1بخش

Mr. Dufresne, describe the confrontation you had with your wife the night she was murdered.

It was very bitter.

She said she was glad I knew, that she hated all the sneaking around.

And she said she wanted a divorce in Reno.

What was your response?

I told her I would not grant one.

“I’ll see you in hell before I see you in Reno.”

Those were the words you used, Mr. Dufresne, according to your neighbors.

If they say so. I really don’t remember. I was upset.

What happened after you argued with your wife?

She packed a bag.

She packed a bag to go and stay with Mr. Quentin.

Did you follow her?

I went to a few bars first.

Later, I drove to his house to confront them.

They weren’t home, so I parked in the turnout, and waited.

With what intention?

I’m not sure.

I was confused.

Drunk.

I think mostly, I wanted to scare them.

When they arrived, you went up to the house and murdered them.

No. I was sobering up.

I got back in the car, and I drove home to sleep it off.

Along the way, I stopped, and I threw my gun into the Royal River.

I feel I’ve been very clear on this point.

Well, where I get hazy is where the cleaning woman shows up the following morning and finds your wife in bed with her lover, riddled with 38 caliber bullets.

Now, does that strike you as a fantastic coincidence, Mr. Dufresne, or is it just me?

Yes, it does.

Yet you still maintain that you threw your gun into the river before the murders took place?

That’s very convenient. It’s the truth.

The police dragged that river for three days, and nary a gun was found.

So, there could be no comparison made between your gun and the bullets taken from the bloodstained corpses of the victims.

And that also is very convenient.

Isn’t it, Mr. Dufresne?

Since I am innocent of this crime, sir,

I find it decidedly inconvenient that the gun was never found.

Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve heard all the evidence.

We have the accused at the scene of the crime.

We have footprints, tire tracks, bullets strewn on the ground which bear his fingerprints, a broken bourbon bottle, likewise with fingerprints.

And most of all, we have a beautiful young woman and her lover lying dead in each other’s arms.

They had sinned.

But was their crime so great as to merit a death sentence?

Now, while you think about that think about this.

A revolver holds six bullets.

Not eight.

I submit that this was not a hot-blooded crime of passion.

That could be understood, if not condoned.

No. This was revenge of a much more brutal and cold-blooded nature.

You strike me as a particularly icy and remorseless man, Mr. Dufresne.

It chills my blood just to look at you.

By the power vested in me by the state of Maine,

I hereby order you to serve two life sentences, back to back.

One for each of your victims. So be it.

Sit.

We see by your file you’ve served 20 years of a life sentence.

Yes, sir.

You feel you’ve been rehabilitated?

Oh, yes, sir. Absolutely, sir.

I mean, I learned my lesson.

I can honestly say. I’m a changed man.

I’m no longer a danger to society.

That’s God’s honest truth.

Hey, Red. How’d it go?

Same old shit. Different day.

Yeah. I know how you feel. I’m up for rejection next week.

Yeah, I got rejected last week.

It happens.

Hey, Red. Bump me a deck.

Get the ** out of my face, will you, man? You’ve had five packs already.

Four. Five.

There must be a con like me in every prison in America.

I’m the guy who can get it for you.

Cigarettes, a bag of reefer if that’s your thing - a bottle of brandy to celebrate your kid’s high-school graduation.

Damn near anything, within reason.

Yes, sir. I’m a regular Sears and Roebuck.

So, when Andy Dufresne came to me in 1949 and asked me to smuggle Rita Hayworth into the prison for him,

I told him, “No problem.”