“You want him examined by a shrink?”

“We’ve got to.”

“Oh my God,” Gary said. “I can see the headlines now.” “The hell with the headlines. There’s something wrong with this boy. I don’t know what it is, but you’ve seen how different he appears at different times. And when he says he doesn’t remember the rapes, I believe him. He should be examined.” “And who pays for it?”

“We’ve got funds,” she said.

“Yeah, millions.”

“Oh, come on, we can afford to have him tested by a psychologist.”

“Tell it to the judge,” Gary grumbled.

When the court agreed to a delay so that William Milligan could be examined by a psychologist, Gary Schweickart then turned his attention to the on-site hearing by the Adult Parole Authority at eight-thirty Wednesday morning.

“They’re going to send me back to Lebanon,” Milligan said. “Not if we can help it,” Gary said.

“They found guns in my apartment. And that was one of the conditions of my parole. ‘Never purchase, own, possess, use or have under your control a deadly weapon or firearm.’”

“Well, maybe,” Gary said. “But if we’re going to defend you, we want you here in Columbus, where we can work with you, not off in Lebanon prison.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Just leave it to me.”

Gary saw Milligan s smile, the excitement in his eyes he had not seen before. He was relaxed, easygoing, trading jokes in an almost light-hearted way. A very different person from that bundle of nerves he’d met the first day. It might be a lot easier to defend him than he’d thought.

“That’s it,” Gary told him. “Keep cool.”

He led Milligan into the conference room, where members of the Adult Parole Authority were already passing around copies of a report by Milligan’s parole officer and testimony of Sergeant Dempsey that during Milligan’s arrest he had found a 9-millimeter Smith and Wesson and a .25-caliber semiautomatic with a clip of five bullets.

“Tell me, gentlemen,” Schweickart asked, rubbing his beard with his knuckles, “have these weapons been test-fired?” “No,” said the chairman, “but they’re genuine guns, with clips.”

“If they have not been shown capable of propelling ballistics, what makes them guns?”

“Well, the test-firing won’t be done until next week.”

Gary slammed his open hand on the table. “But I insist you make your decision about his parole revocation today or else wait until after the court hearing. Now, is this a gun or is it a toy? You haven’t proven to me that this thing is a gun.” He looked around from one to the other.

The chairman nodded. “Gentlemen, I believe we have no alternative but to postpone the parole revocation until we determine whether or not this is a gun.”

At ten-fifty the following morning, Milligan’s parole officer delivered a notice that a parole revocation hearing would be held on December 12, 1977, at the Lebanon Correctional Institution. Milligan’s presence was not required.

Judy went to see Milligan about the evidence the Crime Scene Search Unit had found in his apartment.