John Grisham - A time to kill

Tuesday morning he barged in and growled at Ethel: "Jake in?" He lumbered toward the stairs, glaring at her and daring her to speak. She nodded, knowing better than to ask if he was expected. He had cursed her before. He had cursed everybody before.

The stairway shook as he thundered upward. He was gasping for air as he entered the big office.

"Morning, Harry Rex. You gonna make it?"

"Why don't you get an office downstairs?" he demanded between breaths.

"You need the exercise. If it weren't for those stairs your weight would be over three hundred."

"Thanks. Say, I just came from the courtroom. Noose wants you in chambers at ten-thirty if possible. Wants to talk about Hailey with you and Buckley. Set up arraignment, trial date, all that crap. He asked me to tell you."

"Good. I'll be there."

"I guess you heard about the grand jury?"

"Sure. I've got a copy of the indictment right here."

Harry Rex smiled. "No. No, I mean the vote on the indictment."

Jake froze and looked at him curiously. Harry Rex moved in silent and dark circles like a cloud over the county. He was an endless source of gossip and rumor, and took great pride in spreading only the truth-most of the time. He was the first to know almost everything. The legend of

Harry Rex began twenty years earlier with his first jury trial. The railroad he had sued for millions refused to offer a dime, and after three days of trial the jury retired to deliberate. The railroad lawyers became concerned when the jury failed to return with a quick verdict in their favor. They offered Harry Rex twenty-five thousand to settle when the deliberations went into the second day. With nerves of steel, he told them to go to hell. His client wanted the money. He told his client to go to hell. Hours later a weary and fatigued jury returned with a verdict for one hundred fifty thousand. Harry Rex shot the bird at the railroad lawyers, snubbed his clients and went to the bar at the Best Western. He bought drinks for everyone, and during the course of the long evening explained in detail exactly how he had wired the jury room and knew exactly what the jury was up to. Word spread, and Murphy found a series of wires running through the heating ducts to the jury room. The State Bar Association snooped around, but found nothing. For twenty years the judges had ordered the bailiffs to inspect the jury room when Harry Rex was in any way connected with a case.

"How do you know the vote?" Jake asked, suspicion hanging on every syllable.

"I got sources."

"Okay, what was the vote?"

"Twelve to six. One fewer vote and you wouldn't be holding that indictment."

"Twelve to six," Jake repeated.

"Buckley near 'bout died. A guy named Crowell, white guy, took charge and almost convinced enough of them not to indict your man."

"Do you know Crowell?"

"I handled his divorce two years ago. He lived in Jackson until his first wife was raped by a nigger. She went crazy and they got a divorce. She took a steak knife and sliced her wrists. Then he moved to Clanton and married some sleazebag out in the county. Lasted about a year. He ate Buckley's lunch. Told him to shut up and sit down. I wish I could've seen it."

"Sounds like you did."

"Naw. Just got a good source."

"Who?"

"Jake, come on."

"You been wiring rooms again?"

"Nope. I just listen. That's a good sign, ain't it?"

"What?"

"The close vote. Six outta eighteen voted to let him walk. Five niggers and Crowell. That's a good sign. Just get a couple of niggers on the jury and hang it. Right?"

"It's not that easy. If it's tried in this county there's a good chance we'll have an all-white jury. They're common here, and as you know, they're still very constitutional. Plus this guy Crowell sounds like he came outta nowhere."

"That's what Buckley thought. -You should see that ass. He's in the courtroom strutting around ready to sign autographs over his big TV splash last night. No one wants to talk about it, so he manages to work it into every conversation. He's like a kid begging for attention."

"Be sweet. He may be your next governor."

"Not if he loses Hailey. And he's gonna lose Hailey, Jake. We'll pick us a good jury, twelve good and faithful citizens, then we'll buy them."

"I didn't hear that."

"Works every time."

A few minutes after ten-thirty, Jake entered the judge's chamber behind the courtroom and coolly shook hands with Buckley, Musgrove, and Ichabod. They had been waiting on him. Noose waved him toward a seat and sat behind the desk.

"Jake, this will take just a few minutes." He peered down that nose. "I would like to arraign Carl Lee Hailey in the morning at nine. Any problems with that?"

"No. That'll be fine," replied Jake.

"We'll have some other arraignments in the morning, then we start a burglary case at ten. Right, Rufus?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay. Now let's discuss a trial date for Mr. Hailey. As you know, the next term of court here is in late August- third Monday-and I'm sure the docket will be just as crowded then. Because of the nature of this case and,

frankly, because of the publicity, I think it would be best if we had a trial as soon as practical."

"The sooner the better," inserted Buckley.

"Jake, how long will you need to prepare for trial?"

"Sixty days."

"Sixty days!" Buckley repeated in disbelief. "Why so long?"

Jake ignored him and watched Ichabod adjust his reading glasses and study his calendar. "Would it be safe to anticipate a request for a change of venue?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Won't make any difference," Buckley said. "We'll get a conviction anywhere."

"Save it for the cameras, Rufus," Jake said quietly.

"You shouldn't talk about cameras," Buckley shot back. "You seem to enjoy them yourself."

"Gentlemen, please," Noose said. "What other pretrial motions can we expect from the defense?"

Jake thought for a moment. "There will be others."

"May I inquire about the others?" asked Noose with a hint of irritation.

"Judge, I really don't care to discuss my defense at this time. We just received the indictment and I haven't discussed it with my client. We obviously have some work to do."

"How much time do you need?"

"Sixty days."

"Are you kidding!" Buckley shouted. "Is this a joke? The State could try it tomorrow, Judge. Sixty days is ridiculous."

Jake began to burn but said nothing. Buckley walked to the window and mumbled to himself in disbelief.

Noose studied his calendar. "Why sixty days?"

"It could be a complicated case."

Buckley laughed and continued shaking his head.

"Then we can expect a defense of insanity?" asked the judge.

"Yes, sir. And it will take time to have Mr. Hailey examined by a psychiatrist. Then the State will of course want him examined by its doctors."

"I see."

"And we may have other pretnal matters. 11 s a oig case, and I want to make sure we have time to adequately prepare."

"Mr. Buckley?" said the judge.

"Whatever. It makes no difference to the State. We'll be ready. We could try it tomorrow."

Noose scribbled on his calendar and adjusted his reading glasses, which were perched on the tip of that nose and held in place by a tiny wart located perfectly at the foot of the beak. Due to the size of the nose and the odd shape of the head, specially built reading glasses with extra long stems were required for His Honor, who never used them for reading or any other purpose except in a vain effort to distract from the size and shape of the nose. Jake had always suspected this, but lacked the courage to inform His Honor that the ridiculous, orange-tinted hexagonal glasses diverted attention from everything else directly to the nose.

"How long do you anticipate for trial, Jake?" Noose asked.