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"Powerful...Compelling...Katzenbach is a skilled storyteller who knows how to set up the kind of big and small questions that make one want to keep turning the pages"
Now a Warner Bros. Motion Picture starring Sean Connery.
At first report Matt Cowart doesn't believe the claims of innocence from Robert Earl Ferguson, Death Row inmate. But the more Coward digs into his case, the more he believes that, as a black man, Ferguson is a victim of hate and prejudice, and that the wrong man is going to be executed. Cowart lets fly a series of hard-hitting investigative articles that ultimately frees Ferguson and gets Cowart a Pulitzer Prize. He's a hero, a celebrity, a big-hearted guy--who has unwittingly set in motion a scenario of horror and death....
ain't got a chance of being someplace else.' I can think of another reason,' said the younger cop. 'What's that?' Shaeffer asked. The policeman gestured with his arm. 'You want to hide. You want maybe to get swallowed up a bit. Best place in the world.' He pointed at an abandoned building, pivoted in his seat and looked back at her. 'Parts of these cities, they're like the jungle or a swamp. We pass a building like that, been hit by fire, abandoned, whatever, there's no way to know what's
these things, all sewn together into a nice fabric, because otherwise, you've got nothing except awful feelings and guesses. And just because some little girl got snatched away, right out there on the outskirts of that big old evil city, Mr. Cowart, and I happened to be in that town some two days earlier, well, that isn't proof of anything, is it? How many killers you think there are in Miami at any given moment? How many men wouldn't think twice about grabbing some little girl who was walking
an oil-stained gas station to use bathrooms that stank with a pungent mixture of disinfectant battling excrement. Their conversation had been limited, a few half hearted attempts at finding some commonality, lapsing into long silences. They had spoken a bit of technique, of the difference in crimes between the Panhandle and the Keys, knowing that differences were merely superficial. Shaeffer had asked questions about Brown and Cowart, but discovered that Wilcox merely idolized the first and
any familiar territory, driven by anger, would pursue a man deep into a country they clearly thought was not a part of the United States, but some alien nation with its own rules, laws, and codes of behavior. Tanny Brown bristled at their attitudes, thinking them racist, if logistically correct. Shaeffer marveled at their callousness. More than once, she promised herself that no matter how terrible things might become for her as a policeman, she would never succumb to what she heard in their
prison waiting for the state to come get him. So he went and got the state. It's not that unusual. Others have done it – Texas, North Carolina, Gilmore out in Utah. It's sorta like suicide, only officially sanctioned.' He saw pens scraping across paper, his words falling onto so many blank pages. 'What did he tell you when you went back there and talked with him?' Cowart felt pinioned by despair. And then he remembered something Sullivan had told him earlier: If you want someone to believe a