John Grisham 9 страница

Jake was waiting in Ozzie's office when they sneaked back into the jail. Ozzie and Moss Junior excused themselves, leaving the defendant with his lawyer.

" Where have y'all been? " Jake asked suspiciously.

" Went to the hospital to see Looney. "

" You what! "

" Nothin' wrong, is it? "

" I wish you would check with me before you make any more visits. "

" What's wrong with seein' Looney? "

" Looney will be the star witness for the State when they attempt to send you to the gas chamber. That's all. He ain't on our side, Carl Lee, and any talking you do with Looney should be with your attorney present. Understand? "

" Not really. "

" I can't believe Ozzie would do that, " Jake mumbled.

" It was my idea, " Carl Lee admitted.

" Well, if you get any more ideas, please let me know about them. Okay? "

" Okay. "

" You talked to Lester lately? "

" Yeah, him and Gwen came by today. Brought me goodies. Told me 'bout the banks. "

Jake planned to play hardball about his fee; no way he could represent Carl Lee for nine hundred dollars. The case

would consume his practice for the next three monms ai least, and nine hundred would be less than minimum wage. It would not be fair to him or his family to work for nothing. Carl Lee would simply have to raise the money. There were plenty of relatives. Gwen had a big family. They would just have to sacrifice, maybe sell a few automobiles, maybe some land, but Jake would get his fee. If not, Carl Lee could find another lawyer.

" I'll give you the deed to my place, " Carl Lee offered.

Jake melted. " I don't want your place, Carl Lee. I want cash. Sixty-five hundred dollars. "

" Show me how, and I'll do it. You the lawyer, you figure out a way. I'm with you. "

Jake was beat and he knew it. " I can't do it for nine hundred dollars, Carl Lee. I can't let this case bankrupt me. I'm a lawyer. I'm supposed to make money. "

" Jake, I'll pay you the money. I promise. It may take a long time, but I'll pay you. Trust me. "

Not if you're on death row, thought Jake. He changed the subject. " You know the grand jury meets tomorrow, and it'll take up your case. "

" So I go to court? "

" Naw, it means you'll be indicted tomorrow. The courthouse will be full of people and reporters. Judge Noose will be here to open the May term of court. Buckley'll be running around chasing cameras and blowing smoke. It's a big day. Noose starts an armed robbery trial in the afternoon. If you're indicted tomorrow, we'll be in court Wednesday or Thursday for the arraignment. "

" The what? "

" The arraignment. In a capital murder case, the judge is required by law to read the indictment to you in open court in front of God and everybody. They'll make a big deal out of it. We'll enter a plea of not guilty, and Noose sets the trial date. We ask for a reasonable bond, and he says no. When I mention bond Buckley'll scream and turn cartwheels. The more I think of him the more I hate him. He'll be a large pain in the ass. "

" Why don't I get a bond? "

" For capital murder, the judge does not have to set a bond. He can if he wants to, but most don't. Even if Noose

set a bond, you couldn't pay it, so don't worry about it. You'll be in jail until trial. "

" I lost my job, you know. "

" When? "

" Gwen drove over Friday and got my paycheck. They told her. Nice, ain't it. Work there eleven years, miss five days, and they fire me. Guess they think I ain't comin' back. "

" I'm sorry to hear that, Carl Lee. Real sorry. "

The Honorable Omar Noose had not always been so honorable. Before he became the circuit judge for the Twenty-second Judicial District, he was a lawyer with meager talent and few clients, but he was a politician of formidable skills. Five terms in the Mississippi Legislature had corrupted him and taught him the art of political swindling and manipulation. Senator Noose prospered handsomely as chairman of the Senate Finance Committee, and few people in Van Buren County questioned how he and his family lived so affluently on his legislative salary of seven thousand dollars a year.

Like most members of the Mississippi Legislature, he ran for reelection one time too many, and in the summer of 1971 he was humiliated by an unknown opponent. A year later, Judge Loopus, his predecessor on the bench, died, and Noose persuaded his friends in the Legislature to persuade the governor to appoint him to serve the unexpired term. That's how ex-State Senator Noose became Circuit Judge Noose. He was elected in 1975, and reelected in 1979 and 1983.

Repentant, reformed, and very humbled by his rapid descent from power, Judge Noose applied himself to the study of the law, and after a shaky start, grew to the job. It paid sixty thousand a year, so he could afford to be honest. Now, at sixty-three, he was a wise old judge, well respected by most lawyers and by the state Supreme Court, which seldom reversed his rulings. He was quiet but charming, patient but strict, and he had a huge monument of a nose that was very long and very pointed and served as a throne for his black-rimmed, octagon-shaped reading glasses, which he wore constantly but never used. His nose, plus his tall, gawky frame, plus his wild, untamed, dense gray hair, plus his squeaky voice, had given rise to his secret nickname, whispered among lawyers, of Ichabod. Ichabod Noose. The Honorable Ichabod Noose.

He assumed the bench, and the crowded courtroom stood as Ozzie mumbled incoherently a statutorily required

paragraph to officially open the May term of the Ford County Circuit Court. A long, flowery prayer was offered by a local minister, and the congregation sat down. Prospective jurors filled one side of the courtroom. Criminals and other litigants, their families and friends, the press, and the curious filled the other side. Noose required every lawyer in the county to attend the opening of the term, and the members of the bar sat in the jury box, all decked out in full regalia, all looking important. Buckley and his assistant, D. R. Mus-grove, sat at the prosecution's table, splendidly representing the State. Jake sat by himself in a wooden chair in front of the railing. The clerks and court reporters stood behind the large red docket books on the workbench, and with everyone else. watched intently as Ichabod situated himself in his chair upon the bench, straightened his robe, adjusted his hideous reading glasses, and peered over them at the assemblage.

" Good morning, " he squeaked loudly. He pulled the microphone closer and cleared his throat. " It's always nice to be in Ford County for the May term of court. I see most members of the bar found time to appear for the opening of court, and as usual, I will request Madam Clerk to note those absent attorneys so that I may personally contact them. I see a large number of potential jurors present, and I thank each of you for being here. I realize you had no choice, but your presence is vital to our judicial process. We will empanel a grand jury momentarily, and then we will select several trial juries to serve this week and next. I trust each member of the bar has a copy of the docket, and you will note it looks somewhat crowded. My calendar reveals at least two cases set for trial each day this week and next, but it's my understanding most of the criminal cases set for trial will go off on negotiated plea bargains. Nonetheless, we have many cases to move, and I request the diligent cooperation of the bar. Once the new grand jury is empaneled and goes to work, and once the indictments start coming down, I will schedule arraignments and first appearances. Let's quickly call the docket, criminal first, then civil; then the attorneys may be excused as we select a grand jury.

" State versus Warren Moke. Armed robbery, set for trial this afternoon. "

Buckley rose slowly, purposefully. " The State of Missis-

sippi is ready for trial, Your Honor, " he announced gloriously for the spectators.

" So's the defense, " said Tyndale, the court-appointed lawyer.

" How long do you anticipate for trial? " asked the judge.

" Day and a half, " answered Buckley. Tyndale nodded in agreement.

" Good. We'll select the trial jury this morning and start the trial at one P. M. today. State versus William Daal, forgery, six counts, set for tomorrow. "

" Your Honor, " answered D. R. Musgrove, " there will be a plea in that case. "

" Good. State versus Roger Hornton, grand larceny, two counts, set for tomorrow. "

Noose continued through the docket. Each case drew the same response. Buckley would stand and proclaim the State ready for trial, or Musgrove would quietly inform the court that a plea had been negotiated. The defense attorneys would stand and nod. Jake had no cases in the May term, and although he tried his best to look bored, he enjoyed the call of the docket because he could learn who had the cases and what the competition was doing. It was also a chance to look good before some of the local folks. Half the members of the Sullivan firm were present, and they too looked bored as they sat arrogantly together in the front row of the jury box. The older partners of the Sullivan firm would not dare make an appearance at docket call, and they would lie and tell Noose they were in trial in Federal Court over in Oxford or perhaps before the Supreme Court in Jackson. Dignity prevented their mingling with the ordinary members of the bar, so the firm's younger lieutenants were sent to satisfy Noose and request that all the firm's civil cases be continued, postponed, delayed, stalled, or acted upon in such a way that the firm could drag them on forever and continue to bill by the hour. Their clients were insurance companies who generally preferred not to go to trial and would pay by the hour for legal maneuvering designed solely to keep the cases away from the juries. It would be cheaper and fairer to pay a reasonable settlement and avoid both litigation and the parasitic defense firms like Sullivan & O'Hare, but the insurance companies and their adjusters were too stupid and

cheap, so street lawyers like Jake Brigance earned their livelihoods suing insurance companies and forcing them to pay more than what they would have paid had they dealt fairly from the beginning. Jake hated insurance companies, and he hated insurance defense attorneys, and he especially hated the Sullivan firm's younger members, all of whom were his age, and all of whom would gladly cut his throat, their associates' throats, their partners' throats, anyone's throat to make partner and earn two hundred thousand a year and skip docket calls.

Jake particularly hated Lotterhouse, or L. Winston Lot-terhouse, as the letterhead proclaimed him, a little four-eyed wimp with a Harvard degree and a bad case of haughty self-importance who was next in line to make partner and thus had been especially indiscriminate with his throat cutting during the past year. He sat smugly between two other Sullivan associates and held seven files, each of which was being charged a hundred dollars per hour while he answered the docket call.

Noose began the civil docket. " Collins versus Royal Consolidated General Mutual Insurance Company. "

Lotterhouse stood slowly. Seconds meant minutes. Minutes meant hours. Hours meant fees, retainers, bonuses, partnerships.

" Your Honor, sir, that case is set prime for a week from Wednesday. "

" I realize that, " Noose said.

" Yes, sir. Well, sir, I'm afraid I must ask for a continuance. A conflict has developed in my trial calendar for that Wednesday, and I have a pretrial conference in Federal Court in Memphis that the judge has refused to continue. I regret this. I filed a motion this morning asking for a continuance. "

Gardner, the plaintiffs attorney, was furious. " Your Honor, that case has been set prime for two months. It was set for trial in February, and Mr. Lotterhouse had a death in his wife's family. It was set for trial last November, and an uncle died. It was set for trial last August, and there was another funeral. I guess we should be thankful that this time no one has died. "

There were pockets of light laughter in the courtroom. Lotterhouse blushed.

" Enough is enough, Your Honor, " Gardner continued. " Mr. Lotterhouse would prefer to postpone this trial forever. The case is ripe for trial, and my client is entitled to one. We strenuously oppose any motion for a continuance. " . Lotterhouse smiled at the judge and removed his glasses. " Your Honor, if I may respond-"

" No, you may not, Mr. Lotterhouse, " interrupted Noose. " No more continuances. The case is set for trial next Wednesday. There will be no more delays. "

Hallelujah, thought Jake. Noose was generally soft on the Sullivan firm. Jake smiled at Lotterhouse.

Two of Jake's civil cases were continued to the August term. When Noose finished the civil docket, he dismissed the attorneys, and turned his attention to the pool of prospective jurors. He explained the role of the grand jury, its importance and procedure. He distinguished it from the trial juries, equally important but not as time consuming. He began asking questions, dozens of questions, most of them required by law, all dealing with ability to serve as jurors, physical and moral fitness, exemptions, and age. A few were useless, but nonetheless required by some ancient statute. " Are any of you common gamblers or habitual drunkards? "

There were laughs but no volunteers. Those over sixty-five were automatically excused, at their option. Noose granted the usual exemptions for illnesses, emergencies, and hardships, but he excused only a few of the many who requested pardons for economic reasons. It was amusing to watch the jurors stand, one at a time, and meekly explain to the judge how a few days of jury duty would cause irreparable damage to the farm, or the body shop, or the pulpwood cutting. Noose took a hard line and delivered several lectures on civic responsibility to the flimsier excuses.

From the venire of ninety or so prospects, eighteen would be selected for the grand jury, and the rest would remain available for selection as trial jurors. When Noose completed his questioning, the clerk drew eighteen names from a box and laid them on the bench before His Honor, who began calling names. The jurors, one by one, rose and walked slowly toward the front of the courtroom, through

the gate in the railing, and into the cushioned, swivel rocking seats in the jury box. There were fourteen such seats, twelve for the jurors and two for the alternates. When the box was rilled, Noose called four more who joined their colleagues in wooden chairs placed in front of the jury box.

" Stand and take the oath, " instructed Noose as the clerk stood before them holding and reading from a little black book that contained all the oaths. " Raise your right hands, " she directed. " Do you solemnly swear or affirm that you will faithfully discharge your duties as grand jurors; that you will fairly hear and decide all issues and matters brought before you, so help you God? "

A chorus of assorted " I do's" followed, and the grand jury was seated. Of the five blacks, two were women. Of the thirteen whites, eight were women, and most were rural. Jake recognized seven of the eighteen.

" Ladies and gentlemen, " Noose began his usual speech, " you have been selected and duly sworn as grand jurors for Ford County, and you will serve in that capacity until the next grand jury is empaneled in August. I want to stress that your duties will not be time consuming. You will meet every day this week, then several hours each month until September. You have the responsibility of reviewing criminal cases, listening to law enforcement officials and victims, and determining whether or not reasonable grounds exist to believe the accused has committed the crime. If so, you issue an indictment, which is a formal charge placed against the accused. There are eighteen of you, and when at least twelve believe a person should be indicted, the indictment is issued, or returned, as we say. You have considerable power. By law, you can investigate any criminal act, any citizen suspected of wrongdoing, any public official; really anybody or anything that smells bad. You may convene yourself whenever you choose, but normally you meet whenever the district attorney, Mr. Buckley, wants you. You have the power to subpoena witnesses to testify before you, and you may also subpoena their records. Your deliberations are extremely private, with no one being present but yourselves, the D. A. and his staff, and the witnesses. The accused is not allowed to appear before you. You are expressly forbidden to discuss anything that is said or transpires in the grand jury room.

" Mr. Buckley, would you please stand. Thank you. This is Mr. Rufus Buckley, the district attorney. He's from Smith-field, in Polk County. He will sort of act as your supervisor while you deliberate. Thank you, Mr. Buckley. Mr. Mus-grove, will you stand. This is D. R. Musgrove, assistant district attorney, also from Smithfield. He will assist Mr. Buck-ley while you are in session. Thank you, Mr. Musgrove. Now, these gentlemen represent the State of Mississippi, and they will present the cases to the grand jury.

" One final matter: the last grand jury in Ford County was empaneled in February, and the foreman was a white male. Therefore, in keeping with tradition and following the wishes of the Justice Department, I will appoint a black female as foreman of this grand jury. Let's see. Laverne Gos-sett. Where are you, Mrs. Gossett? There you are, good. I believe you are a schoolteacher, correct? Good. I'm sure you'll be able to handle your new duties. Now, it's time for you to get to work. I understand there are over fifty cases waiting on you. I will ask that you follow Mr. Buckley and Mr. Musgrove down the hall to the small courtroom that we use for a grand jury room. Thank you and good luck. "

Buckley proudly marched his new grand jury out of the courtroom and down the hall. He waved at reporters and had no comments-for the time being. In the small courtroom they seated themselves around two long, folding tables. A secretary rolled in boxes of files. An ancient half-crippled, half-deaf, long-retired deputy in a faded uniform took his position by the door. The room was secure. Buckley had second thoughts, excused himself, and met with the reporters in the hall. Yes, he said, the Hailey case would be presented that afternoon. In fact, he was calling a press conference for 4: 00 P. M. on the front steps of the courthouse, and he would have the indictments at that time.

After lunch, the chief of the Karaway Police Department sat at one end of the long table and shuffled nervously through his files. He avoided looking at the grand jurors, who anxiously awaited their first case.

" State your name! " barked the D. A.

" Chief Nolan Earnhart, Karaway City Police. "

" How many cases do you have, Chief? "

" We have five from Karaway. "

" Let's hear the first one. "

" Okay, let's see, all right, " the chief mumbled and stuttered as he flipped through his paperwork. " Okay, the first case is Fedison Bulow, male black, age twenty-five, got caught red-handed in the rear of Griffin's Feed Store in Karaway at two o'clock in the mornin', April 12. Silent alarm went off and we caught him in the store. Cash register had been broken into, and some fertilizer was gone. We found the cash and the goods in a car registered in his name parked behind the store. He gave a three-page confession at the jail, and I've got copies here. "

Buckley walked casually around the room smiling at everyone. " And you want this grand jury to indict Fedison Bulow on one count of breaking and entering a commercial building, and one count of grand larceny? " Buckley asked helpfully.

" Yes, sir, that's right. "

" Now, members of the grand jury, you have the right to ask any questions. This is your hearing. Any questions? "

" Yes, does he have a record? " asked Mack Loyd Crow-ell, an unemployed truck driver.

" No, " replied the chief. " This is his first offense. "

" Good question, always ask that question because if they have prior records we may need to indict them as habitual criminals, " lectured Buckley. " Any more questions? None? Good. Now at this point, someone needs to make a motion that the grand jury return a true bill of indictment against Fedison Bulow. "

Silence. The eighteen stared at the table and waited for someone else to make a motion. Buckley waited. Silence. This is great, he thought. A soft grand jury. A bunch of timid souls afraid to speak. Liberals. Why couldn't he have a bloodthirsty grand jury eager to make motions to indict everybody for everything?

" Mrs. Gossett, would you like to make the first motion, since you're the foreman? "

" I so move, " she said.

" Thank you, " said Buckley. " Now let's vote. How many vote to indict Fedison Bulow on one count of breaking and

entering a commercial building and one count of grand larceny? Raise your hands. "

Eighteen hands went up, and Buckley was relieved.

The chief presented the other four cases from Karaway. Each involved defendants equally guilty as Bulow, and each received unanimous true bills. Buckley slowly taught the grand jury how to operate itself. He made them feel important, powerful, and laden with the heavy burden of justice. They became inquisitive:

" Does he have a record? "

" How much time does that carry? "

" When will he get out? "

" How many counts can we give him? "

" When will he be tried? "

" Is he out of jail now? "

With five indictments out of the way, with five true bills and no dissension, with the grand jury eager for the next case, whatever it might be, Buckley decided the mood was ripe. He opened the door and motioned for Ozzie, who was standing in the hall talking quietly with a deputy and watching the reporters.

" Present Hailey first, " Buckley whispered as the two met in the door.

" Ladies and gentlemen, this is Sheriff Walls. I'm sure most of you know him. He has several cases to present. What's first, Sheriff? "

Ozzie scrambled through his files, lost whatever he was looking for, and finally blurted, " Carl Lee Hailey. "

The jurors became quiet again. Buckley watched them closely to gauge their reactions. Most of them stared at the table again. No one spoke while Ozzie reviewed the file, then excused himself to get another briefcase. He had not planned to present the Hailey case first.

Buckley prided himself on reading jurors, of watching their faces and knowing precisely their thoughts. He watched the jury constantly during a trial, always predicting to himself what each was thinking. He would cross-examine a witness and never take his eyes off the jury. He would sometimes stand and face the jury box and interrogate a witness and watch the faces react to the answers. After hundreds of trials he was good at reading jurors, and he knew

instantly he was in trouble with Hailey. The five blacks grew tense and arrogant as if they welcomed the case and the inevitable argument. The foreman, Mrs. Gossett, looked particularly pious as Ozzie mumbled to himself and flipped papers. Most of the whites looked noncommittal, but Mack Loyd Crowell, a hard-looking middle-aged rural type, appeared as arrogant as the blacks. Crowell pushed back his chair and walked to the window, which looked over the north side of the courtyard. Buckley could not read him precisely, but he knew Crowell was trouble.

" Sheriff, how many witnesses do you have for the Hailey case? " Buckley asked, somewhat nervously.

Ozzie stopped shuffling paper and said, " Well, uh, just me. We can get another if we need one. "

" All right, all right, " replied Buckley. " Just tell us about the case. "

Ozzie reared back, crossed his legs, and said, " Shoot, Rufus, everbody knows about this case. Been on TV for a week. "

" Just give us the evidence. "

" The evidence. Okay, one week ago today, Carl Lee Hailey, male black, age thirty-seven, shot and killed one Billy Ray Cobb and one Pete Willard, and he shot a peace officer, one DeWayne Looney, who's still in the hospital with his leg cut off. The weapon was an M-16 machine gun, illegal, which we recovered and matched the fingerprints with those of Mr. Hailey. I have an affidavit signed by Deputy Looney, and he states, under oath, that the man who did the shootin' was Carl Lee Hailey. There was an eyewitness, Murphy, the little crippled man that sweeps the courthouse and stutters real bad. I can get him here if you want. "

" Any questions? " interrupted Buckley.

The D. A. nervously watched the jurors, who nervously watched the sheriff. Crowell stood with his back to the others, looking through the window.

" Any questions? " Buckley repeated.

" Yeah, " answered Crowell as he turned and glared at the D. A., then at Ozzie. " Those two boys he shot, they raped his little girl, didn't they, Sheriff? "

" We're pretty sure they did, " answered Ozzie.

" Well, one confessed, didn't he? "

" Yep. "

Crowell walked slowly, boldly, arrogantly across the room, and stood at the other end of the tables. He looked down at Ozzie. " You got kids, Sheriff? "

" Yep. "

" You got a little girl? "

" Yep. "

" Suppose she got raped and you got your hands on the man who did it. What would you do? "

Ozzie paused and looked anxiously at Buckley, whose neck had turned a deep red.

" I don't have to answer that, " Ozzie replied.

" Is that so. You came before this grand jury to testify, didn't you? You're a witness, ain't you? Answer the question. "

" I don't know what I'd do. "

" Come on, Sheriff. Give us a straight answer. Tell the truth. What would you do? "

Ozzie felt embarrassed, confused, and angry at this stranger. He would like to tell the truth, and explain in detail how he would gladly castrate and mutilate and kill any pervert who touched his little girl. But he couldn't. The grand jury might agree and refuse to indict Carl Lee. Not that he wanted him indicted, but he knew the indictment was necessary. He looked sheepishly at Buckley, who was perspiring and seated now.

Crowell zeroed in on the sheriff with the zeal and fervor of a lawyer who had just caught a witness in an obvious lie.

" Come on, Sheriff, " he taunted. " We're all listenin'. Tell the truth. What would you do to the rapist? Tell us. Come on. "

Buckley was near panic. The biggest case of his wonderful career was about to be lost, not at trial, but in the grand jury room, in the first round, at the hands of an unemployed truck driver. He stood and struggled for words. " The witness does not have to answer. "

Crowell turned and shouted at Buckley, " You sit down and shut up! We don't take orders from you. We can indict you if we want to, can't we? "

Buckley sat and looked blankly at Ozzie. Crowell was a ringer. He was too smart to be on a grand jury. Someone

must have paid him. He knew too much. Yes, the grand jury could indict anyone.

Crowell retreated and returned to the window. They watched him until it appeared he was finished.

" Are you absolutely sure he done it, Ozzie? " asked Le-moyne Frady, an illegitimate distant cousin to Gwen Hailey.

" Yes, we're sure, " Ozzie answered slowly, with both eyes on Crowell. ,

" And you want us to indict him for what? " asked Mr. Frady, the admiration for the sheriff obvious.

" Two counts of capital murder, and one count of assault on a peace officer. "

" How much time you talkin' about? " asked Barney Flaggs, another black.

" Capital murder carries the gas chamber. Assault on a deputy carries life with no parole. "

" And that's what you want, Ozzie? " asked Flaggs.

" Yeah, Barney, I say this grand jury should indict Mr. Hailey. I sure do. "

" Any more questions? " interrupted Buckley.

" Not so fast, " replied Crowell as he turned from the window. " I think you're tryin' to ram this case down our throats, Mr. Buckley, and I resent it. I wanna talk about it some. You sit down and if we need you, we'll ask you. "