They were given pictures of young pepper a simple

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Unformatted text preview: ep, Patrick." "I know, but I don't want to sleep. I'll get tortured again." Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, Hayani wrote something on the chart he was holding. A long silence followed in which both men occupied themselves with thoughts about what to say next. Hayani found it difficult to believe that this kind man was capable of killing another, and especially in such a ghastly way. The room was lit only by a narrow ray of sunshine along the edge of the window. "Can I be honest with you about something, Doc?" Patrick asked, his voice even lower. "Of course," "I need to stay here as long as I can. Here, in this room. In a few days, they'll start making noises about moving me to the Harrison County Jail where I'll get a bunk in a small cell with two or three street punks, and there's no way I can survive." "But why do they want to move you?" "It's pressure, Doc. They have to slowly increase the pressure on me until I tell them what they want. They put me in a bad cell with rapists and drug dealers, and the message will be conveyed that I'd better start talking because that is what I'm faced with for the rest of my life. Prison, at Parchman, the worst place in the world. You ever been to Parchman, Doc?" "No." "I have. I had a client there once. It's hell, literally. And the county jail isn't much better. But you can keep me here, Doc. All you have to do is keep telling the Judge that I need to remain under your care, and I stay here. Please, Doc." "Of course, Patrick," he said, then made one more entry on his chart. Another long pause as Patrick closed his eyes and breathed rapidly. Just the thought of jail and prison had upset him mightily. "I'm going to recommend a psychiatric evaluation," Hayani said, and Patrick bit his lower lip to suppress a smile. "Why?" he asked, feigning alarm. "Because I'm curious. Do you object?"...
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