The Chamber (1996) - full transcript

I think I'm gonna die.

You wanted a birthday party.

What's that old expression?

Never mix bourbon
with champagne?

No.

Jews can't drink.

Honey, how about I take
the boys to school?

Bless you.

Where we going? Daddy's office!
Daddy's office!

Who wants Daddy's briefcase?
Me, me, me!

Run to the car.
Run to the car.



Run to the car.
Oh! Watch yourself.

Wait.

Bye, Mommy.
I love you!

Say bye to Mommy.
Bye, Mommy!

Bye. Be good, boys.

Love you.

I love you, too.

Okay.
Let's go to work.

Get in there.

Get in that car.
Get in that car.

You get in that car.

Okay. Sit down, boys.
Here we go.

Daddy's office!

Bye! See you home after this!



Hey.

Hey, Mr. Kramer.

Daddy's office! Daddy's office!
Daddy's office!

Everybody out.

Close that door.
Attaboy.

Okay. Everybody in.
Let's go.

Do we have to go in there?

You gotta go all the way.

All the way.

Hey, big stinky earplug!
Hey, big stinky man!

Who is it?

So far, all that's been
recovered are the bodies

of two small children,
their identity unknown.

The service is now completed.

Goddamn you!
You're murderers!

You're filthy murderers!
And you know it!

You're murderers, all of you!
You're murderers!

Tell us why you did it.

You killed my boys!

You murderer!
You filthy murderer!

You killed my boys, Cayhall!

Have you lost your mind?

No, I'm very serious.
I want the Cayhall case.

What do you know about the
death penalty, Mr. Hall?

I've read everything there is.

Then you know nothing.

I know that you took
Sam Cayhall pro bono,

and you've kept him
alive all these years.

And I also know that he just
won the right to fire you.

Do you mind telling me
how you know that?

I made it my business.

And do you know the
reason why he fired me?

He hates lawyers.

Then why in the world
would he hire you?

Go back to your
office, Mr. Hall.

We both have
better things to do.

Sam Cayhall is my grandfather.

Wow.

You have a relationship with
Williams and Cook in Jackson.

I could work out of that office.

I also know you have great
contacts at Parchman Prison.

A word from you
wouldn't hurt there, either.

I take it Hall is not
your real name, then.

My parents changed it from
Cayhall after the murders.

Do you still have
family down there?

I have an aunt in Jackson. I told
her I might be down on business.

Does she know
what this business is?

I'll tell her when I get there.

You Cayhalls are big on secrets.

Did you ever actually
meet your grandfather?

No.

Did they even
tell you he existed?

I found out at my
father's funeral.

When was that?
1980.

Same year Sam was
sentenced to die.

Yes, sir.

Your father must have
been a very young man.

Thirty-five years,
four months, six days.

Perhaps I shouldn't have asked.

It's not a big deal.

I was 52 years old the first
time I handled a death row case.

I didn't sleep for
a week afterwards.

I don't sleep as it is.

You open up passions no one wants
uncovered, and you are not welcomed.

For one brief terrible moment,

Sam Cayhall is gonna be the most
talked-about man in the country.

Mr. Goodman, I've been
living with this case,

one way or another,
my whole life.

To do so officially
might actually be a relief.

The odds of winning are a joke.

You don't have a chance in hell.

I'm going, Mr. Goodman,
with or without your help.

Call me from Jackson.
Don't thank me.

I have not done you a favor.

Did he do it?

Oh, he did it. There's no
question that he did it.

Your attention please.

The Mississippi Scenic Cruiser
for downtown Jackson

is now boarding
in the blue zone.

Good afternoon, sir. Good
to see you, sir. Thanks.

You look like
a mendicant Indian.

Where is your luggage?
Jesse, help Mr. Hall with...

You know, actually, I'm gonna
stay at a hotel near the courts.

I'm gonna be up all night,
working long hours, so...

Uh-huh. Oh, well, honey. Whatever you like.
I love you, you hear?

Now you go freshen up
and hurry down.

I have the mothers of the only 12
remaining virgins in all of Jackson

just panting to meet you.

I really don't think I'm gonna have
too much time for socializing.

You must regale us all with tales
of what it is that brings you here.

I'm guessing it's to use
your lawyerly charms

to separate our local fat cats
from their ill-gotten fortunes.

You should start with
my cranky old husband.

He deserves a good comeuppance.

Lee.
Yes.

I'm here to defend your father.

Look, I understand that...

You understand nothing.

Don't you utter
one word to anyone.

Lee.
Not one word.

You hear?

Good night.
Call me tomorrow.

I will.
All right. Bye.

Lovely party, dear.
Oh, thank you.

Don't forget we have
the museum on Thursday.

Uh-huh.

Good night, Adam.

Good night.

Good luck.

Phelps lives in town.
Oh, it's okay.

We have a very
active romantic life.

Just not with each other.

Why stay married?

Good for a banker to have someone
acceptable for social occasions.

And it's good for you
to have a banker.

Done pretty well
for poor white trash.

Don't you think?

Not bad.
Not bad at all.

Of course, how
acceptable I'm gonna be

when the world finds out I'm Hitler's
daughter is another question.

It's all right.
It's under control.

Nobody knows?

Well, I was speaking
of my drinking.

But, no.
No one knows.

I left home when I was 18, changed
my name, met Phelps, eloped.

We told his family
my father was dead.

Soon that won't be a lie.

You talk about Sam like
he means nothing to you.

Well, occasionally,
if I'm having a good day

and the sun is shining,
I might think of him

and remember some small, pleasant
moment from my earliest days.

The way he'd call me
sweet baby girl.

But mostly I remember how he
destroyed absolutely everyone

who made the mistake
of getting close to him.

He'll do it to you,
too, you know.

Be very careful
dredging the past, Adam.

You might not like
what comes up.

I'm here to see Sam Cayhall.

Briefcase.

Oh.

Spread your legs, please.

Sergeant Packer.
Adam Hall.

This way, please.

Not a good day to see Sam.
Why is that?

Prison attorney just called. Judge ruled.
He dies in 28 days.

I'll get Sam.

This way.

Catch up.

I'm gonna lock this door.
Sam'll be in in a minute.

Right.

Move on.

Get out.

Who the hell are you?

Adam Hall. I'm a lawyer with
Kravitz and Bane, Chicago.

You Jew boys never quit, do you?

I'm not Jewish.

How can you work
for Kravitz and Bane?

Well, we're an equal
opportunity employer.

Really?

I know you got about
150 partners up there.

How many of them are women?

I don't really know.
Maybe a dozen.

Oh, so you got
less than 10% women.

How many nigger
partners you got?

We have four
African-American partners.

Well, that's nice.

How many Jewish-American
partners you got?

About 80%?

You know, I don't really know. It
doesn't make a difference to me.

Well, it makes a big
difference to me.

I was always embarrassed to be
represented by such blatant bigots.

Yeah. Well, I think a lot of people
would probably find it appropriate.

Why are you so nervous?

I'm not nervous.

You afraid I'm gonna come through
that screen and get you?

How many death penalty
cases have you handled?

This is my first.

Oh, great. The Jew bastards
sent a greenhorn to save me.

I killed some of their people,
and now they wanna kill me.

I always expected it.

So you admit that you
killed the Kramer kids?

Who the hell are you to ask
me a question like that?

The jury said I did it.

The appeals court said the jury was right.
That's all that matters.

How old are you,
there, Mr. Hall?

Twenty-six.

I'd like to go over
your legal position...

Born in '69.
That's correct.

Looking at your legal position,
I've come up with...

Where?
In Memphis.

Listen, I'd prefer
to stick to the...

You grew up there, did you?

I grew up in a lot of places,
mainly southern California.

Mmm-hmm. Your
family still there?

My mom's remarried,
and she lives in Portland.

And your sister.

I believe her name
would be Carmen.

College. Berkeley.

How did you know?

The voice. You sound
just like your daddy.

Why'd you come here?

He sent me.

I don't have a choice.

But I am gonna save you.

Save me?
Yeah.

This from the son of a man
that blew his own brains out?

Go to hell,
you little piece of shit.

You know who you're
talking to? Save me?

Why, shit. You don't look like you
could save a turkey from Thanksgiving.

Go on, get the hell out of here.

Try to save your own sorry ass.

I am the only person on this earth that
gives a damn whether you live or die.

Now, you are gonna sign this
contract agreeing to be my client,

or you will be dead in 28 days.

We're all a bit taken aback at how
huge this case has suddenly become.

Uh... What's so
huge about it?

Oh, I know the Clarion-Ledger
is not the Chicago Tribune,

but in our small pond,
it's everything.

Uh... I'm lost.

Certainly you've
seen today's paper.

Thanks very much.
This'll be just fine.

You let us know if we can
do anything more for you.

Why do you want
the right to terminate

my representation
without a fight?

It took me a long time to fire
those Jew bastards last time.

I won't go through that again.

All right, that's reasonable.

I don't care if you think
it's reasonable or not.

It's in the agreement,
and it's nonnegotiable.

Moving right along.

Well, this is ridiculous.
"No clemency."

Okay. If the appeals
process fails,

we're gonna have to go to Governor
McAllister as a last resort,

so to preclude clemency at
that point would be suicidal.

If I could take David McAllister
into the chamber with me,

I'd die with a smile.

I was tried. I was retried.
I got a hung jury both times.

I was free. I was a
free man for 12 years.

And then that sleazy
son of a bitch McAllister

used me to get hisself elected.

No deals with the Governor.

Fine.

All right. Why did
you become a Klansman?

Because my daddy
was in the Klan.

Why did your daddy
become a Klansman?

His daddy was in the Klan.

Great. We got three
generations, huh?

No. Four.

Colonel Jacob Cayhall fought with
Nathan Bedford Forrest in the war.

And family legend has it that he was
one of the first members of the Klan.

So let me see.
I guess that'd make him

your great-great-
great-granddaddy.

Do you expect me
to feel proud about that?

I don't give a damn
how you feel.

I'm just telling
you who you are.

Isn't that why you're here?

All right, the Kramer twins
was the fifth bombing.

What about the real estate
office in Jackson?

Well, I lost my
virginity on that one.

It was a crude little thing with
just some sticks and a fuse.

The newspaper office?

A real fireball.

The Hirsch Temple?
Best one yet.

The Kramer office?

It was a good bomb. But I
never meant to kill anybody.

Really?

You bombed the Pinder house
at 4:00 in the morning

and there were six
people sleeping there.

But nobody got hurt, 'cause I
planted the bomb in the garage.

I don't make fancy bombs. They're
just simple little things.

But I know where to put them.

Like I told you, I never
meant to kill anybody.

And the twins?

Casualties of war.

The father losing his legs?
Killing himself?

I don't wanna talk about this.

Are you hiding something from me?
I wouldn't advise it.

I got nothing to hide.

I did what I had to do.
The Klan was at war.

We would've won, too, but we
started bombing the Jews,

and with all their money, they
got the FBI, and they beat us.

We should've just stayed to
whipping up on the niggers.

The world would've been
a different place.

Yeah, you can pretend
you're all offended by this.

But deep down inside,

we both know that there's a
part of you agrees with me.

That's bullshit.

Why you getting so touchy?
What're you hiding?

I'm not hiding a thing.

Like hell you're not.

You're driving your car and some
drunk jungle bunny cuts you off,

his ghetto music blasting.

What do you think?

"Why you darn
African-American." No.

You think, "Nigger."

If you had any guts,
you'd say so.

I'm gonna come back tomorrow.

I hurt your little
feelings, have I? Huh?

What'd you expect to find here?
Ol' Grandpa Do-Good?

Expect me to go all blubbery
and kiss your behind

and sing psalms of forgiveness?

I don't know what I expected.

Sure, you did, Grandson.

Hi. I'm Nora Stark,
Attorney Hall.

I kind of clean up after
Governor McAllister.

Adam, please.

Well, Adam it shall be.

I'm very curious, Adam.

Are you aware that the
identical points raised

in the pending ineffective
counsel petition

were turned down by
Texas just last month?

Actually, I am.
It's my opinion, though,

that Texas is miles
ahead of Mississippi

in many things,
including stupidity.

I'm optimistic.
Morning, counsel.

Good morning, Your Honor.
Good morning.

This is serious business.

Ultimate, irreversible
punishment of a fellow human.

And time is the purest gold. When
do you plan to file an appeal?

Oddly, I had planned on waiting
for the court to issue a ruling

before appealing it,

Your Honor.

However, if,
as expected, Thursday.

And the state's response?
We agree.

Assuming young counsel opposite
will not be introducing

additional issues on this appeal.
Obviously not.

Friday morning.

You'll have my decision Friday.

Can the court expect
additional filings?

Are you asking me my legal
strategy, Your Honor?

Not at all, sir.

But I'm thrilled
to know you have one.

You're all dismissed. Now.

Adam. Clemency?

I'm contractually bound not to ask.
You haven't.

But you will. You see, the
Governor's a very open minded man.

He's not precluding anything.

You becoming a lawyer
must've made Sam proud.

Well, Governor, you of all people should be
familiar with his view of the profession.

However, I'd just as soon keep
this discussion on the issue

and, as agreed, off the record.

I understand
you're reconsidering

the state-sanctioned
murder of my client.

Adam, would you mind?

No, sir.

Adam, I obviously
worked very hard

and am extremely proud
to have won a conviction

where two previous
prosecutors have failed.

However, while I have no doubt Sam
Cayhall is guilty as charged,

I have always found it very difficult
to believe he acted alone.

And as you know, he's never been
inclined to help himself in that regard.

What exactly are you saying? Is there
something specific you know about?

No. Certainly not.

I just wanna make sure
justice is served.

I see.

So if I should somehow learn...

Adam, I take my power to decide

whether a fellow human should
live or die very seriously.

Now, if I could somehow be convinced
your client felt the same way...

I'm sorry to rush. Nora, please help
out Mr. Hall in every way we can.

It was lovely to meet you.

Nice to meet you.

Let me guess. You're not
convinced he's sincere.

Allow me a touch
of healthy skepticism.

But of course.

However, off the record
and on the issue,

you've been given the opportunity
to provide the Governor with cover.

Love politics.

Because if he stays the
execution without a reason,

he looks to the left like
a friend of the old guard.

He looks to the right
like he's soft on crime.

And given it was he
who personally won

the conviction
in the first place,

he looks to the world
like a big flip-flop.

But if I come up
with new information,

it gives him an excuse
to follow his conscience.

Let's just say
it expands his options.

So to facilitate that, you've
been assigned my new best friend.

Something like that.

Well, pal, I plan on winning
this one in the courts.

Even better. It's not
getting to the Governor.

Now you're talking. If you
need any help at all,

that's home, that's office.

Call me.

I found this in my
motel room last night.

"Welcome to Dixie. Please try and
leave everything as you found it."

Sounds like good manners to me.

It was attached to the
timer of a fake bomb.

What?

What do you think
I should do about it?

I don't give a damn
what you do about it.

Right now I'm thinking about how that
gas they're gonna force me to sniff

makes your lungs explode and
come flying out your mouth.

What motions you
planning to file?

We're gonna pursue
cruel and unusual.

Three years at Michigan Law, and
that sorry idea's the best you got?

In 1984, the Mississippi
legislature

passed a law changing
the method of execution

from the gas chamber
to lethal injection.

And that law only applies to
folks sentenced after 1984.

I was sent up here in 1980.

Now, what the hell's your point?

I see that you're up
on the law, aren't you?

I read all the decisions by all
the dead judges. Same as you.

I write some writs
for guys on the row.

You gotten any stays yet?

Then I ask you to keep your matchbook
law school advice to yourself,

and let me do my job.

By changing to lethal injection,
a more humane method,

the state admitted de facto

that the gas chamber is a
cruel method of execution.

May I remind counsel,
speaking as the gasee,

I'll be just as dead
one way as the other?

Sooner or later, yeah. But
I'll take later as a win.

I'm bursting with confidence! I been losing
better appeals than this for 16 years.

I feel like those white guys who always
lose to the nigger Globetrotters.

You know, why didn't my dad
get infected with this crap?

We're gonna have our Eddie talk now, huh?
Is that it? I'd be careful.

Well, you destroyed him. I mean, you
must feel pretty good about that.

I destroyed nothing. He never
tried to understand the Klan.

We were right.

Oh, you still think
you were right?

Look what you got now: AIDS and
drugs and bastard children.

Killer bees?

Well, they come
from Africa, don't they?

South America. But that's
probably close enough for you.

Why're you doing this?

'Cause my life would be a lot
easier if I could just hate you.

But you can't, can you?
'Cause I'm just too lovable.

Well, I'm working on it.

Christ, your father kills himself in
front of you when you're 10 years old,

and then you go to the funeral and
find out Grandpa's still alive.

Great! Except for the fact that
he's a racist, scumbag baby-killer!

Why is that not comforting?

Oh, stop.
You're breaking my heart.

It was your hate that drove
him away, wasn't it?

Eddie was weak.

I never laid a hand on him.

Never got after him.

Never cared who his friends were.
Not even Quince.

Who?

Quince Lincoln, a nigger kid
Eddie used to play with.

Wait a second. I've
heard that name before.

It don't mean nothing.

No, no. Quince Lincoln.
He used to mention that name.

He'd have these spells.

He'd be in his room for two,
three days at a time...

Sergeant Packer!...He'd
start mumbling some story,

and it was about Quince Lincoln.

I just thought he made it up. It don't
mean nothing. Shut up about it.

No. Who's Quince...

It don't mean nothing!
Shut up about it!

Let's go, Sam.

Come on.

Yeah.
Were you asleep?

No, I'm up.

Don't ask me how I know,

but the court's going to
reject ineffective counsel.

Yeah, I expected that.

Well, I'll be ready to file
the appeal in New Orleans

the minute the court here rules.

I'll expect your first draft
in the morning. Good night.

Hello.

Nora.

Hi.

Does the offer
to help still stand?

Sure.

I need to track down the FBI agent
who was in charge of Sam's case.

Sam was of no concern
to us, you understand?

He wasn't active in
the really nasty stuff,

so we weren't keeping
close track of him.

When did that change?

When the civil rights workers disappeared,
Hoover sent us in with a fury.

We spread money
all over the place.

Those people were basically just ignorant
rednecks, you know. Didn't have a dime.

So we preyed on
their craving for money.

Uh-huh?

Go on.

Hey. There's some things
I can talk about

and there's some things
I can't talk about.

And there's some things
I won't talk about,

because I don't like you
lawyers twisting the truth,

getting killers off
on some legal technicality.

That's bullshit.

Besides, it's too late
for new information, kid.

The courts won't hear it.
You know that.

The courts don't have
the final say in this case.

Besides, you say he wasn't involved
in the really nasty stuff.

I mean, there's no way
he meant to kill.

Of course he meant to kill.

Marvin Kramer was
a creature of habit.

He was in that office
every morning before 8:00.

The bomb went off
straight up at 8:00.

The timer
was set for 8:00.

That was never
introduced at trial.

Hey, I can't help it if the damn
lawyers didn't make use of it.

It was in our report.

Well, I'd like
to see that report.

Well, I can't help you there, pal.
I'm just a fisherman now,

who'd just as soon
see him gassed.

I've been around those
violent assholes all my life.

Let them taste the
other end of violence.

See how brave they are
without their hoods.

You know what I'm talking about.

Why would our FBI friend not want to tell
us something about a 30-year-old case?

'Cause you're in Mississippi now.
Land of the secrets.

There are bodies
buried everywhere.

But no one's trying to hide
anything about Sam.

They don't have to.
He did it.

They just don't want you
sifting through the ashes,

'cause they're not sure
what else you might turn up.

Who is "they"?

Everyone.

No one. What difference
does it make?

Well, maybe a lot.

I mean, take you, for instance.

Are you really here to help me?

Or did they assign
you to spy on me?

You ever heard of the
Sovereignty Commission?

Vaguely.

Well, it doesn't exist anymore.

They started it in the '50s.

It was an official state agency
dedicated to states' rights,

i.e. fighting
civil rights.

Some people think it was
actually coordinating

all of the white
citizens' councils.

What were those?

Every town had one.

A local group of
respectable white people.

Professional types,
pillars of their community,

who told the Klan what to do.

So somebody like Sam
wasn't even making decisions.

Like our FBI friend said,

they were poor, uneducated bigots who
couldn't find their butts with a map.

The citizens' councils used
them to do their dirty work.

And the Sovereignty Commission?

They kept the records.

Sam, please sign this.

I ain't signing nothing.

The files are sealed
by the state legislature.

Now, as a defendant
on death row,

you and only you can apply
to have your files opened.

You're set to die in 20 days,
all right. This might help.

Help him, maybe. Not me.
Help who?

The Governor, you dumb ass.
Can't you see it?

He can't open the files hisself,

so he gets you to do it for him.

Why? To help me?

He put me here.

Nah. He's just fishing for
what every politician wants,

dirt on their enemies.

What's in those files, Sam?

Nothing for you. No, it's
just stuff they'd use

to twist around
and hurt my people.

I'm your people.

Don't you get it? I am.

You ain't my real people. You
ain't never met my real people.

I don't know
how they got the story.

It's only a matter of time
before they get around to me.

Well, I am sorry.
But, listen,

I think I might
be onto something.

I'm following some
leads from way back.

For God's sake, Adam,
leave it alone.

Lee, I really think
I can save him.

Ever occur to you he might
not be worth saving?

You can't mean that.
All right, Adam.

You wanna know about the past?

I'll tell you about the past.

This was my tree.

My own laurel tree.

I was up there.

Your father was there,
with Quince.

They were eight.
Maybe they were nine.

And they were best friends.

They were fighting and kicking, and
they made so much noise Daddy heard

and come out to see
what all the ruckus was.

You hear me?
Go on. Go on.

Get on home!

Quince's father did
day work for Daddy.

His name was Joe.

Daddy never was very handy, you
know, with mechanical things,

so Joe fixed things for us.
He made things.

He was here all the time.

So then Quince came
back with his father.

My boy, Quince, said you
been beating on him.

They fought
so hard. Like animals.

At one point,
Daddy grabbed the rake.

And things got out of hand.

He knocked Joe over.
Joe fell to the ground.

And he yelled for Quince
to run and get his shotgun.

Quince, go get my shotgun!

Sam told Eddie to go
get his. Eddie froze.

But Daddy made him go.

Joe was here.

Daddy was there.

Get in the house.
Go on.

Joe waited for his gun.

He kept looking around.

Sam had his.

And then my dear,
sweet father...

This was Mississippi

in the early '50s.

Daddy said self-defense.

He was never even
so much as arrested.

What were my dad
and Quince fighting about?

A toy soldier.

Eddie thought
Quince had stolen it.

That night he found it
under his bed.

He took the weight of the
world on his shoulders.

And then he said.

I had killed Joe Lincoln, too.

He said if I had cried
out for Daddy to stop,

no way would he have fired.

Not with his sweet
baby girl watching.

Of course, he was right.

It was my fault, too.

It's mine!

Making so much
noise Daddy heard.

Get on home!

Quince! Quince!

Help me, Quince.

Get my shotgun!

Daddy never was very handy, you
know, with mechanical things.

Jesus!

The superintendent asked if you've
been thinking about your last meal.

Special requests can take time.

Yeah, I want

a bowl of Eskimo Pies
and French Market coffee.

It shall be done.

There's been five executions
since you been here, Sam.

You know anything about
any problems with any of them?

Come on.

They all died
within 50 feet of me.

Everybody on the row knows
everything about every killing.

Tell me about Teddy Meeks, then.

I want to hear every detail.

They didn't know
what they were doing.

Everything went wrong.

Have you seen the chamber?

Not yet.

Well, there's a little
room off to one side

where the executioner goes to mix
up his solution of sulfuric acid.

With Meeks, the
executioner was drunk.

Come on.

He was drunk.

Anyway.

His first batch
of brew didn't work.

And Meeks held his breath
for as long as he could.

Then he inhaled
and nothing happened.

So they waited.

Meeks waited.
The witnesses waited.

And slowly, they turned
toward the executioner,

who's waiting and cussing.

He finally goes back
to his little room

and he mixes up another batch of
sulfuric acid and pulls the lever.

This time the sulfuric acid drops
down where it's supposed to.

Pulls the second lever,

dropping the cyanide pellets.

Sure enough, this gas
starts drifting upward

to where old Teddy is
holding his breath again.

So finally he sucks in
a whole nose full of it

and starts shaking and jerking.

Well, for some reason or
other there's a metal pole

that runs from the top of the
chamber down to the bottom,

and it's right directly
behind the chair.

And...

And just about the time
Meeks got real still

and everybody thought
he was dead,

his head starts banging back
and forth against that pole.

Just beating the hell
out of it like that.

His eyes rolled up in his head,

and his lips
opened up real wide.

And he was foaming at the mouth.

And there he was,

just banging the back of his
head against that pole.

It was sick.

How long did it take
them to kill him?

According to the prison doctor,

death was instant and painless.

Packer told me it was the longest
five minutes of his life.

The guy convulsed and heaved and
pounded his skull for so long

that pieces of his brain was
flying out the top of his head.

How does this lever they pull
activate the cyanide canister?

What?

The lever. Does it work with hinges
or springs? How does it work?

I don't know.

Well, is it just gravity
that's forcing it down?

Well, how in the hell
would I know that?

Just thought you had an aptitude
for this sort of thing.

Well, sue me.
I'm not mechanical.

That's what Lee said.

But you were handy enough to build
a bomb to kill the Kramer twins.

Son of a bitch. Is that
what this is all about?

You must've stayed up all
night thinking of this one.

Sorry, bubba.
I hate to disappoint you,

but bombs ain't
that complicated.

Well, they couldn't
be that easy.

I wouldn't know how to do it.

That's 'cause
you're not motivated.

By the time I did Kramer,
I had it down real simple.

So you expect me to believe that
just because you're an anti-Semite,

you know how to build a bomb,

strategically place it on the
second story of a building,

light a fuse and then get out of
there without any risk to yourself?

Plenty of risk.
Not much glory.

And it was the first floor. The bomb went
off below them. Check the FBI report.

I did.
What did it say?

Bomb went off below them.

Thank you very much. Anything
else I can help you with?

How long was the fuse?

For Pete's sake.

You know, it happened a long time ago.
I'm an old man.

My memory isn't that perfect. Get
off my back, here. Will you?

Oh, I'm sure you can remember
killing two little children.

Long enough for me to get the
hell out of there. Okay?

Except for one thing. The bomb
didn't have a fuse. It had a timer.

What are you saying?

I'm saying you weren't alone.
There was somebody else.

There's not a chance in hell you could
have built a timing device by yourself.

The FBI, they searched your house,
your garage, your premises.

They didn't find a single
trace of explosives anywhere.

Well, maybe they're stupid.

Maybe I was just real careful
and didn't leave a trail.

Yeah. And maybe someone
else planted the bomb.

You have no idea
what you're doing.

Just hear me out.

Sam couldn't construct
a timer if he wanted to.

His bombs were simple, crude little things.
They had fuses.

This one was different.
It was complex for back then.

It was timed.
It was timed to kill.

Okay. Wait a minute.

Sam did not plant that bomb.
He did not kill those kids.

Wait!

If the Sovereignty Commission
has a file on Sam,

it might also tell us
who else was involved,

who was pulling the strings,
making decisions!

Adam, just stop
this. Okay?

Those files are sealed
by the state legislature.

If your client won't sign, you cannot
move the court to unseal them.

I bet you know a way we
could take a peek at them.

No.

You said you wanted to help me.
I am helping you.

Well, maybe you need to do more.

Well, maybe I can't do more.

Nora, if there's others, and you're
involved in protecting them...

Are you threatening me?

I am pursuing the truth
by any means necessary!

Which includes politely
asking for your help.

In addition to appealing cruel and
unusual, I wanna file a new motion.

About time you focused
on the law, bubba.

I never stopped focusing
on the law, bubba!

But there is nothing that I will
not pursue in order to get a stay,

including proving
that you're insane.

I'm insane?
That's right.

I'm gonna argue that as a product of
three generations of Klan mentality,

your preconscious
indoctrination into a world

of hate and distortion
born of irrational fear

has resulted in diminished mental
capacity to determine right from wrong.

Oh. You're gonna
argue I'm insane

because I held different
political beliefs

than you and your father

and this naive, nigger-loving,
bleeding-heart bullshit!

Well, I probably won't use
those exact words in my brief.

I'll just wait and see
the psychiatrist's report.

Oh, I'm gonna see
a psychiatrist, am I?

That's right.

Hmm. That's insane.

Killing two 5-year-olds 'cause
their father was working

for civil rights is insane.

Never meant to kill those kids.

Well, that's fine.
But it just happens to be the crime

which you're scheduled to be
executed for in exactly 14 days.

Okay.

Good.

I need to go over some more
family background with you.

I got some stuff from Lee, but
there's a lot of holes in it.

She's going through
a tough time right now.

I tried to call her when I saw
this, but she didn't answer.

I think she's drinking again.

Did you know she's an alcoholic?

Have you ever felt feelings of
remorse for any of your crimes?

No.

Have you ever apologized
to your victims' family?

No, what would be the point?

What do you think
would be the point?

No point.

Packer.

I want you to know that when
I talk about your people,

I...

Well...

I hear you, Sam.

In your professional opinion,
then, does Sam Cayhall

have anything that might even
remotely be called a conscience?

I found no evidence of one.

Dr. Biddows, in your opinion, is
Sam Cayhall in touch with reality?

No, he is not.

Thank you, Dr. Biddows.

No further questions,
Your Honor.

What saith the state?

The state calls
Sergeant Clyde Packer.

Sergeant Packer, would you
inform this court how long

you have held your present
position, please?

Been running the row
for 15 years, sir,

and Sam's been with me
the whole time.

And during this time, have you
ever observed Mr. Cayhall

demonstrate he might
have a conscience?

Cared about other
people's feelings?

Oh, yes, sir.

Everybody knows that Sam has a real
bad attitude toward black folk.

But just the other night
he told me to my face,

when he says stuff like that...

Let's just say
he tried to apologize.

And he didn't even
get it all out.

And it sure don't make him no saint,
but for Sam, that's a big deal.

He most certainly do has a conscience.
Yes, sir.

And during all this time that you been
observing Mr. Cayhall so closely,

would you say he knows
what's going on around him?

Would you say he's out
of touch with reality?

A couple of nights back, I was
walking past, and he said, "Clyde."

He never called me that before,
so I knew it was important.

Could I help?
"With what, Sam?"

And he said, "I wanna die alone."

"And I wanna die
in decent clothes."

"I wanna eat an Eskimo Pie."

"And could
I see a sunrise?"

I said,
"Last one's on me, Sam."

So I snuck him out,
gave him a hour alone.

I watched through the inside.

I thought he might lose it
once the sun started coming.

See, it's been 15 or 16 years
since Sam last saw dawn break.

But he held together just fine.

In your opinion,
based on your observations,

is Sam Cayhall
in touch with reality?

Sam? You betcha.

Thank you, Sergeant Packer.

Thank you.

Tender the witness, Your Honor.

What's happening
in the Fifth Circuit?

Thumbs down on insanity
later today. Hi.

Hi.
There you are.

What's young
Mr. Hall been up to?

No change.

Try again. What has he
been working on?

He's looking everywhere
for new information.

What kind of information?

Nora?

Sir?

You're not sleeping
with him, are you?

No.

Then what kind of information?

Anything, everything.
He's desperate.

Where is he looking?

I don't know.
Well, find out.

Desperate people are dangerous.

Maybe you ought to be
sleeping with him.

Hey.

Can we talk?

Sure.

Tammy?

The Sovereignty Commission
files, the originals,

under lock and key
in the Hall of Records.

Why can't zoning reports
wait for tomorrow?

You ask the Governor. I like my job.
Nora.

Nora, Nora.

It's you that I'm scared of.

Bink, please. I've gotta
get this done tonight.

I'll lock up for you.

Our little secret.

You and me.

Have a good evening.

Uh-huh.

This way.

Sovereignty Commissions.

"White Citizen's
Council, Indianola."

Go back.

"M.K. situation should
be followed through."

Marvin Kramer.

Or Martin King.

"Law office, March 18."
It's Marvin Kramer.

When was the bombing?

April 28.

"Action agreed September 2." I
thought you said it was in April.

That's not a date.
That's nine to two.

Jesus Christ, they took a vote.
Oh, my God.

"Commission assigned S.C."

Sam Cayhall.
What's R.W.?

You mean, who's R.W.

Hi. Thanks.

Truth time, Sam.
Five days.

We're firing everything we have
up to the Supreme Court, but.

I need to know
who R.W. is.

Sam, I saw the
Commission's files.

You were with
someone named R.W.

The two of you were assigned
to bomb the Kramer office.

Assigned by the same people who took no
responsibility for the death of those kids

and, as far as I can see, are
gonna take no responsibility

for what's about
to happen to you.

I believe you call
these people cowards.

Why in God's name you feel compelled
to protect them is beyond me.

First of all,

you sniveling little
son of a bitch,

if you ever speak to me
like this again,

I'll rip your heart out
and shove it up your butt.

Second, if you spent half as much
time learning to be a lawyer

instead of playing Dick Tracy,

I might stand a chance of not
being dead in five days.

As it stands right now,
everything you tried has failed.

You've failed!

Now I have to pay the price.

You're a failure! Just like
your pathetic father was.

That son of a bitch didn't
have the balls to live.

He was a loser and a quitter.

And he just gave his life away.

How dare he?

What right did he
have to do that?

It wasn't his to give! I gave it to him!
Hey, hey, Sam!

His mama gave it to him!
It was God's!

He had no right! He just
gave it away, God damn it!

He gave it away! You hear me?
He gave it away!

- Why'd he do that?
- Come on.

He gave it away!

Hi. Is she home?

Miss Lee's upstairs resting.
She can't see you now.

Lee?

Where are you, Lee?

Lee?

Lee?

Lee?

Oh, Jesus.

Lucky little nephew.

Did I ever show you

my favorite old family picture?

Come on.

I'm coming.

I never kept
an actual photo album.

Mostly because I never
kept any actual photos.

Here. Come here.

Here. Now, there.

See?

He was a cute little
thing, wasn't he?

The problem is

he was raised to be a monster.

Trained from birth.

We come from a long
line of hate, Adam.

That's why I drink.

Make it all go away.

Now you're here,

and it won't go away anymore.

Go home.

I've got three things
to say to you.

Number one. I'm your
lawyer until you fire me.

I'm not quitting.
Number two.

The day you killed Joe Lincoln,

your sweet little 7-year-old
daughter was in the laurel tree.

She watched her daddy murder a
defenseless man in cold blood.

And three. Quince Lincoln
never stole a thing.

My father found that toy
soldier underneath his bed,

but he was too
terrified to tell you.

He had to live with that
for the rest of his sad life.

Maybe you didn't have the balls to
put a stop to this, Sam. But I do.

It ends with me.
We got four days left.

This is our last appeal, and it's
called mitigating circumstances.

Talk to me.

Talk to me, Sam!

I'm tired of talking.

I'm tired of waking up every morning
knowing I'm one day closer to dying.

I'm tired of living in a cage,

tired of these
crappy cigarettes,

just praying I'll die of
cancer before they gas me.

But mostly I'm just
tired of waiting.

Just let me rest.

I'm really touched you feel close enough
to share your feelings with me, Sam.

But at the moment,
I don't really give a damn.

I'm too busy
trying to win my case.

Now, start talking!

Here are some
synonyms for "mitigating."

"Glossing over, sugarcoating,"

"prettifying."

There's nothing pretty about
twin boys being blown to bits.

There's no glossing over
the suicide of their father.

And there's no
sugarcoating this fact.

My client is guilty, and he
deserves to be punished.

"Mens rea,
to do the thing."

Sam Cayhall did the thing.

But he does not
deserve to be murdered,

because he was taught from birth
that he had to do the thing.

That is what this court
must come to understand.

He never knew he had any other recourse
but hatred and bigotry and violence.

His uncles were Klansmen,
his brothers were Klansmen,

his father was a Klansman,
even his grandfather.

His great-grandfather was one
of the cofounding members

of that hateful organization.

I recently saw a photograph
of him at a lynching.

He was 10, and it was his third.

Of course this is awful.
It's evil.

But blood and death were
served with Sunday breakfast.

His father was murdered at a funeral.
My client saw it.

As the court is no doubt aware,

my client is also
my grandfather.

I'd like now to tell you some warm and
wonderful stories about our family.

Except I don't know any.

In fact, I don't find my grandfather
even remotely wonderful.

But I know this.

The very things that
make him so monstrous

are the very reasons that mitigate
against this state murdering him.

He was raised by his family and by this
state to become the man that he became.

By the time he was old enough to
choose, he didn't have a choice.

This is the tragedy
of Sam Cayhall.

It's a tragedy that has
destroyed three lives already.

In the name of mercy,

let it not murder what
little is left of his life.

Thank you for seeing
me like this.

Why are you here?

I'm hoping you'll ask the
Governor to show some mercy.

Tell him that you don't
want my client to die.

I don't want him to die.

I don't want him to.
But I fear he must.

See, that's not true.
It isn't.

Your word would carry a lot
of weight with the Governor,

and no one knows more than you that
there's already been enough suffering.

It could all end
right here. Right now.

I didn't take them to nursery school
that morning because I was sick.

So I waved goodbye
from my bedroom window

and watched them leapfrog
off to their death.

Bye, Mommy!
I love you!

You see, the whole
thing was my fault.

Be good!

Adam.
Ma'am?

Why are you really here?

I came home one day and found
my father on the floor

in my bedroom with
a gun in his hand.

And I remember wondering, "What are
all those towels doing there?"

And then I realized that he had
arranged the towels in a circle

and then very carefully laid
down in the center of them

so that he wouldn't make a mess.

In his note, he said
that he loved me,

and he was sorry,

and he hoped that
one day I'd understand.

He told me I'd have to take
care of my mom and my sister.

There was a plastic garbage bag that
was also on the floor next to him,

and I was supposed to put
the towels in the bag,

clean up the mess
and call the police.

"Don't touch the gun," he said.

"Hurry up before
the girls get home."

See, he had picked a day when he
knew I'd be the first one home.

I was 10.

I would dearly love
to help you, Adam.

Please know this.

Sam Cayhall destroyed
both our families.

Mine just died first.

And I'm sorry,
but he has to die.

Why?

He has to die because I had
champagne at my birthday party.

He has to die because a
story needs an ending.

He has to die because I don't
care if he had no choice.

He chose to bomb that building.

And my family died.

You know, they were
your age then.

And they would've
been your age now.

Haven't given up, have you?

Sometimes I just like to see
if I still have what it takes.

Jesus. What are you doing here?

I've been watching you, kid.

You deserve the facts.

Back in '67, I found an old drunk.
He was a dishwasher.

Claimed the night before
the Kramer bombing,

he saw Sam in a diner
with another guy.

I need a name.

The description matched a guy
that we always suspected, but...

R.W.

Hey! Rollie Wedge.

He was a real hater.
But smart.

And we could never
tie him to anything.

Where is he now?

They've gathered.

You know, sort of
like a reunion.

The night before the big
execution and all that.

I figure, if he's
here, he's there.

Slapped the hell out of him.

Don't let the door
hit you in the ass...

Hey!

He wasn't able to make it.

Outside! Get off of me! Shut up!

Come on.
Get him out of here.

Go on, fucker!

Get out of here! Yeah!

Yeah!

Get away from that boy.

Let's git!

Thank you. Oh, God.

Thank you.

I appreciate it.

You do?

Rollie Wedge.

One of the many names
I've been called.

What do you think
you're doing here?

You planted the bomb
that killed those kids.

Were you planning
a citizen's arrest?

I just want to
hear you admit it.

Delusion, Mr. Hall. You're
looking for a clean yes,

so you can identify, quantify,
organize the concept of evil.

If I did it, then I'm the evil,

and I can be culled
from the flock.

Removed, separated, destroyed.

Evil can be destroyed.

And all you good people can feel
safe in the cocoon of your denial.

Sam says you're his people.

We are one.

Is this how you
treat your people?

Huh?

Let them take the fall for you?

What about loyalty? Huh?
What about the truth?

The truth, based on your
laws, Attorney Hall,

is that Sam Cayhall is guilty and
has been sentenced to death.

Perhaps it's time for you
to show some loyalty,

and let justice be served.

And after it is,

always look behind you.

Always.

- He's probably still there.
- Uh-huh.

And?

Look, if Sam were being tried
as an accomplice right now

the most he would
get is 20 years.

Now, you said you
wanted new information.

With all due respect,

this is hardly compelling
evidence of anything.

Grant a stay.
Give me more time.

All right, men. Listen up.
It's now 0800 hours.

I'm hereby activating the
emergency operations center

and placing this institution
on lockdown status.

And I expect each of you to
discharge your duty accordingly.

No second-guessing,
no improvising.

This execution will
take place in 16 hours.

What you did to those babies

no one could ever
forgive you for.

But what you did to me

and Eddie,

I've got to.

Not for you, old man.

For me.

Eddie said

you'd never have
shot Joe Lincoln

if I'd have cried out
for you not to.

Is that why you came here?

No.

Would you still have shot him?

Yeah. Yeah.

The Fifth Circuit
Court of Appeals

denied Sam Cayhall's
last appeal.

The U.S. Supreme Court will
rule later today on his fate.

If they deny, Governor David
McAllister will be his last chance.

The execution is set
for 12:01 tomorrow morning.

Stephanie Bell Flynt, WLBT News.

You got a light, yeah?

Sam.

Met some of your
real people last night.

Real interesting group,
your real people.

Especially Rollie Wedge.

Rollie Wedge.

He was real interesting.

I have to talk to the guards.

Rack out Sam.

You look a lot like
your brother, Mr. Cayhall.

I came to pay my respects, Sam.

Say goodbye.

Make sure you're still strong.

I saw those two little kids.

They was in the window.

That was a mistake.

We kept two little Jews from
growing up into big Jews.

When their nigger-loving
father killed hisself,

it was like dropping a little
hook-nosed pebble in a pond.

The ripples went out with a
message for all the world to see.

A Jew is weak.

How do you figure
that for a mistake?

Wasn't supposed
to be no killing.

Don't go soft, Sam.

The day is coming.

I wish you could stick around
to see it, buddy. It's coming.

Every day more and more
people are opening their eyes

to see the only thing
wrong with this country

is we've gone against
the laws of nature.

God's law.

Only the strong
have a right to survive.

And now, finally,

those not worthy,

the Jew, the African,

he who lies with another man,

they're all digging
their own graves.

And when we pile them in there,

I'll drink a toast to you, Sam.

And I'll piss it out
on their dead faces.

No.

You've been a good
and loyal soldier, Sam.

Go with the dignity
that is yours.

Don't be confused
by that little boy!

He's got his daddy's
weak blood in him.

He ain't pure.
He ain't us.

No. You son of a bitch, you.
You son of a bitch.

I ain't you.
I ain't you!

You touch my kid,
and I'm gonna kill you!

Rip your head off! I'll kill
you, you goddamn son of a bitch.

You know who this is?

Your brother.

Oh, no, he ain't my brother!
You ain't my brother!

Better get out of here.

I'll be praying for you, Sam.

You go to hell, you son of a bitch, you!
Go to hell!

I'll be praying for you.

Rack Sam.

No word from the courts.

I'd like you to mail these
for me, if you would.

I don't have the addresses.

Don't give up, Sam.

Mmm-hmm.

There is one other thing.

Take that.

Rack Sam.

It's the Supreme Court.

Coffee's French Market,
just like you asked.

Thank you.

Rack back.

Adam Hall.

Yeah. Okay.

It ain't over, Sam.

It ain't over.

The United States
Supreme Court has denied

a flurry of last-minute appeals
on behalf of Sam Cayhall.

Gas his ass!
Gas his ass!

Gas his ass!
Gas his ass!

Hurry, hurry. Let's go. Here.

Go! Come on.

Cayhall signed the request.

Goodman's in court right now, asking to
open up the Sovereignty Commission files.

What should we do?
Do?

I don't recall being asked to do anything.
Let's just see what's in there.

It suggests an accomplice to
the Kramer bombing, for one.

Some far-right crazy
named Rollie Wedge.

How the hell do you know that?

We'll discuss it later.
Now, if you'll excuse us.

What were you saying?

I'm just saying I don't think
it's gonna work, that's all.

There are other names.
Some familiar.

Knowing in advance
might be very useful.

It's the Governor, sir.

Hello, Governor.
Senator.

Sam Cayhall's attorneys are trying to
get some Sovereignty files released

that you and some of your
colleagues might not appreciate.

I got a proposition for y'all,
but you have to act fast.

Can't go home
if you're going by the mill

'Cause the bridge washed out
at the bottom of the hill.

The big creek's up
and the little creek's level.

Plow my corn
with the double shovel.

Stay all night
Stay a little longer.

Dance all night
Dance a little longer.

These are for you, Cayhall.

I can offer you
a sedative if you'd like.

All right.

Then you'd best start changing.
I'll be back in 30 minutes.

Don't be late.

Pull off your coat
Throw it in the corner.

Don't see why you don't
stay a little longer.

Oh, the mule and the
grasshopper eating ice cream.

Gas his ass! Gas his ass!
Gas his ass! Gas his ass!

Rack up Cayhall.

It's all right.

Appeal's on the 28th,
now, don't forget.

I left your papers with
Barry in the law library.

Thanks, Sam.

Ladies and gentlemen,

the governor of the great
state of Mississippi,

the honorable
David Allen McAllister.

Tonight,

the Supreme Court
of the United States

rejected all appeals filed
on behalf of Sam Cayhall.

So at this moment of truth,

I must face the terrible
burden of this office

that is mine and mine alone.

The question for me tonight is,

who is David Allen McAllister

to imagine in his finest hour...
See you, J.B.

he could ever prove wiser than
the jury... See you soon, Sam.

And the 47 judges... Spit in
their eye, Sam. Spit in their eye.

Who have reviewed this case...
Praying for you, Sam.

Over the last 16 years?
Hey, Sam.

The answer is clear. Remember,
the Lord is with you.

In the matter of life and
death, none among us

are more knowing
than our system of justice.

Tonight, however,

information has come
to us suggesting.

Mr. Cayhall may not have acted
alone in this heinous crime.

Now, if these allegations
prove to be true,

rest assured,
anyone found to be involved

will be prosecuted to the
fullest extent of the law.

However...
Freeze! Hands up!

No matter how many additional people
may be implicated in the future,

it does not change

a fundamental fact.

Sam Cayhall is
guilty as charged,

and Sam Cayhall
must pay the price.

So it...

It is with the greatest humility

that I bow in deference
to that great lady, Justice.

At one minute past midnight,

Sam Cayhall will meet his maker.

The final judgment
will truly be his.

To the family of
the victims, we say

nothing can replace your
great and terrible loss.

Revenge will never lessen

the unfillable void
left by those now gone.

We pray with you

that God may grant us
the strength and the courage

to prevent crimes
like this from ever again

darkening our soil with the
blood of the innocent.

Good night.

And God bless America.

Kid, don't. Don't try
to save me anymore.

I know someplace inside of you,

you're trying to stir up
some kind of miracle.

We can't forget
who Sam Cayhall is

or the kind of
thinking he represents.

I'm sure you haven't.

And the other names?

Very useful information.

It'll help us effect some
real change next session.

Isn't that why
we're doing this job?

All progress is
a negotiation, Nora.

Of all the people and things
I hated my whole life,

the one I hated most was me.

I was given free entry into this world
to make of it whatever I could.

Been sitting here for 16 years.

I was thinking I never
did anybody any good.

Till you came down.

You see, if I'm gonna
be proud of you,

I gotta be proud of your daddy.

He wasn't weak.
He was strong.

Strong enough to get away.

Strong enough to give you
whatever it is that you got.

If he was able to
give that to you,

I reckon this old man must've
passed on something good to him.

I didn't know that.

I'm ready.

You come on in.
We been waiting for you.

You know where you're going?

Moving right along.

Come on, man!

What the fuck's going on?

Sam, this is your death warrant.

You know I'm required
by law to read it to you.

"We, the jury, find unanimously
and beyond a reasonable doubt

"the following aggravating
circumstances.

"The capital murder was committed
while the defendant was engaged

"in the commission of a felony.

"The capital murder was especially
heinous, atrocious and cruel.

"We, the jury, find
unanimously, from the evidence

"and beyond a reasonable
doubt, the defendant,"

"Sam Cayhall,
should be put to death"

"by lethal gas at the Mississippi
State Penitentiary,."

"Parchman, Mississippi,
the 13th day of April, 1996."

And no stays.

Is there any reason why this
execution should not proceed?

None.

Any final words,
Mr. Cayhall?

Maybe the ghosts are gone, Lee.

Maybe.

Thank you, Adam