PARTISAN REVIEW
603
prison doctor has just left; the new cast, a pinkish color, is still damp.
"Speaking as your lawyer, I don't know whether this affects your chances
for parole or not."
My feet, thinks Jekyll. No, not my feet.
Lanyon is still talking. "Attempted murder is still attempted murder, even
if the intended victim dies for whatever reason shortly after."
"Did he leave me a note?" Jekyll demands in a husky voice.
Lanyon hands Jekyll a small white envelope. Jekyll tears it open. Inside is a
sheet of ruled paper from a school notebook, on which is the imprint in lipstick
of a large mouth. Lanyon tries to look over Jekyll's shoulder, but Jekyll is too
quick and crumples the paper before the lawyer can see, stuffing it into the top
of his right cast.
"What does he say? It could be useful in the file I'm submitting to the
parole board."
Jekyll shakes his head. "Did he leave any other messages?" he says coldly.
"For Utterson."
"What did it say?"
"He admits it was he who made that unsuccessful attempt to hurn down
the Institute on October 16th."
"Poor pretentious bastard," says Jekyll, hiding his disappointment.
"Shut up! I'm trying to sleep!" grumbles the successful murderer in the
upper bunk.
During a moment's silence, Jekyll looks down at his handsome, large,
somewhat bony hands. "And what did Utterson say to that?"
"You know Utterson." Lanyon laughs, with his discordant, old man's
laugh. "He says it would have been fine with him if Hyde had succeeded. He
says that everybody is free to do as he or she likes."
"Oh, freedom.. .." Jekyll munches on some vanilla fudge his wife had
brought him that morning. His body feels both dense and light. Leaning back
comfortably in his bunk,he settles his feet, both encased to mid-calf in plaster,
one dry and the other still wet,on the extra pillow he's been given,and smiles.
"Don't speak to me about freedom."
