John Grisham - A time to kill

After an hour, the war had been refought and its effects flogged thoroughly. Jake decided to move on.

"Now, Dr. Bass," Jake said, scratching his head. "Other than Vietnam, what other significant events did you note regarding his mental history?"

"None, except the rape of his daughter."

"Did you discuss the rape with Carl Lee?"

"At great length, during each of the three examinations."

"Explain to the jury what the rape did to Carl Lee Hailey."

Bass stroked his chin and looked perplexed. "Quite frankly, Mr. Brigance, it would take a great deal of time to explain what the rape did to Mr, Hailey."

Jake thought a moment, and seemed to thoroughly analyze this last statement. "Well, could you summarize it for the jury?"

Bass nodded gravely. "I'll try."

Lucien grew weary of listening to Bass, and began watching the jury in hopes of eyeing Clyde Sisco, who had also lost interest but appeared to be admiring the boots. Lucien watched intently from the corner of his eye, waiting for Sisco to gaze around the courtroom.

Finally, as Bass rambled on, Sisco left the testimony and looked at Carl Lee, then Buckley, then one of the reporters on the front row. Then his line of vision locked solidly into a wild-eyed, bearded old man who had once handed him eighty thousand cash for performing his civic duty and returning a just verdict. They focused unmistakably on each other, and both managed a slight grin. How much? was the look in Lucien's eyes. Sisco returned to the testimony, but seconds later he was staring at Lucien. How much? Lucien said, his lips actually moving but with no sound.

Sisco looked away and watched Bass, thinking of a fair price. He looked in Lucien's direction, scratched his beard, then suddenly, while staring at Bass, flashed five fingers across his face and coughed. He coughed again and studied the expert.

Five hundred or five thousand? Lucien asked himself. Knowing Sisco, it was five thousand, maybe fifty thousand. It made no difference; Lucien would pay it. He was worth a ton.

By ten-thirty, Noose had cleaned his glasses a hundred times and consumed a dozen cups of coffee. His bladder pressed forward toward the spillway. "Time for the morning recess. We'll adjourn until eleven." He rapped the gavel and disappeared.

"How'm I doing?" Bass asked nervously. He followed Jake and Lucien to the law library on the third floor.

"You're doing fine," Jake said. "Just keep those boots outta sight."

"The boots are critical," Lucien protested."

"I need a drink," Bass said desperately.

"Forget it," Jake said.

"So do I," Lucien added. "Let's run over to your office for a quick one."

"Great idea!" Bass said.

"Forget it," Jake repeated. "You're sober and you're doing great."

"We got thirty minutes," Bass said as he and Lucien were leaving the library and heading for the stairs.

"No! Don't do it, Lucien!" Jake demanded.

"Just one," Lucien replied, pointing a finger at Jake. "Just one."

"You've never had just one."

"Come with us, Jake. It'll settle your nerves."

"Just one," Bass yelled as he disappeared down the steps.

At eleven, Bass sat himself in the witness chair and looked through glazed eyes at the jury. He smiled, and almost giggled. He was aware of the artists on the front row, so he looked as expert as possible. His nerves were indeed settled. "Dr. Bass, are you familiar with the criminal responsibility test relative to the M'Naghten Rule?" Jake asked.

"I certainly am!" Bass replied with a sudden air of superiority.

"Would you explain this rule to the jury?" "Of course. The M'Naghten Rule is the standard for criminal responsibility in Mississippi, as in fifteen other states. It goes back to England, in the year 1843, when a man by the name of Daniel M'Naghten attempted to assassinate the prime minister, Sir Robert Peel. He mistakenly shot and killed the prime minister's secretary, Edward Drummond. During his trial the evidence plainly showed M'Naghten was suffering from what we would call paranoid schizophrenia. The jury returned a verdict of not guilty, by reason of insanity. From this the M'Naghten Rule was established. It is still followed in England and sixteen states." "What does the M'Naghten Rule mean?" "The M'Naghten Rule is fairly simple. Every man is presumed to be sane, and to establish a defense on the

ground of insanity, it must be clearly proven that when the defendant did what he did he was laboring under such a defect of reason, from a mental disease, that he did not know the nature and quality of the act he was doing, or if he did know what he was doing, he did not know it was wrong."

"Could you simplify that?"

"Yes. If a defendant cannot distinguish right from wrong, he is legally insane."

"Define insanity, please."

"It has no significance, medically. It is strictly a legal standard for a person's mental state or condition."

Jake breathed deeply and plowed forward. "Now, Doctor, based upon your examination of the defendant, do you have an opinion as to the mental condition of Carl Lee Hai-ley on May 20 of this year, at the time of the shooting?"

"Yes, I do."

"And what is that opinion?"

"It is my opinion," Bass said slowly, "that the defendant had a total break with reality when his daughter was raped. When he saw her immediately after the rape he didn't recognize her, and when someone told him she'd been gang-raped, and beaten, and almost hanged, something just snapped in Carl Lee's mind. That's a very elementary way of putting it, but that's what happened. Something snapped. He broke with reality.

"They had to be killed. He told me once that when he first saw them in court, he could not understand why the deputies were protecting them. He kept waiting for one of the cops to pull a gun and blow their heads off. A few days went by and nobody killed them, so he figured it. was up to him. I mean, he felt as though someone in the system would execute the two for raping his little girl.

"What I'm saying, Mr. Brigance, is that, mentally, he left us. He was in another world. He was suffering from delusions. He broke."

Bass knew he was sounding good. He was talking to the jury now, not the lawyer.

"The day after the rape he spoke with his daughter in the hospital. She could barely talk, with the broken jaws and all, but she said she saw him in the woods running to save her, and she asked him why he disappeared. Now, can you

imagine what that would do to a father? She later told him she begged for her daddy, and the two men laughed at her and told her she didn't have a daddy."

Jake let those words sink in. He studied Ellen's outline and saw only two more questions.

"Now, Dr. Bass, based upon your observations of Carl Lee Hailey, and your diagnosis of his mental condition at the time of the shooting, do you have an opinion, to a reasonable degree of medical certainty, as to whether Carl Lee Hailey was capable of knowing the difference between right and wrong when he shot these men?"

"I have."

"And what is that opinion?"

"That due to his mental condition, he was totally incapable of distinguishing right from wrong."

"Do you have an opinion, based upon the same factors, as to whether Carl Lee Hailey was able to understand and appreciate the nature and quality of his actions?"

"I do."

"And what is that opinion?"

"In my opinion, as an expert in the field of psychiatry, Mr. Hailey was totally incapable of understanding and appreciating the nature and quality of what he was doing."

"Thank you, Doctor. I tender the witness."

Jake gathered his legal pad and strolled confidently back to his seat. He glanced at Lucien, who was smiling and nodding. He glanced at the jury. They were watching Bass and thinking about his testimony. Wanda Womack, a young woman with a sympathetic glow about her, looked at Jake and smiled ever so slightly. It was the first positive signal he received from the jury since the trial started.