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Adam quickly did as she instructed。 He carefully laid his keys in the bucket where they joined a dozen other key rings。 She jerked it back and he watched it rise for a few seconds； then stop。 She tied the rope somehow； and the little red bucket hung innocently in the air。 A nice breeze would have moved it gently； but at the moment； in this stifling vacuum； there was scarcely enough air to breathe。 The winds had died years ago。
The guard was finished with him。 Someone somewhere pushed a button or pulled a lever； Adam had no idea who did it； but a humming noise kicked in； and the first of two bulky； chain…link gates began to slide a few feet so he could enter。 He walked fifteen feet along the dirt drive； then stopped as the first gate closed behind him。 He was in the process of learning the first basic rule of prison security … every protected entrance has either two locked doors or gates。
When the first gate stopped behind him and locked itself into place； the second one dutifully snatched itself free and rolled along the fence。 As this was happening； a very stocky guard with arms as big as Adam's legs appeared at the main door of the unit and began to amble along the brick path to the entrance。 He had a hard belly and a thick neck； and he sort of waited for Adam as Adam waited for the gates to secure everything。
He eased forward an enormous black hand； and said； 〃Sergeant Packer。〃 Adam shook it and immediately noticed the shiny black cowboy boots on Sergeant Packer's feet。
〃Adam Hall；〃 he said； trying to manage the hand。
〃Here to see Sam；〃 Packer stated as a fact。
〃Yes sir；〃 Adam said； wondering if everyone here referred to him simply as Sam。
〃Your first visit here？〃 They began a slow walk toward the front of the building。
〃Yeah；〃 Adam said； looking at the open windows along the nearest tier。 〃Are all death row inmates here？〃 he asked。
〃Yep。 Got forty…seven as of today。 Lost one last week。〃
They were almost to the main door。 〃Lost one？〃
〃Yeah。 The Big Court reversed。 Had to move him in with the general population。 I have to frisk you。〃 They were at the door； and Adam glanced around nervously to see just exactly where it was that Packer wished to conduct the frisk。
〃Just spread your legs a little；〃 Packer said； already taking the briefcase and placing it on the concrete。 The fancy tasseled loafers were now stuck in place。 Though he was dizzy and momentarily without the use of all his faculties； Adam could not at this horrible moment remember anyone ever asking him to spread his legs； even just a little。
But Packer was a pro。 He patted expertly around the socks； moved up quite delicately to the knees； which were more than a little wobbly； then around the waist in no time flat。 Adam's first frisk was mercifully finished just seconds after it started when Sergeant Packer made a rather cursory pass under both arms as if Adam might be wearing a shoulder harness with a small pistol inside it。 Packer deftly stuck his massive right hand into the briefcase； then handed it back to Adam。 〃Not a good day to see Sam；〃 he said。
〃So I've heard；〃 Adam replied； slinging his jacket once again over his shoulder。 He faced the iron door as if it was now time to enter the Row。
〃This way；〃 Packer mumbled as he stepped down onto the grass and headed around the corner。 Adam obediently followed along yet another little red…brick trail until they came to a plain； nondescript door with weeds growing beside it。 The door was not marked or labeled。
〃What's this？〃 Adam asked。 He vaguely recalled Goodman's description of this place； but at the moment all details were fuzzy。
〃Conference room。〃 Packer produced a key and unlocked the door。 Adam glanced around before he entered and tried to gather his bearings。 The door was next to the central section of the unit； and it occurred to Adam that perhaps the guards and their administrators didn't want the lawyers underfoot and poking around。 Thus； the outside entrance。
He took a deep breath and stepped inside。 There were no other lawyers visiting their clients； and this was particularly forting to Adam。 This meeting could bee tumultuous and perhaps emotional； and he preferred to do it in private。 At least for the moment the room was empty。 It was large enough for several lawyers to visit and counsel； probably thirty feet long and twelve feet wide with a concrete floor and bright fluorescent lighting。 The wall on the far end was red brick with three windows high at the top； just like the exterior of the unit's tiers。 It was immediately obvious that the conference room had been added as an afterthought。
The air conditioner； a small window unit； was snarling angrily and producing much less than it should。 The room was divided neatly by a solid wall of brick and metal； the lawyers had their side and the clients had theirs。 The partition was made of brick for the first three feet； then a small counter provided the lawyers a place to sit their mandatory legal pads and take their pages of mandatory notes。 A bright green screen of thick metal grating sat solidly on the counter and ran up to the ceiling。
Adam walked slowly to the end of the room； sidestepping a varied assortment of chairs … green and gray government throwaways； folding types； narrow cafeteria seats。
〃I'm gonna lock this door；〃 Packer said as he stepped outside。 〃We'll get Sam。〃 The door slammed； and Adam was alone。 He quickly picked out a place at the end of the room just in case another lawyer arrived； at which time the other lawyer would undoubtedly take a position far to the other end and they could plot strategy with some measure of privacy。 He pulled a chair to the wooden counter； placed his jacket on another chair； removed his legal pad； unscrewed his pen； and began chewing his fingernails。 He tried to stop the chewing； but he couldn't。 His stomach flipped violently； and his heels twitched out of control。 He looked through the screen and studied the inmates' portion of the room … the same wooden counter； the same array of old chairs。 In the center of the screen before him was a slit； four inches by ten； and it would be through this little hole that he would e face…to…face with Sam Cayhall。
He waited nervously； telling himself to be calm； take it easy； relax； he could handle this。 He scribbled something on the legal pad； but honestly couldn't read it。 He rolled up his sleeves。 He looked around the room for hidden microphones and cameras； but the place was so simple and modest he couldn't imagine anyone trying to eavesdrop。 If Sergeant Packer was any indication； the staff was laid…back； almost indifferent。
He studied the empty chairs on both sides of the screen； and wondered how many desperate people； in the last hours of their lives； had met here with their attorneys and listened for words of hope。 How many urgent pleas had passed through this screen as the clock ticked steadily away？ How many lawyers had sat where he was now sitting and told their clients that there was nothing left to do； that the execution would proceed？ It was a somber thought； and it calmed Adam quite a bit。 He was not the first to be here； and he would not be the last。 He was a lawyer； well tr