John Grisham - A time to kill

Jake shook his head and silently cursed. He cursed Reinfeld more than Agee.

Gwen's eyes flooded and she clenched her fists. "I don't understand all that, and I don't want to understand it. All I know is that I'm tired of beggin' for food, tired of dependin' on others, and tired of worryin' about losin' my house."

Agee looked at her sadly. "I understand, Gwen, but-"

"And if you got six thousand dollars of our money in the bank, you're wrong not to give it to us. We've got enough sense to spend it right."

Carl Lee, Jr., and Jarvis stood next to their mother and comforted her. They stared at Agee.

"But it's for Carl Lee," the reverend said.

"Good," Jake said. "Have you asked Carl Lee how he wants his money spent?"

The dirty little grin left Agee's face and he squirmed in his chair. "Carl Lee understands what we're doin'," he said without much conviction.

"Thank you. That's not what I asked. Listen to me carefully. Have you asked Carl Lee how he wants his money spent?"

"I think it's been discussed with him," Agee lied.

"Let's see," Jake said. He stood and walked to the door leading to the small office next to the conference room. The

reverend watched nervously, almost in panic. Jake opened the door and nodded to someone. Carl Lee and Ozzie casually walked in. The kids yelled and ran to their father. Agee looked devastated.

After a few awkward minutes of hugs and kisses, Jake moved in for the kill. "Now, Reverend, why don't you ask Carl Lee how he wants to spend his six thousand dollars."

"It ain't exactly his," said Agee.

"And it ain't exactly yours," shot Ozzie.

Carl Lee removed Tonya from his knee and walked to the chair where Agee was sitting. He sat on the edge of the table, above the reverend, poised and ready to strike if necessary. "Let me make it real simple, preacher, so you won't have trouble understandin' it. You raised that money in my name, for the benefit of my family. You took it from the black folk of this county, and you took it with the promise that it'd go to help me and my family. You lied. You raised it so you could impress the NAACP, not to help my family. You lied in church, you lied in the newspapers, you lied everwhere."

Agee looked around the room and noticed that everyone, including the kids, was staring at him and nodding slowly.

Carl Lee put his foot in Agee's chair and leaned closer. "If you don't give us that money, I'll tell ever nigger I know that you're a lyin' crook. I'll call ever member of your church, and I'm one too, remember, and tell them we ain't • got a dime from you, and when I get through you won't be able to raise two dollars on Sunday mornin'. You'll lose your fancy Cadillacs and your fancy suits. You may even lose your church, 'cause I'll ask everbody to leave."

"You finished?" Agee asked. "If you are, I just wanna say that I'm hurt. Hurt real bad that you and Gwen feel this way."

"That's the way we feel, and I don't care how hurt you are."

Ozzie stepped forward. "I agree with them, Reverend Agee, you ain't done right, and you know it."

"That hurts, Ozzie, comin' from you. It really hurts."

"Lemme tell you what's gonna hurt a whole lot worse than that. Next Sunday me and Carl Lee will be in your

church. I'll sneak him outta the jail early Sunday and we'll take a little drive. Just about the time you get ready to preach, we'll walk in the front door, down the aisle and up to the pulpit. If you get in my way, I'll put handcuffs on you. Carl Lee will do the preachin'. He'll tell all your people that the money they've given so generously has so far not left your pocket, that Gwen and the kids are about to lose their house 'cause you're tryin' to big-shot with the NAACP. He'll tell them that you lied to them. He may preach for an hour or so. And when he gets through, I'll say a few words. I'll tell them what a lyin', sleazy nigger you are. I'll tell them about the time you bought that stolen Lincoln in Memphis for a hundred dollars and almost got indicted. I'll tell them about the kickbacks from the funeral home. I'll tell them about the DUI charge in Jackson I got dismissed for you two years ago. And, Reverend, I'll tell-"

"Don't say it, Ozzie," Agee begged.

"I'll tell them a dirty little secret that only you and me and a certain woman of ill repute know about."

"When do y'all want the money?"

"How soon can you get it?" Carl Lee demanded.

"Awfully damned quick."

Jake and Ozzie left the Haileys to themselves and went upstairs to the big office, where Ellen was buried in law books. Jake introduced Ozzie to his law clerk, and the three sat around the big desk.

"How are my buddies?" Jake asked.

"The dynamite boys? They're recuperatin' nicely. We'll keep them in the hospital until the trial's over. We fixed a lock on the door, and I keep a deputy in the hall. They ain't goin' anywhere."

"Who's the main man?"

"We still don't know. Fingerprint tests haven't come back yet. There may be no prints to match. He ain't talkin'."

"The other is a local boy, isn't he?" asked Ellen.

"Yeah. Terrell Grist. He wants to sue because he got hurt during the arrest. Can you imagine?"

"I can't believe it's been kept quiet so far," Jake said.

"Me neither. Of course, Grist and Mr. X ain't talkin'. My men are quiet. That leaves you and your clerk here."

"And Lucien, but I didn't tell him."

"Figures."

"When will you process them?"

"After the trial we'll move them to the jail and start the paperwork. It's up to us."

"How's Bud?" Jake asked.

"I stopped by this mornin' to check on the other two, and I went downstairs to see Ethel. He's still critical. No changes."

"Any suspects?"

"Gotta be the Klan. With the white robes and all. It all adds up. First there was the burnin' cross in your yard, then the dynamite, and now Bud. Plus all the death threats. I figure it's them. And we got an informant."

"You what!"

"You heard me. Calls himself Mickey Mouse. He called me at home Sunday and told me that he saved your life. 'That nigger's lawyer' is what he called you. Said the Klan has officially arrived in Ford County. They've set up a klavern, whatever that is."

"Who's in it?"

"He ain't much on details. He promised to call me only if someone is about to get hurt."

"How nice. Can you trust him?"

"He saved your life."

"Good point. Is he a member?"

"Didn't say. They've got a big march planned Thursday."

"The Klan?"

"Yep. NAACP has a rally tomorrow in front of the courthouse. Then they're gonna march for a while. The Klan's supposed to show up for a peaceful march on Thursday."

"How many?"

"The Mouse didn't say. Like I said, he ain't much on details."

"The Klan, marching in Clanton. I can't believe it."

"This is heavy stuff," Ellen said.

"It'll get heavier," Ozzie replied. "I've asked the gover-

nor to keep the highway patrol on standby. It could be a rough week."

"Can you believe Noose is willing to try this case in this town?" asked Jake.

"It's too big to move, Jake. It would draw marches, and protests, and Klansmen anywhere you tried it."

"Maybe you're right. How about your jury list?"

"I'll have it tomorrow."

After supper Tuesday Joe Frank Ferryman sat on his front porch with the evening paper and a fresh chew of Red Man, and spat carefully, neatly through a small hand-carved hole in the porch. This was the evening ritual. Lela would finish the dishes and fix them a tall glass of iced tea, and they would sit on the porch until dark and talk about the crops, the grandchildren, the humidity. They lived out from Karaway on eighty acres of neatly trimmed and cultivated farmland that Joe Frank's father had stolen during the Depression. They were quiet, hardworking Christian folks.