prob'ly drinkin' coffee and smokin' big cigars, but I know I had it comin', I know I can't be free, but those people keep a-movin', and that's what tortures me.”
“Well, if they freed me from this prison, if that railroad train was mine, I bet I'd move on over a little farther down the line, far from Folsom Prison, that's where I want to stay, and I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away. “
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The following evening, some guards arranged the chairs in the viewing gallery neatly as others ran the janitor through the rehearsal execution. Tensions were high inside the prison as well as in the world surrounding it.
Death penalty protesters had gathered outside the prison and were screaming their protests to all that would listen. Death penalty supporters lined the street across from them cheering the state for putting down such a terrible person.
The media reported that the man known as Mr. Lyle had a last meal consisting of pepper steak, rice, sweet and sour chicken, and pistachio ice cream.
The media also spotlighted the debate between the death penalty supporters and protesters. Then they went into the hot story.
How could the State of Delaware execute a man who didn’t legally exist anywhere? How could such a person slip through the cracks his entire life without ever generating a paper trail only to be locked up after committing the atrocities he had?
They told the Mr. Lyle story. Mr. Lyle worked for The Centre a think tank in Blue Cove, Delaware. While under their employment he’d committed the serial kidnapping and murders of eleven Asian women in the area. He was reportedly linked to the murders of another Asian woman in Las Vegas, Nevada, two young college exchange students in Virginia, and two prostitutes in Cambodia.
They also reported on the two visitors who had seen Mr. Lyle the previous day. The only visitors he’d had since he was arrested at his apartment twenty-seven months before. One was a psychiatrist, Dr. Jarod Lecter, who was unavailable for comment. The other had been Mr. Lyle’s sister, Miss Parker, who he’d held prisoner and attempted to murder. She had also been unavailable for comment.
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Lyle sat on the bunk in his cell. He hadn’t bothered sleeping, what was the point? Was it necessary that he be nice and rested for his death? He’d held onto his resolve through the whole process.
He’d been arrested and he’d remained calm. He’d gone to trial and he’d remained calm. He’d been convicted and he’d remained calm. Now he was going to die, and they’d shot him full of tranquilizers so he didn’t have to try anymore.
The only thing in the world that he wanted was to see his son. The son he and Brigitte had brought into this world. He was the same child who’d been whisked away by Cox in the wake of Brigitte’s death and wasn’t seen again.
They’d kept his son from him as a means of control and he’d known it. And then they’d all but handed him to the authorities when Jarod had turned him in.
He wondered if his son had his or Brigitte’s eyes. He would be three now. He’d be talking, calling someone else daddy and mommy. Lyle looked at his hands a he clasped them in his lap.
He wasn’t going to break down like Miss Parker had the day before. Why had she broken down? It was only he. He supposed that she felt guilty on some level.
And Jarod had thought that he’d just break down and give him all the answers he wanted. If Lyle was going to die without ever seeing his son, he’d be damned if he’d just blurt out where Jarod’s mother was to make himself not look like such a bad guy in the end.
The priest came in and sat down with Lyle. He smiled at the old man. His confidant. The man he’d confessed all his sins to. Lyle would die knowing that he’d answered to God at least for all he had done. He’d said his hundred thousand Hail Mary’s and had left a donation to the church in his will.
He knelt with the old man and prayed.
“Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever, amen.”
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Miss Parker sat between Broots and Sydney. Raines sat in front of them and she almost laughed again when she remembered Lyle’s impression of him the day before. Then she remembered why she was sitting there, staring at the glass window.
The room was full of friends and families of the victims. They spoke in both English and their native languages about Lyle.
“Monster.”
“This had been long past due.”
“I wish they could kill him twice.”
Miss Parker almost jumped as she felt the hand curl around hers. She looked down at it and then up at Sydney. She smiled weakly at him and he smiled back at her.
Moments later, the curtain was opened and they all saw Lyle strapped to the table in heavy restraints. He lay, staring at the ceiling.
A voice asked if he had anything to say. He nodded slightly and turned his head and raised it a little to look at the window they watched him through.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” He said quietly and then returned to staring at the ceiling.
The IV was started into his arm. Miss Parker watched as Lyle slowly closed his eyes.
Suddenly she found herself standing over the table, staring down at him. She looked up and saw her mother smile weakly back at her. Then their mother looked down at Lyle and gently stroked his hair.
“My Bobby.” She said. “What did they do to you?”
Miss Parker burst into tears as she watched Lyle’s breathing slow and eventually stop altogether. Her mother looked back at her with tears streaming down her face.
“Never let this happen again.” She said, choking back her tears. She then burst into sobs and laid her head on her dead son’s chest, her own heaving uncontrollably.
Miss Parker remained in her seat long after the curtains were closed and the families had left. Sydney finally tugged her free of her vision and she slowly rose with his help.
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Sydney had reluctantly left her once he’d driven her home. He’d insisted that she stay with him and she’d declined. She wanted to be in her family’s house. The house where the memory of her mother lived.
She took the bottle of scotch and a glass into her mother’s study. She sat on the couch and stared up through the skylight at the stars. She refilled her glass and relived the memory of the execution.
“Mom would have loved you.” She said. The tears fell from her eyes again.
She wasn’t startled when Jarod walked in and took a seat beside her. She felt his eyes on hers and then his too drifted to the skylight.
“He couldn’t fake that death.” Miss Parker said after a long time.
“No.” Jarod replied.
“I’m glad you came.” She said. “I think on some level, Lyle was too.”
“Yeah.” He said.
“You’re usually the talker, Jarod.” She said. Turning to him. He faced her and took her hand in his.
“I killed a man tonight.” Jarod replied. “Your brother.”
“The State of Delaware killed my brother.” She said. She wiped a tear away before it got too far down her cheek. “I killed him too.”
“He was ready for it though.” Jarod replied.
“He wanted to know his son.” Miss Parker said. “When he was lying there I could hear him saying it over and over.”
“Your inner sense.” Jarod said. She nodded.
“Then I saw mom standing over him, watching him die. She told me not to let it happen again.” She replied.
“Not to let what happen again?” Jarod asked.
“I guess that’s what we’re supposed to find out.” She said. “After I take care of some things.”
“For Lyle?” Jarod asked. She nodded.
“I’ve already notified the authorities as to who he was. As Bobby Bowman, I mean. Right now the courts in Nebraska are looking at Lyle Bowman’s case again.” Jarod said.
“That’s probably what he would have wanted.” Miss Parker replied. “Now we have to do something about his son.”
Miss Parker stood and walked over to a box sitting in the corner. She pulled out a book and returned to the sofa.
“This is something I found when I was sorting through Lyle’s apartment.” She said.
She opened the book and they saw the old pictures of Lyle, when he was still Bobby Bowman. Little Bobby doing the things that ordinary little boys do.
“I wondered why he kept this.” She said.
“Probably to remind himself of what his life was like before the Centre came into it.” Jarod replied. Miss Parker shook her head sadly. She closed the book and looked at Jarod.
“I think I need to lie down.” She said. He smiled at her weakly. She rose and took his hand and pulled him up from the seat.
They walked out of Catherine Parker’s sanctuary and through the living room to the stairs and then to her bedroom. She stopped in the doorway.
“Get this straight, Wonderboy.” She said in her usual tone. “I only don’t want to be alone tonight.” Jarod smiled at her and shook his head a little.
They walked to opposite sides of the bed and dressed down before sliding under the covers. Miss Parker lay on her side and Jarod lay behind and beside her with his arm around her.
“You asked me if I was in love with you.” Jarod said quietly. Miss Parker remembered the moment and nodded against him.
“I love you, Myrna.” He said.
“I love you too, Jarod.” She said quietly.
She tilted her head back and they kissed softly before they sunk into their pillows and finally allowed sleep to take them.
The End
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