Retired Colonel George Nugent marched into the office of his
boss Phillip Naifeh, superintendent at Parchman.
“Have a seat, George,” Naifeh said to his assistant.
“Yes, sir.” Nugent lowered himself carefully into the seat so
that he would not spoil his perfectly ironed shirt and pants. His
haircut was military, very short. Nugent was fifty-two and had
served in Korea and Vietnam. He had been at Parchman as
assistant superintendent for two years. He was dependable, and he
loved rules. It was no secret that the colonel wanted Naifeh’s job
in a couple of years.
“George, I’ve been looking at the Cayhall matter. I don’t
know how much you know about the appeals, but we could be
looking at an execution in four weeks.”
“Yes, sir, I read about it in today’s paper.”
“Did you miss the Parris execution?” asked Naifeh.
“Yes, sir. By a few weeks,” he answered with a trace of
disappointment.
“So you haven’t been through one?”
“No, sir.”