John Grisham 26 страница

The Klansmen shook their fists and shouted back:

" Fry Carl Lee! "

Two rows of troops lined the main sidewalk that divided the lawn and led to the front steps. Another row stood between the sidewalk and the Klansmen, and one between the sidewalk and the blacks.

As the jurors began arriving, they walked briskly through the rows of soldiers. They clutched their summonses and listened in disbelief as the two groups screamed at each other.

The Honorable Rufus Buckley arrived in Clanton and politely informed the guardsmen of who he was and what that meant, and he was allowed to park in his spot marked RESERVED FOR D. A. next to the courthouse. The reporters went wild. This must be important, someone had broken through the barricade. Buckley sat in his well-used Cadillac for a moment to allow the reporters to catch him. They surrounded him as he slammed the door. He smiled and smiled and made his way ever so slowly to the front door of the courthouse. The rapid fire of questions proved irresistible, and Buckley violated the gag order at least eight times, each time smiling and explaining that he could not answer the question he had just answered. Musgrove trailed behind carrying the great man's briefcase.

Jake paced nervously in his office. The door was locked. Ellen was downstairs working on another brief. Harry Rex was at, the Coffee Shop eating another breakfast and gossiping. The notecards were scattered on his desk, and he was

tired of them. He flipped through a brief, then walked to the French doors. The shouting echoed through the open windows. He returned to the desk and studied the outline of his opening comments to the prospective jurors. The first impression was critical.

He lay on the couch, closed his eyes, and thought of a thousand things he'd rather be doing. For the most part, he enjoyed his work. But there were moments, frightening moments like this one, when he wished he'd become an insurance agent or a stockbroker. Or maybe even a tax lawyer. Surely those guys didn't regularly suffer from nausea and diarrhea at critical moments in their careers.

Lucien had taught him that fear was good; fear was an ally; that every lawyer was afraid when he stood before a new jury and presented his case. It was okay to be afraid- just don't show it. Jurors would not follow the lawyer with the quickest tongue or prettiest words. They would not follow the sharpest dresser. They would not follow a clown or court jester. They would not follow the lawyer who preached the loudest or fought the hardest. Lucien had convinced him that jurors followed the lawyer who told the truth, regardless of his looks, words, or superficial abilities. A lawyer had to be himself in the courtroom, and if he was afraid, so be it. The jurors were afraid too.

Make friends with fear, Lucien always said, because it will not go away, and it will destroy you if left uncontrolled.

The fear hit deep in his bowels, and he walked carefully downstairs to the rest room.

" How are you, boss? " Ellen asked when. he checked on her.

" Ready, I guess. We'll leave in a minute. "

" There are some reporters waiting outside. I told them you had withdrawn from the case and left town. "

" At this moment, I wish I had. "

" Have you heard of Wendall Solomon? "

" Not right off hand. "

" He's with the Southern Prisoner Defense Fund. I worked under him last summer. He's tried over a hundred capital cases all over the South. He gets so nervous before a trial he can neither eat nor sleep. His doctor gives him seda-

tives, but he's still so jumpy no one speaks to him on opening day. And that's after a hundred of these trials. "

" How does your father handle it? "

" He has a couple of martinis with a Valium. Then he lies on his desk with the door locked and the lights off until it's time for court. His nerves are ragged and he's ill-tempered. Of course, a lot of that is natural. "

" So you know the feeling? "

" I know it well. "

" Do I look nervous? "

" You look tired. But you'll do. "

Jake checked his watch. " Let's go. "

The reporters on the sidewalk pounced on their prey. " No comment" he insisted as he moved slowly across the street toward the courthouse. The barrage continued.

" Is it true you plan to ask for a mistrial? "

" I can't do that until the trial starts. "

" Is it true the Klan has threatened you? "

" No comment. "

" Is it true you sent your family out of town until after the trial? "

Jake hesitated and glanced at the reporter. " No comment. "

" What do you think of the National Guard? "

" I'm proud of them. "

" Can your client get a fair trial in Ford County? "

Jake shook his head, then added, " No comment. "

A deputy stood guard a few feet from where the bodies had come to rest. He pointed at Ellen. " Who's she, Jake? "

" She's harmless. She's with me. "

They ran up the rear stairs. Carl Lee sat alone at the defense table, his back to the packed courtroom. Jean Gil-lespie was busy checking in jurors while deputies roamed the aisles looking for anything suspicious. Jake greeted his client warmly, taking special care to shake his hand, smile broadly at him, and put his hand on his shoulder. Ellen unpacked the briefcases and neatly arranged the files on the table.

Jake whispered to his client and looked around the courtroom. All eyes were on him. The Hailey clan sat handsomely in the front row. Jake smiled at them and nodded at Lester. Tbnya and the boys were decked out in their Sunday

clothes, and they sat between Lester and Gwen like perfect little statues. -The jurors sat across the aisle, and they were carefully studying Hailey's lawyer. Jake thought this would be a good time for the jurors to see the family, so he walked through the swinging gate in the railing and went to speak to the Haileys. He patted Gwen on the shoulder, shook hands with Lester, pinched each of the boys, and, finally, hugged Tonya, the little Hailey girl, the one who had been raped by the two rednecks who got what they deserved. The jurors watched every move of this production, and paid special attention to the little girl.

" Noose wants us in chambers, " Musgrove whispered to Jake as he returned to the defense table.

Ichabod, Buckley, and the court reporter were chatting when Jake and Ellen entered chambers. Jake introduced his clerk to His Honor and Buckley and Musgrove, and to Norma Gallo, the court reporter. He explained that Ellen Roark was a third-year law student at Ole Miss who was clerking in his office, and requested that she be allowed to sit near counsel table and participate in the proceedings in chambers. Buckley had no objections. It was common practice, Noose explained, and he welcomed her.

" Preliminary matters, gentlemen? " Noose asked.

" None, " said the D. A.

" Several, " said Jake as he opened a file. " I want this on the record. "

Norma Gallo started writing.

" First of all, I want to renew my motion for a change of venue-"

" We object, " interrupted Buckley.

" Shut up, Governor! " Jake yelled. " I'm not through, and don't interrupt me again! "

Buckley and the others were startled by this loss of composure. It's all those margaritas, thought Ellen.

" I apologize, Mr. Brigance, " Buckley said calmly. " Please don't refer to me as governor. "

" Let me say something at this point, " Noose started. " This trial will be a long and arduous ordeal. I can appreciate the pressure you're both under. I've been in your shoes many times myself, and I know what you're going through. You're both excellent lawyers, and I'm thankful that I have

two fine lawyers for a trial of this magnitude. I can also detect a certain amount of ill will between you. That's certainly not uncommon, and I will not ask you to shake hands and be good friends. But I will insist that when you're in my courtroom or in these chambers that you refrain from interrupting each other, and that the shouting be held to a bare minimum. You will refer to each other as Mr. Brigance, and Mr. Buckley, and Mr. Musgrove. Now do each of you understand what I'm saying? "

" Yes, sir. "

" Good. Then continue, Mr. Brigance. "

" Thank you, Your Honor, I appreciate that. As I was saying, the defendant renews his motion for a change of venue. I want the record to reflect that as we sit here now in chambers, at nine-fifteen, July twenty-second, as we are about to select a jury, the Ford County Courthouse is surrounded by the Mississippi National Guard. On the front lawn a group of Ku Klux Klansmen, in white robes, is at this very moment yelling at a group of black demonstrators, who are, of course, yelling back. The two groups are separated by heavily armed National Guardsmen. As the jurors arrived for court this morning, they witnessed this circus on the courthouse lawn. It will be impossible to select a fair and impartial jury. "

Buckley watched with a cocky grin on his huge face, and when Jake finished he said, " May I respond, Your Honor? "

" No, " Noose said bluntly. " Motion is overruled. What else do you have? "

" The defense moves to strike this entire panel. "

" On what grounds? "

" On the grounds that there has been an overt effort by the Klan to intimidate this panel. We know of at least twenty cross burnings. "

" I intend to excuse those twenty, assuming they all showed up, " said Noose.

" Fine, " Jake replied sarcastically. " What about the threats we don't know about? What about the jurors who've heard of the cross burnings? "

Noose wiped his eyes and said nothing. Buckley had a speech but didn't want to interrupt.

" I've got a list here, " Jake said, reaching into a file, " of the twenty jurors who received visits. I've also got copies of the police reports, and an affidavit from Sheriff Walls in which he details the acts of intimidation. I am submitting these to the court in support of my motion to strike this panel. I want this made a part of the record so the Supreme Court can see it in black and white. "

" Expecting an appeal, Mr. Brigance? " asked Mr. Buck-ley.

Ellen had just met Rufus Buckley, and now, seconds later, she understood exactly why Jake and Harry Rex hated him.

" No, Governor, I'm not expecting an appeal. I'm trying to insure that my man gets a fair trial from a fair jury. You should understand that. "

" I'm not going to strike this panel. That would cost us a week, " Noose said.

" What's time when a man's life is at stake? We're talking about justice. The right to a fair trial, remember, a most basic constitutional right. It's a travesty not to strike this panel when you know for a fact that some of these people have been intimidated by a bunch of goons in white robes who want to see my client hanged. "

" Your motion is overruled, " Noose said flatly. " What else do you have? "

" Nothing, really. I request that when you do excuse the twenty, you so do in such a way that the other jurors don't know the reason. "

" I can handle that, Mr. Brigance. "

Mr. Pate was sent to find Jean Gillespie. Noose handed her a list of the twenty names. She returned to the courtroom and read the list. They were not needed for jury duty, and were free to go. She returned to chambers.

" How many jurors do we have? " Noose asked her.

" Ninety-four. "

" That's enough. I'm sure we can find twelve who are fit to serve. "

" You couldn't find two, " Jake mumbled to Ellen, loud enough for Noose to hear and Norma Gallo to record. His Honor excused them and they took their places in the courtroom.

Ninety-four names were written on small strips of paper that were placed in a short wooden cylinder. Jean Gillespie spun the cylinder, stopped it, and picked a name at random. She handed it to Noose, who sat above her and everyone else on his throne, or bench, as it was called. The courtroom watched in dead silence as he squinted down that nose and looked at the first name.

" Carlene Malone, juror number one, " he shrieked in his loudest voice. The front row had been cleared, and Mrs. Malone took her seat next to the aisle. Each pew would seat ten, and there were ten pews, all to be filled with jurors. The ten pews on the other side of the aisle were packed with family, friends, spectators, but mainly reporters who scribbled down the name of Carlene Malone. Jake wrote her name too. She was white, fat, divorced, lower income. She was a two on the Brigance scale. Zero for one, he thought.

Jean spun again.

" Marcia Dickens, juror number two, " yelled Noose. White, fat, over sixty with a rather unforgiving look. Zero for two.

" Jo Beth Mills, number three. "

Jake sank a little in his seat. She was white, about fifty, and worked for minimum wage at a shirt factory in Karaway. Thanks to affirmative action, she had a black boss who was ignorant and abusive. She had a zero by her name on the Brigance notecard. Zero for three.

Jake stared desperately at Jean as she spun again. " Reba Betts, number four. "

He sunk lower and began pinching his forehead. Zero for four. " This is incredible, " he mumbled in the direction of Ellen. Harry Rex shook his head.

" Gerald Ault, number five. "

Jake smiled as his number-one juror took a seat next to Reba Betts. Buckley placed a nasty black mark by his name.

" Alex Summers, number six. "

Carl Lee managed a weak smile as the first black emerged from the rear and took a seat next to Gerald Ault. Buckley smiled too as he neatly circled the name of the first black.

The next four were white women, none of whom rated above three on the scale. Jake was worried as the first pew

filled. By law he had twelve peremptory challenges, free strikes with no reason required. The luck of the draw would force him to use at least half of his peremptories on the first pew.

" Walter Godsey, number eleven, " announced Noose, his voice declining steadily in volume. Godsey was a middle-aged sharecropper with no compassion and no potential.

When Noose finished the second row, it contained seven white women, two black men, and Godsey. Jake sensed a disaster. Relief didn't come until the fourth row when Jean hit a hot streak and pulled the names of seven men, four of whom were black.

It took almost an hour to seat the entire panel. Noose recessed for fifteen minutes to allow Jean time to type a numerical list of names. Jake and Ellen used the break to review their notes and place the names with the faces. Harry Rex had sat at the counter behind the red docket books and feverishly taken notes while Noose called the names. He huddled with Jake and agreed things were not going well.

At eleven, Noose reassumed the bench, and the courtroom was silenced. Someone suggested he should use the mike, and he placed it within inches of his nose. He spoke loudly, and his fragile, obnoxious voice rattled violently around the courtroom as he asked a lengthy series of statu-torily required questions. He introduced Carl Lee and asked if any juror was kin to him or knew him. They all knew of him, and Noose assumed that, but only two of the panel admitted knowing him prior to May. Noose introduced the lawyers, then explained briefly the nature of the charges. Not a single juror confessed to being ignorant of the Hailey case.

Noose rambled on and on, and mercifully finished at twelve-thirty. He recessed until two.

Dell delivered hot sandwiches and iced tea to the conference room. Jake hugged and thanked her, and told her to send him the bill. He ignored his food, and laid the notecards on the table in the order the jurors had been seated. Harry Rex attacked a roast beef and cheddar sandwich. " We got a terrible draw, " he kept repeating with both cheeks stretched to the limit. " We got a terrible draw. "

When the ninety-fourth card was in place, Jake stood back and studied them. Ellen stood beside him and nibbled on a french fry. She studied the cards.

" We got a terrible draw, " Harry Rex said, washing it all down with a pint of tea.

" Would you shut up, " Jake snapped.

" Of the first fifty, we have eight black men, three black women, and thirty white women. That leaves nine white men, and most are unattractive. Looks like a white female jury, " Ellen said.

" White females, white females, " Harry Rex said. " The worst possible jurors in the world. White females! "

Ellen stared at him. " I think fat white men are the worst jurors. "

" Don't get me wrong, Row Ark, I love white females. I've married four of them, remember. I just hate white female jurors. "

" I wouldn't vote to convict him. "

" Row Ark, you're an ACLU communist. You wouldn't vote to convict anybody of anything. In your little demented mind you think child pornographers and PLO terrorists are really swell people who've been abused by the system and should be given a break. "

" And in your rational, civilized, and compassionate mind, what do you think we should do with them? "

" Hang them by their toes, castrate them, and let them bleed to death, without a trial. "

" And the way you understand the law, that would be constitutional? "

" Maybe not, but it'd stop a lot of child pornography and terrorism. Jake, are you gonna eat this sandwich? "

" No. "

Harry Rex unwrapped a ham and cheese. " Stay away from number one, Carlene Malone. She's one of those Malones from Lake Village. White trash and mean as hell. "

" I'd like to stay away from this entire panel, " Jake said, still staring at the table.

" We got a terrible draw. "

" Whatta you think, Row Ark? " Jake asked.

Harry Rex swallowed quickly. " I think we oughtta plead

him guilty and get the hell outta there. Run like a scalded dog. "

Ellen stared at the cards. " It could be worse. "

Harry Rex forced a loud laugh. " Worse! The only way it could be worse would be if the first thirty were sitting there wearing white robes with pointed hats and little masks. "

" Harry Rex, would you shut up, " Jake said.

" Just trying to help. Do you want your french fries? "

" No. Why don't you put all of them in your mouth and chew on them for a long time? "

" I think you're wrong about some of these women, " Ellen said. " I'm inclined to agree with Lucien. Women, as a very general rule, will have more sympathy. We're the ones who get raped, remember? "

" I have no response to that, " Harry Rex said.

" Thanks, " replied Jake. " Which one of these girls is your former client who'll supposedly do anything for you if you'll simply wink at her? "

Ellen snickered. " Must be number twenty-nine. She's five feet tall and weighs four hundred pounds. "

Harry Rex wiped his mouth with a sheet of paper. " Very funny. Number seventy-four. She's too far back. Forget her. "

Noose rapped his gavel at two and the courtroom came to order.

" The State may examine the panel, " he said.

The magnificent district attorney rose slowly and walked importantly to the bar, where he stood and gazed pensively at the spectators and jurors. He realized the artists were sketching him, and he seemed to pose for just a moment. He smiled sincerely at the jurors, then introduced himself. He explained that he was the people's lawyer; his client, the State of Mississippi. He had served as their prosecutor for nine years now, and it was an honor for which he would always be grateful to the fine folks of Ford County. He pointed at them and told them that they, the very ones sitting there, were the folks who had elected him to represent them. He thanked them, and hoped he did not let them down.

Yes, he was nervous and frightened. He had prosecuted

thousands of criminals, but he was always scared with each trial. Yes! He was scared, and not ashamed to admit it. Scared because of the awesome responsibility the people had bestowed upon him as the man responsible for sending criminals to jail and protecting the people. Scared because he might fail to adequately represent his client, the people of this great state.

Jake had heard all this crap many times before. He had it memorized. Buckley the good guy, the state's lawyer, united with the people to seek justice, to save society. He was a smooth, gifted orator who one moment could chat softly with a jury, much like a grandfather giving advice to his grandchildren. The next moment he would launch into a tirade and deliver a sermon that any black preacher would envy. A split second later, in a fluid burst of eloquence, he could convince a jury that the stability of our society, yes, even the future of the human race, depended upon a guilty verdict. He was at his best in big trials, and this was his biggest. He spoke without notes, and held the courtroom captivated as he portrayed himself as the underdog, the friend and partner of the jury, who, together with him, would find the truth, and punish this man for his monstrous deed.

After ten minutes, Jake had enough. He stood with a frustrated look. " Your Honor, I object to this. Mr. Buckley is not selecting a jury. I'm not sure what he's doing, but he's not interrogating the panel. "

" Sustained! " Noose yelled into the mike. " If you don't have any questions for the panel, Mr. Buckley, then please sit down. "

" I apologize, Your Honor, " Buckley said awkwardly, pretending to be hurt. Jake had drawn first blood.

Buckley picked up a legal pad and launched into a list of a thousand questions. He asked if anyone on the panel had ever served on a jury before. Several hands went up. Civil or criminal? Did you vote to acquit or convict? How long ago? Was the defendant black or white? Victim, black or white? Had anyone been the victim of a violent crime? Two hands. When? Where? Was the assailant caught? Convicted? Black or white? Jake, Harry Rex, and Ellen took pages of notes. Any member of your family been the victim

of a violent crime? Several more hands. When? Where? What happened to the criminal? Any member of your family ever been charged with a crime? Indicted? Put on trial? Convicted? Any friends or family members employed in law enforcement? Who? Where?

For three nonstop hours Buckley probed and picked like a surgeon. He was masterful. The preparation was obvious. He asked questions that Jake had not considered. And he asked virtually every question Jake had written in his outline. He delicately pried details of personal feelings and opinions. And when the time was right, he would say something funny so everyone could laugh and relieve the tension. He held the courtroom in his palm, and when Noose stopped him at five o'clock he was in full stride. He would finish in the morning.

His Honor adjourned until nine the next morning. Jake talked to his client for a few moments while the crowd moved toward the rear. Ozzie stood nearby with the handcuffs. When Jake finished, Carl Lee knelt before his family on the front row and hugged them all. He would see them tomorrow, he said. Ozzie led him into the holding room and down the stairs, where a swarm of deputies waited to take him to jail.

For Day TWo the sun rose quickly in the east and in seconds burned the dew off the thick green Bermuda around the Ford County Courthouse. A sticky, invisible fog smoldered from the grass and clung to the heavy boots and bulky pants of the soldiers. The sun baked them as they nonchalantly paced the sidewalks of downtown Clanton. They loitered under shade trees and the canopies of small shops. By the time breakfast was served under the pavilions, the soldiers had stripped to their pale green undershirts and were drenched in sweat.

The black preachers and their followers went directly to their spot and set up camp. They unfolded lawn chairs under oak trees' and placed coolers of ice water on card tables. Blue and white FREE CARL LEE placards were tacked on tomato stakes and stuck in the ground like neat fencerows. Agee had printed some new posters with an enlarged black and white photo of Carl Lee in the center and a red, white, and blue border. They were slick and professional.

The Klansmen went obediently to their section of the front lawn. They brought their own placards-white backgrounds with bold red letters screaming FRY CARL LEE, FRY CARL LEE. They waved them at the blacks across the lawn, and the two groups started shouting. The soldiers formed neat lines along the sidewalk, and stood armed but casual as obscenities and chants flew over their heads. It was 8: 00 A. M. of Day Two.

The reporters were giddy with all the newsworthiness. They rushed to the front lawn when the yelling started. Oz-zie and the colonel walked around and around the courthouse, pointing here and there and yelling into their radios.

At nine, Ichabod said good morning to the standing-room-only crowd. Buckley stood slowly and with great animation informed His Honor that he had no further questions for the panel.

Lawyer Brigance rose from his seat with rubber knees

and turbulence in his stomach. He walked to the railing and gazed into the anxious eyes of ninety-four prospective jurors.

The crowd listened intently to this young, cocky mouthpiece who had once boasted of never having lost a murder case. He appeared relaxed and confident. His voice was loud, yet warm. His words were educated, yet colloquial. He introduced himself again, and his client, then his client's family, saving the little girl for last. He complimented the D. A. for such an exhaustive interrogation yesterday afternoon, and confessed that most of his questions had already been asked. He glanced at his notes. His first question was a bombshell.

" Ladies and gentlemen, do any of you believe that the insanity defense should not be used under any circumstances? "

They squirmed a little, but no hands. He caught them off-guard, right off the bat. Insanity! Insanity! The seed had been planted.

" If we prove Carl Lee Hailey was legally insane when he shot Billy Ray Cobb and Pete Willard, is there a person on this panel who cannot find him not guilty? "

The question was hard to follow-intentionally so. There were no hands. A few wanted to respond, but they were not certain of the appropriate response.

Jake eyed them carefully, knowing most of them were confused, but also knowing that for this moment every member of the panel was thinking about his client being insane. That's where he would leave them.

" Thank you, " he said with all the charm he had ever mustered in his life. " I have nothing further, Your Honor. "

Buckley looked confused. He stared at the judge, who was equally bewildered.

" Is that all? " Noose asked incredulously. " Is that all, Mr. Brigance? "

" Yes, sir, Your Honor, the panel looks fine to me, " Jake said with an air of trust, as opposed to Buckley, who had grilled them for three hours. The panel was anything but acceptable to Jake, but there was no sense repeating the same questions Buckley had asked.

" Very well. Let me see the attorneys in chambers. "

Buckley, Musgrove, Jake, Ellen, and Mr. Pate followed

icnaDod through the door behind the bench and sat around the desk in chambers. Noose spoke: " I assume, gentlemen, that you want each juror questioned individually on the death penalty. "

" Yes, sir, " said Jake.

" That's correct, Your Honor, " said Buckley.

" Very well. Mr. Bailiff, would you bring in juror number one, Carlene Malone. "

Mr. Pate left, walked to the courtroom and yelled for Carlene Malone. Moments later she followed him into chambers. She was terrified. The attorneys smiled but said nothing: Noose's instructions.

" Please have a seat, " Noose offered as he removed his robe. " This will only take a minute, Mrs. Malone. Do you have any strong feelings one way or the other about the death penalty? " asked Noose.

She shook her head nervously and stared at Ichabod. " Uh, no, sir. "

" You realize that if you're selected for this jury and Mr. Hailey is convicted, you will be called upon to sentence him to death? "