John Grisham - A time to kill

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This addictive tale of a young lawyer defending a black Vietnam war hero who kills the white druggies who raped his child in tiny Clanton, Mississippi, is John Grisham's first novel, and his favorite of his first six. He polished it for three years and every detail shines like pebbles at the bottom of a swift, sunlit stream. Grisham is a born legal storyteller and his dialogue is pitch perfect.

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"Fine, Jake. Tired, but fine. How 'bout you?"

"Great. Listen, have you talked to Carl Lee this week?"

"No. I left Friday, and I've been workin' two shifts since Sunday. I ain't had time for nothin'."

"You seen the newspapers?"

"No. What's happened?"

"You won't believe it, Lester."

"What is it, Jake?"

"Carl Lee fired me and hired a big-shot lawyer from Memphis."

"What! You're kiddin'? When?"

"Last Friday. I guess after you left. He didn't bother to tell me. I read it in the Memphis paper Saturday morning."

"He's crazy. Why'd he do it, Jake? Who'd he hire?"

"You know a guy named Cat Bruster from Memphis?"

"Of course."

"It's his lawyer. Cat's paying for it. He drove down from Memphis last Friday and saw Carl Lee at the jail. Next morning I saw my picture in the paper and read where I've been fired."

"Who's the lawyer?"

"Bo Marsharfsky."

"He any good?"

"He's a crook. He defends all the pimps and drug dealers in Memphis."

"Sounds like a Polack."

"He is. I think he's from Chicago."

"Yeah, bunch of Polacks up here. Does he talk like these?"

"Like he's got a mouthful of hot grease. He'll go over big in Ford County."

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. Carl Lee never was too bright. I always had to think for him. Stupid, stupid."

"Yeah, he's made a mistake, Lester. You know what a murder trial is like because you've been there. You realize how important that jury is when they leave the courtroom and go to the jury room. Your life is in their hands. Twelve local people back there fighting and arguing over your case, your life. The jury's the most important part. That's why you gotta be able to talk to the jury."

"That's right, Jake. You can do it too."

"I'm sure Marsharfsky can do it in Memphis, but not Ford County. Not jn rural Mississippi. These people won't trust him."

"You're right, Jake. I can't believe he did it. He's screwed up again."

"He did it, Lester, and I'm worried about him."

"Have you talked to him?"

"Last Saturday, after I saw the newspaper, I went straight to the jail. I asked him why, and he could not answer. He felt bad about it. I haven't talked to him since then. But neither has Marsharfsky. He hasn't found Clanton yet, and I understand Carl Lee's upset. As far as I can tell, nothing has been done on the case this week."

"Has Ozzie talked to him?"

"Yeah, but you know Ozzie. He's not gonna say too much. He knows Bruster's a crook and Marsharfsky's a crook, but he won't lean on Carl Lee."

"Man oh man. I can't believe it. He's stupid if he thinks those rednecks'll listen to some shyster from Memphis. Hell, Jake, they don't trust the lawyers from Tyler County and it's next door. Man oh man."

Jake smiled at the receiver. So far, nothing unethical.

"What should I do, Jake?"

"I don't know, Lester. He needs some help, and you're the only one he'll listen to. You know how headstrong he is."

"I guess I'd better call him."

No, thought Jake, it would be easier for Carl Lee to say no over the phone. Confrontation was needed between the brothers. A drive from Chicago would make an impact.

"I don't think you'll get very far over the phone. His

mind's made up. Only you can change it, and you can't do it over the phone."

Lester paused a few seconds while Jake waited anxiously. "What's today?",

"Thursday, June 6."

"Let's see," Lester mumbled. "I'm ten hours away. I work the four-to-midnight shift tomorrow and again Sunday. I could leave here midnight tomorrow, and be in Clanton by ten Saturday mornin'. Then I could leave early Sunday mornin' and be back by four. That's a lot of drivin', but I can handle it."

"It's very important, Lester. I think it's worth the trip."

"Where will you be Saturday, Jake?"

"Here at the office."

"Okay. I'll go to the jail, and if I need you I'll call the office."

"Sounds good. One other thing, Lester. Carl Lee told me not to call you. Don't mention it."

"What'll I tell him?"

"Tell him you called Iris, and she gave you the story."

"Iris who?"

"Come on, Lester. It's been common knowledge around here for years. Everybody knows it but her husband, and he'll find out."

"I hope not. We'll have us another murder. You'll have another client."

"Please. I can't keep the ones I've got. Call me Saturday."

He ate from the microwave at ten-thirty. Hanna was asleep. They talked about Leroy Glass and the white kid in the stolen pickup. About Carl Lee, but not about Lester. She felt better, safer now that Carl Lee Hailey was behind them. No more calls. No more burning crosses. No more stares at church. There would be other cases, she promised. He said little; just ate and smiled.

Just before the courthouse closed on Friday, Jake called the clerk to see if a trial was in progress. No, she said, Noose was gone. Buckley, Musgrove, everybody was gone. The courtroom was deserted. Secure with that knowledge, Jake eased across the street, through the rear door of the courthouse, and down the hall to the clerk's office. He flirted with the clerks and secretaries while he located Carl Lee's file. He held his breath as he flipped through the pages. Good! Just as he had hoped. Nothing had been added to the file all week, with the exception of his motion to withdraw as counsel. Marsharfsky and his local counsel had not touched the file. Nothing had been done. He flirted some more and eased back to his office.

Leroy Glass was still in jail. His bond was ten thousand dollars, and his family couldn't raise the thousand-dollar premium to pay a bondsman. So he continued to share the cell with Carl Lee. Jake had a friend who was a bondsman and who took care of Jake's clients. If a client needed out of jail, and there was little danger of him disappearing once he was sprung, the bond would be written. Terms were available for Jake's clients. Say, five percent down and so much a month. If Jake wanted Leroy Glass out of jail, the bond could be written anytime. But Jake needed him in jail.

"Look, Leroy, I'm sorry. I'm working with the bondsman," Jake explained to his client in the Intoxilyzer room.

"But you said I'd be out by now."

"Your folks don't have the money, Leroy. I can't pay it myself. We'll get you out, but it'll take a few days. I want you out so you can go to work, make some money and pay me."

Leroy seemed satisfied. "Okay, Mr. Jake, just do what you can."

"Food's pretty good here, isn't it?" Jake asked with a smile.

"It ain't bad. Better at home."

"We'll get you out," Jake promised.

"How's the nigger I stabbed?"

"Not sure. Ozzie said he's still in the hospital. Moss

Thrum says he's been released. Who knows. I don't think he's hurt too bad."

"Who was the woman?" Jake asked, unable to remember the details.

"Willie's woman."

"Willie who?"

"Willie Hoyt."

Jake thought for a second and tried to recall the indictment. "That's not the man you stabbed."

"Naw, he's Curtis Sprawling."

"You mean, y'all were fighting over another man's woman?"

"That's right."

"Where was Willie?"

"He was fightin' too."

"Who was he fighting?"

"Some other dude."

"You mean the four of you were fighting over Willie's woman?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"What caused the fight?"

"Her husband was outta town."

"She's married?"

"That's right."

"What's her husband's name?"

"Johnny Sands. When he's outta town, there's normally a fight."

"Why is that?"

'"Cause she ain't got no kids, can't have any, and she likes to have company. Know what I mean? When he leaves, everybody knows it. If she shows up at a tonk, look out for a fight."

What a trial, thought Jake. "But I thought you said she showed up with Willie Hoyt?"

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