Page 61 of The Chain House

Batise made a theatrically sarcastic move up from his chair as if out of respect for the governor’s appearance, but Warden Wren quickly said, “Sit down, Sal.”

And Batise settled back into the chair in the middle of the office. “To what do I owe this honor, Governor Hawthorne?”

The governor looked like he was one word away from putting his hands around Batise’s neck, but restrained himself by walking away, using the warden’s desk as a physical barrier between them.

Agent Givens stood rigidly, arms folded. “The body, Mr. Batise.”

“Don’t call him mister,” said Governor Hawthorne. “He’s a monster.” Rage flashed in the governor’s eyes; he’d lost multiple family members in the massacre Batise had ordered that evening twenty years ago, and it was clear that time had done little to heal those wounds.

Batise said, “A monster you’re going to want to keep alive, Governor, even after so many years of trying to end my life.”

Warden Wren said, “Spill it, Sal.”

“I want a promise first.”

“You’ll get no promise,” said Agent Givens. “Tell us what you know.”

Batise’s gaze focused directly on Governor Hawthorne. “I want a stay of execution.”

“Out of the question,” said the governor.

“Then I’m sorry, I’ve got no body to divulge, and no book to be found,” said Batise.

“What does the book have to do with this?” asked Agent Givens.

“Everything,” said Batise, his eyes still on Governor Hawthorne, who’d turned away and was now watching out the window toward the yard, where Minks had demanded that Batise be executed by firing squad.

Sam got the sense the other three men were tiptoeing around their most recent information, so he spoke up. “Justice Minks has the governor’s wife. He’s calling himself Oliver Crown now. He’s agreed to Beth Hawthorne’s safety if and only if …” Suddenly Sam couldn’t find himself able to say it.

Agent Givens stepped closer to Batise’s chair. “He’s demanding that not only are you to be executed on schedule, tonight at midnight, but he wants it done by firing squad.”

Batise chuckled. “Does he now?” he said. And then softer, as if for his own ears, “Firing squad.”

“This doesn’t surprise you?” Agent Givens asked.

Batise straightened in his chair. “No … no, not really.”

“Why not?” Warden Wren said, losing patience. “Firing squad is more archaic than the electric chair. We might as well hang you.”

“I’d actually prefer that,” said Batise. “The noose. Although the firing squad isn’t as archaic as you think. Do your research. South Carolina. Last year.”

“How do you know Justice Minks?” Agent Givens asked.

“No comment.”

“Did you meet him during your two-year stint at Eddyville?”

“I’d like to call my lawyer.”

Warden Wren said, “You fired your lawyer.”

Sam said, “Why does this not surprise you? The demand for a firing squad?”

“Because, Sam Harper, that’s exactly how it happens in the final book.”

All eyes were back on Batise, not only because he’d finally answered the question, but because it was becoming increasingly evident that he was only being serious when it was Sam questioning him.

Sam told the other three men in the room, “In the final book, there’s a cult leader named Malcolm Dodd, who is set to be executed. And it’s only after this execution, evidently done by firing squad …”