Sorry for these ridiculously short chapters. Hopefully I will get time to write some more soon! :)

Chapter 37 – Looking for the answer

Finding the right moment to talk to Coffey was easier said than done. After the incident the warden had no other choice but to enhance the security at E-block, which meant more floaters patrolling the death row both day and night. There wasn't a moment's peace until one very late evening four days after Wharton death when Paul pulled the shift with Dean and Brutus. As soon as the last floater had said goodnight and left the office, Dean was on tenterhooks.

"Okay," Paul said slowly and put the paperwork aside. "Let's go check if he's still awake."

Brutus glared up from his card game and raised his brows, when they stepped out of the office and joined him at the front desk. Now?

Paul nodded towards Alice's cell and whispered: "She asleep?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Good."

The men moved closer to Coffey's cell. As hoped and expected, Coffey was still awake. He turned his head towards them and Paul was kind of relived to see that he wasn't crying this evening. Now when he thought about it, Coffey hadn't been crying at all after Wharton's death, like he used to; quietly sobbing in the dark after the lights had been turned of at night. He had seemed more at peace these last couple of days, even after Paul had revealed the date of his execution. Nothing seemed to be able to shake him anymore. He didn't even look surprise to see them standing outside his cell at this God forsaken hour.

"How are you doing, John?" Dean whispered good-heartedly as Paul shook out his key and unlocked the door.

"Fine, boss," Coffey rumbled and eyed them carefully, but calmly, before sitting up on his bunk.

"John," Paul said gently. "We would like to talk to you for a moment, if that's al'right?"

Coffey nodded and Paul and Dean stepped inside. Brutus waited by the cell door, arms crossed expectantly, while he watched the front desk and the main entrence.

"John, do you remember the night we brought you to the sick lady?" Paul began slowly.

Coffey smiled. "She was a nice lady."

"Yes, she is. But do you also remember what happened, when we brought you back?"

Coffey nodded slowly and Paul felt his heartbeat rise, though he had no idea why.

"Why did you do it?" he whispered, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Why did you shoot Wharton?"

There was a long pause. Coffey looked at all three of them at turns and it was hard to read his expression.

"'Cus he was a bad man."

"Yes, we get that, but why was he a bad man? What had he done?"

For a moment Coffey's eyes seemed strangely distant, almost glassy. Like he had disappeared into a long lost memory.

"He killed 'em," he responded silently, looking down at his hands. "He killed 'em with their love."

Paul frowned. "Who, John? The girls?"

Coffey blinked and raised his head, once again present.

"Miss Alice is scared to move on," he said thoughtfully.

Paul shared a glare with Dean: See? I told you?

"We know, John," he said gently. "It's unfortunate that she has to be moved, but she has nothing to be afraid of, I guarantee it."

"She has nothing to be afraid of," Coffey repeated, now looking straight at Paul.

"Exactly."

"Can I go to sleep now, boss?"

"Yes, of course."

They stepped out of the cell and locked the door and Coffey lay down and closed his eyes. Paul watched his serene face, wondering how it had come to this. When had the roles been switched? How come Coffey was now the one at peace and himself nothing but a chaotic mess inside?

oOo

"Do you think that count as a confession?" Brutus asked, when they sat down at the office desk.

"I think that's all you can expect from Coffey," Paul said thoughtfully.

"So he did kill Wharton through Percy?"

Paul nodded.

"But, why?" Dean asked. He moved around the office like a restless animal in a cage. Paul wished he would just sit down. "What does: 'He killed them with their love', even mean?"

"Even if he was talking about the girls," Brutus contributed. "It doesn't really make any sense, does it? How can you kill something with their love? Hate I could understand, but love?"

"I have no idea," Paul answered in a tired voice.

Dean shook his head as though trying to get rid of a bothersome fly.

"I think we're forgetting the most important clue here," he said, looking around at them. "If Wharton is the real murder, then Coffey is innocent. We are going to kill an innocent man."

"Not exactly," Brutus said, somewhat thoughtful. "He killed Wharton."

"If Wharton really killed those girls, he deserved it," Dean burst out.

"I didn't say that, but a righteous murder is still a murder. You wanna spare Alice as well?"

"So he deserves it, is that what you're saying?"

"No…" Brutus said slowly. "But the law is the law."

"No one besides us knows that he killed Wharton."

"Well, no one besides us knows that it was Wharton who really killed the Detterick girls, so how're you gonna prove it, Dean?"

"Guys!" Paul said loudly, when Dean opened his mouth to give a heatedly answer. "Could you stop for a moment? No matter who's innocent and who isn't, there's absolutely nothing we can do about it. Coffey has killed the only person who could clear his name and that's the end of the story."

A strained silence filled the office. Dean looked thunderstruck.

"But…" he said. "There must be something we can do!"

"I scarcely believe it, Dean, sorry…"

"John could tell them!" Dean blurted out. "He knows it. He could tell them the truth."

"And say what?" Brutus asked darkly. "That he saw what Wharton'd done, when he touched him? They would think he'd gone haywire, us as well – if we could get him to talk at all, that was."

"And even if he did…" Paul sighed. "Who would ever believe the words of a black man?"