Dana Matisse looked up from her notes, meeting the icy blue eyes of Victor LeDrew. He was leaning back in his seat, one elegant hand holding the saucer, the other lifting the teacup to his lips. Dana arched an eyebrow,
"How so, Mr. LeDrew?"
She waited as he took another sip before setting the china down. He reached for one of the delectable pastries, taking an almost dainty bite. He chewed and swallowed in an almost thoughtful manner before he answered,
"It had to be done. Who else could have done it?"
Dana shook her head,
"Mr. LeDrew, we've been over this so many times. You confessed to it."
"Oh, I know, my dear-"
"And yet," Dana interrupted, "You want me to believe that you felt it was your God-given duty to commit murder?"
"That's right, love," he said softly, "let it all out."
"Enough!" She slapped the table with her hand, "It is too late for this conversation. You've been tried, convicted and sentenced to death-"
"Which, I might add," he glanced at the clock behind her, "is in another twenty hours."
"Yes, I know." Dana whispered, suddenly weary. Her throat tightened, clogged by the threat of tears.
Victor took another sip of his tea.
Dana wanted to leave. She made the trip out here for the last visit but all he wanted to do was talk about that fateful day. He wanted to celebrate what he did but she couldn't. She just couldn't.
She thought about how he smiled during the trial, how happy he was to go on the stand and basically run the show. He didn't deny anything, but seemed rather keen to boast about it. It was time, he'd said, to take a stand against unscrupulous employers.
Dana was the junior reporter, assigned her first story.
She came to court everyday, furiously scribbling her notes so that it would be just right for the paper. This was her chance to show what she could do. She'd been excited.
Then one day, his lawyer threw up his hands and asked to be excused from the case, citing that he couldn't defend his client properly as Mr. LeDrew refused to cooperate. The judge would've postponed it until another lawyer could be found but Victor LeDrew was having none of it.
Victor cheerfully advised the judge that the trial can continue as he would have no problem representing himself. The judge warned him that it may not be in his favor but Victor was adamant. It was after that when Victor started to take notice of her.
When he was on the stand or posturing in front of the jurors, he would look out into the galley, in search of her. Once their eyes met, he would then continue to regale the courtroom with his attention to detail. Dana had been repulsed yet fascinated by him.
According to Victor, it had been very simple:
He had gone into his job the night before and severed all lines of communication. He then waited until his boss (who should not have been in that position to begin with) and the boss' rumored girlfriend (who was an entirely overpaid waste of skin) to show up at seven in the morning. Once they were in the office, he quietly blocked the only means of escape. He then calmly walked into the boss' private office and repeatedly stabbed the man in the jugular with a letter opener. The gurgling sounds from the boss brought in his fat girlfriend who met the same grisly fate. To Victor's utter amazement, she'd squealed just like a pig during their struggle.
It all had to do with the payroll.
Victor was on vacation at the time and they had the absolute cheek to call him about something that could have waited until he returned to work that following Monday.
That had been the tipping point for him.
After he killed them both, he pulled out his cell and called the police...
Victor had been analyzed by the doctors, deemed competent and the trial continued. The prosecutor had enjoyed himself immensely and even bragged down at the local watering hole that this case was the easiest bit of cheese he'd ever made.
The trial lasted only another week or so and during Victor's closing statement, he more or less demanded to be put to death since he did not think he would fare well at the state penitentiary. He'd heard some rather dreadful things about its hygienic status. Besides, he'd reasoned, it was much cheaper to just zap him one good time than to pay for his upkeep. He'd done the math and the amount was just staggering.
The judge simply rolled his eyes and gave Victor LeDrew exactly what he wanted...
Dana gathered up her notes, her heart heavy,
"I think it's time for me to go."
"You have at least another fifteen minutes," Victor said softly, "are you going to deny me that?"
Dana tried not to cry. He would be dead by the end of the day tomorrow. Surely she can wait until visiting hour was over? She leaned back in her seat,
"Yes, I'm sorry. Of course, I can stay. I'm just-"
"Oh good," he interrupted, clapping his hands, "and what about tomorrow? Will you be able to attend?" He gave her a hopeful, expectant look.
Dana didn't want to witness his execution. She didn't want to see him convulsing, to see the black hood billow where his eyes exploded, his veins distended with the fury of the electrical current. She didn't want to see any of that.
Dana shook her head, tears blinding her now,
"I can't...Mr. LeDrew, please-"
"Oh, but you must, my dear." Victor smiled as he reached for the teapot. He kept his eyes on hers as he poured, "And please wear that lovely green tweed suit. It's my favourite."
© copyright 2011 by Ren Thompson January 28, 2011
***Disclaimer***
This is just a work of fiction, I do not know how the exact procedures of the judicial system works, so please forgive me for bending it to suit my story.
The italicized aside was a little distracting, but obviously lent itself to the narrative. Good work, Ren!
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