Martha Dunbar came out for a smoke. A bony, hard-looking woman, she explained through her tears, and between long drags on her cigarette, that she felt it was her fault Westley was about to be put to death. She knew, she said, that when Henry and Dunbar were leaving that morning 13 years ago, something bad was about to happen. As a favor, she asked Westley to go along and watch her husband's back.
"They are going to kill an innocent man!" she screamed to no one in particular, doubling over with grief. "He'll just be one more dead nigger to them."
At about 6:15 p.m., prison guards and Texas Rangers escorted those who would view the execution into two rooms, one on each side of the death chamber. Frank Hall's wife, daughter and two stepsons took their places in one room. Abrams stood in the other, with Westley's friends and family. Through the room window, he saw Westley strapped to a gurney. Marie Walker -- who had secured the recording she hoped would save Westley's life -- and Westley's brother, Ellis Williams, pressed their bodies against the Plexiglas, as close as they could get to the condemned man.
Only four news organizations sent reporters to the execution: Associated Press, United Press International, the Houston Press and the Huntsville Item. All had planned to cover the execution before Abrams issued his press release.
The warden asked Westley if he had any last words. Westley turned toward Hall's family and, one final time, claimed that he hadn't shot the man. Then he faced his own friends and family. "I love you all," he said. "God be with you."
Ellis Williams couldn't stand to watch the chemicals do their work. He walked to the back of the witness room and banged on the door, demanding to be let out.
Marie Walker pounded at the Plexiglas window and continued to stare at Westley's half-open eyes. "Wake up!" she cried. "Wake up!"
She collapsed on the floor. Abrams helped her to her feet, and then out the front door of the prison. Down the street, demonstrators were chanting anti-death penalty slogans.
After a few last words with Westley's family, Abrams and Scott got into their car and headed back to Houston. Abrams spent the long ride back second-guessing himself, thinking about things he might have done differently, strategies that might somehow have kept Westley alive. Later, he would say he never wanted to appeal another death penalty case: "My lance isn't long enough for that windmill."
Back at the law office, Abrams read the opinions that had arrived while he was in Huntsville, and then drove home. He was silent as he walked inside his house. Just as silently, his wife and two daughters put their arms around him.
