"Did you? Did you try--I mean with everything?"
"With everything. Might as well face it: the boy's going to burn, right
on schedule."
Kaplan opened his mouth.
"Forget it. The governor isn't about to issue a commutation. With the
public's blood up the way it is, he knows what it would mean to his
vote. We were stupid even to try."
"Lousy vultures."
Ritchie shrugged. "They're hungry, Max. You forget, there hasn't been
an execution in this state for over two years. They're hungry."
"So a poor dumb kid's got to fry alive in order for them to get their
kicks...."
"Wait a second now. Don't get carried away. This same poor dumb kid is
the boy who killed George Sanderson in cold blood and then raped his
wife, not too very long ago. If I recall, your word for him then was
Brutal Murderer."
"That was the paper. This is you and me."
"Well, get that accusatory look off your face. Murder and rape--those
are stiff raps to beat, pal."
"You did it with Beatty, you got him off," Kaplan reminded his friend.
"Luck. Public mood--Beatty was an old man, feeble. Look, Max--why don't
you stop beating around the bush?"
"Okay," Kaplan said slowly. "They--let me in this afternoon. I talked
with him again."