Final Appeal Read Free Page A

write, he realized that he’d missed one already. Now he’d have to explain, and Jack told him not to volunteer anything, just to answer the questions and remember to smile. This would have to be an exception.
    â€œHart is my stage name, Dr. Bowman. I’ve been using it ever since I graduated from college. My legal name is Gerhardt, Michael Allen Gerhardt.”
    Dr. Bowman nodded, “Very good, Michael. I’m glad you made that distinction. Could you please give me your last street address?”
    Michael hesitated. Surely, they didn’t want the address of the prison where he’d spent his first few months. Or the hospital where he’d gone through the surgeries. He’d try the apartment. That must be right.
    â€œSixty-one fifty-five Franklin Avenue, apartment eighteen, Hollywood, California. I . . . I’m not sure of the zip code. Nine-zero-zero-two-six?”
    Dr. Bowman referred to his notes. “It was nine-zero-zero-two-eight, but that’s perfectly acceptable. This board doesn’t expect you to be able to pass a postal service quiz on zip codes.”
    There was a titter of laughter, and Michael remembered to smile. Normal people were expected to smile politely, no matter how lame the joke.
    â€œAnd what were your parent’s names?”
    â€œRobert Stanley Gerhardt and Cassie, that’s short for Cassandra, Gerhardt.”
    â€œAnd your mother’s maiden name?”
    â€œCassandra Michele Norman.”
    â€œDo you have any relatives living in the state of California?”
    â€œYes. My older brother, Stan Gerhardt, lives in Los Angeles and my Aunt Alice . . .” Michael faltered as he realized that Aunt Alice was dead. That was two he’d missed already, and the interview had just started. “I’m sorry, Dr. Bowman. I just remembered that my Aunt Alice Norman passed away last year.”
    â€œShe did?” Dr. Bowman studied the folder for a moment. “Yes, that’s correct. Michael. Now, do you know today’s date?”
    â€œSeptember fourteenth.”
    â€œAnd the day of the week?”
    â€œThursday.”
    â€œDid you say Thursday?” Dr. Bowman frowned. Michael nodded, and the social worker spoke up again.
    â€œHe’s right, doctor. Today is Thursday.”
    Dr. Bowman glared at her, and Michael hoped she wouldn’t get into trouble. She was the only one on the board who seemed to be on his side.
    â€œLet’s go on then, Michael, who is the current president of the United States?”
    Michael froze. How was he supposed to know that?
    It wasn’t fair!
    â€œI . . . I’m not sure. Dr. Bowman. We’re not allowed to watch the news on television because it upsets some of the patients and we don’t have access to newspapers. I do know that nineteen eighty-eight was an election year, and the last time I heard, Vice President Bush was leading in the polls.”
    Michael winced as several board members made notes. If he’d known they were going to ask about the president, he would have found out from Jack.
    â€œAll right, Michael.” Dr. Bowman referred to the sheet of paper again. “I realize that the following material may be painful, but we must have your complete recollection of the events that occurred ten years ago on . . . uh . . . what was that date again?”
    There was an uncomfortable silence, and finally the social worker spoke. “October second, doctor.”
    â€œThank you, Mrs. Gray.” Turning his focus back to the patient, Dr. Bowman said, “Michael? Please answer the question.”
    Michael took a deep breath. He’d gotten this far before, but after he’d told them and exposed all his fears and uncertainties, they’d still denied his release.
    â€œOctober second was the day my wife, Carole died.”
    â€œDied?”
    â€œShe was murdered. And I was convicted.”
    â€œVery good, go on Michael.”
    â€œI had an