Free Love Her Madly by Mary-Ann Tirone Smith

Crucifixions for the millennium, an epidemic of them. I’d been part of the epidemic.
    Now a woman would be crucified.
    Seven wide brown leather straps hung down from the cot, heavy brass buckles dangling from each. One would be laid across her shoulders, one over her rib cage, one across her hips, and one each for her wrists and ankles.
    I asked the warden, “How many men on your tie-down team?”
    â€œRegulations say five. But I’m thinkin’ one guard and the medical technician’ll get the job done fine. The doc and me can always help, but I can’t see the need. Prisoner don’t weigh but a hundred pounds.”
    Directly behind the head of the cot was what once had been a closet. The door was narrow and, just to its left, an opening had been chipped out of the cinder block. They’d put a plate over it with a hole for the IV tube. The nurse would be behind the door so she wouldn’t have to stand next to the prisoner while she killed her.
    We went into the closet. There was a stand for the IV bag, a cupboard for the bag itself and for the tubing and syringes. Next to the cupboard, a little refrigerator.
    â€œFor the chemicals?”
    â€œWe’re expectin’ those any day.”
    â€œWho checks the expiration dates?”
    He smiled. “You ain’t lettin’ me forget I got a big-time agent from the FBI here as my guest, are ya? Don’t you worry, Agent, I’m sure that detail will be taken care of. Chemicals’ll be kept in my office until they’re transferred here. Check the expiration dates myself, how’s that?”
    I smiled back. “Where’s the computer?”
    â€œWe’re hands-on in Texas.”
    Maybe my jaw fell, I don’t know, but his smirk was a little expression of victory for him. No computer. No line of keys to tap in order to release the parade of poisons.
    I said, “The nurse will use a hypodermic? Directly into the IV line?”
    â€œThat’s right. Wouldn’t want a computer with some kind of virus in it giving the condemned the flu.”
    A big, big grin.
    I said, “You’ve never been in command of an execution before, have you?”
    â€œNo, I have not. But I’ve witnessed my share, and I intend to see that in Texas we give all killers the same treatment, men and women alike.”
    We left the little closet.
    We went back into the death chamber.
    One wall held a large window that looked onto the witness room. There were new draperies tied back on either side. Immediately after the condemned is pronounced dead and the doctor declares the time of death, the curtains are drawn shut. The witnesses do not see the body bagged. During the days of electrocutions, the draperies were introduced because it was deemed necessary to begin preautopsy procedures right away, there in the death chamber. The speculation is that the immediate start to the autopsy became a priority in order to kill the prisoner when 2,000 volts didn’t get the job done.
    The warden said, “We’re still waitin’ on the folding chairs.”
    Another departure. “Chairs?” At executions the witnesses simply crowd up to the window.
    â€œAll’s I need is for someone to faint and crack his head open. Once I saw a witness faint but someone caught her. I’m takin’ no chances.”
    â€œHow many witnesses can Rona Leigh have?”
    â€œSix.”
    â€œHas she chosen them?”
    â€œShe’s got five so far. But she can change her mind right up to the last. The men don’t change their minds. We’ll see if there’s a difference. With a woman. Since, as we all know, a woman’s prerogative is to change her mind.”
    He was still smiling, his hat still angled so perfectly, string tie neat and black against the white shirt, just a touch of embroidery at the pocket.
    I was now officially sick of Wyatt Earp.
    â€œMay I see Rona Leigh?”
    â€œSure