The Walls Come Tumbling Down

James Gunther waits for Hutch to arrive.

I gave myself 20 minutes to write this story. I’ve always been fascinated by Gunther’s actions towards the end of Sweet Revenge. It’s my own personal head canon that he meant to kill himself but didn’t have the gumption to do it. His expression as Hutch arrests him is such an expression of disbelief.

Thomas leaves Bates and me alone when I tell him I will serve the coffee. He doesn’t question my not allowing him this task.

Good man, Thomas. I do have my standards—one of which is not causing an innocent man to be a murderer. He doesn’t know what I put in the sugar bowl. Doesn’t know I prepared for this day from the moment I found out Detective Sergeant David Starsky stubbornly refused to die.

Bates continues to prattle on, speaking as though he believes we will come through this unscathed. Maybe he is just pretending to believe. Maybe he knows the noose is tightening and has been for weeks. Maybe he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t realize the import of what has happened, what is happening.

I prepare his coffee adding the poison. He takes it trusting me. I am doing it for your own good, Bates, I tell myself. He looks at me as he takes his first sip and then back down at the papers he’s spread out.

“Sir? Aren’t you going to drink coffee…” His face changes and he gets to his feet, stumbles away from me. “What…” He falls into a chair and the coffee cup falls into his lap. It is not a pleasant death.

I hesitate over my own cup—my plan now changed. I thought I was ready to go with him, but I’m not. When I go, I want to take Hutchinson with me. One of them must pay the price of my downfall with his life. Knowing what I know about Starsky and Hutchinson, the death of one will bring about the death of the other.

I sit down and tell Bates my story—my history. I have no one to carry on the family name. I never had time for marriage when I was young, and now as my life winds down to its inevitable demise this day, I realize my only legacy is my wealth. I don’t know what will happen to it now. My house of cards has been blown over and scattered.

Thomas announces that Sergeant Hutchinson has arrived. I thought I would hear sirens but I hear nothing other than the ticking of the clock. I move behind my desk—a power move. It’s also where I keep my gun. Sergeant Hutchinson will go out along with me. I will pull the gun on him, threaten him with it. My finger will tighten on the trigger—whether I pull it will be up to him. If he pulls his gun, I will pull the trigger. He will shoot me as I shoot him. We both die. If he hesitates, I will wait him out and then he will make an error and kill me. It will ruin his career when it’s found I never pulled the trigger.

Hutchinson comes into my office. My first thought when I see him is of the Archangel Michael in all his glory, armed for battle against Satan. But he is just a man like I am. I remind myself of that. He stands tall and proud. A glance over at Bates does not deter him from his task.

And…he doesn’t do what I planned. He doesn’t pull his weapon. He only throws the warrant on my desk and reaches for his handcuffs.

I show the gun and he shows no fear. None. And I realize he is a man with nothing to lose in this. My world crumbles as he orders me to stand.

I am no longer James Marshall Gunther, the man who turned down running for president because it would have not given me enough power. I am no longer James Marshall Gunther a force to be reckoned with and feared. I am James Marshall Gunther, murderer, criminal. I am James Marshall Gunther, coward. I am James Marshall Gunther, the man who wishes he’d had the courage to take the poison, to hold the gun to his head and pull the trigger. I am James Marshall Gunther who sees my life turn to dust as the handcuffs bite into my wrists and Archangel Kenneth Hutchinson tells me my rights. I am James Marshall Gunther who wishes he was dead.