John Grisham - A time to kill

"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?"

"Yes, sir."

"If the State proves beyond a reasonable doubt that the killings were premeditated, and if you believe Mr. Hailey was not legally insane at the time of the killings, could you consider imposing the death penalty?"

"Certainly. I think it should be used all the time. Might stop some of this meanness. I'm all for it."

Jake continued smiling and nodding politely at juror number one. Buckley smiled too, and winked at Musgrove.

"Thank you, Mrs. Malone. You may return to your seat in the courtroom," Noose said.

"Bring in number two," Noose ordered Mr. Pate. Mar-cia Dickens, an elderly white woman with a hard frown, was led to chambers. Yes, sir, she said, she was very much in favor of the death penalty. Would have no problems voting for it. Jake sat there and smiled. Buckley winked again. Noose thanked her and called for number three.

Three and four were equally unforgiving, ready to kill if the proof was there. Then number five, Gerald Ault, Jake's secret weapon, was seated in chambers.

"Thank you Mr. Ault, this will only take a minute, Noose repeated. "First of all, do you have strong feelings for or against the death penalty?"

"Oh, yes, sir." Ault answered eagerly, his voice and face radiating compassion. "I'm very much against it. It's cruel and unusual. I'm ashamed I live in a society which permits the legal killing of a human being."

"I see. Could you, under any circumstances, if you were a juror, vote to impose the death penalty?"

"Oh, no, sir. Under no circumstances. Regardless of the crime. No, sir."

Buckley cleared his throat and somberly announced, "Your Honor, the State would challenge Mr. Ault for cause and move to excuse him under the authority of State vs. Witherspoon."

"Motion sustained. Mr. Ault, you are excused from jury duty," Noose said. "You may leave the courtroom if you wish. If you choose to remain in the courtroom, I ask that you not sit with the other jurors."

Ault was puzzled and looked helplessly at his friend Jake, who at the moment was staring at the floor with a tight mouth.

"May I ask why?" Gerald asked.

Noose removed his glasses and became the professor. "Under the law, Mr. Ault, the court is required to excuse any potential juror who admits he or she cannot consider, and the key word is consider, the death penalty. You see, whether you like it or not, the death penalty is a legal method of punishment in Mississippi and in most states. Therefore, it is unfair to select jurors who cannot follow the law."

The curiosity of the crowd was piqued when Gerald Ault emerged from behind the bench, walked through the small gate in the railing, and left the courtroom. The bailiff fetched number six, Alex Summers, and led him to chambers. He returned moments later and took his seat on the first row. He lied about the death penalty. He opposed it as did most blacks, but he told Noose he had no objections to it. No problem. Later during a recess, he quietly met with other black jurors and explained how the questions in chambers should be answered.

The slow process continued until mid-afternoon, when the last juror left chambers. Eleven had been excused due to reservations about capital punishment. Noose recessed at three-thirty and gave the lawyers until four to review their notes.

In the library on the third floor, Jake and his team stared at the jury lists and notecards. It was time to decide. He had dreamed about names written in blue and red and black with numbers beside them. He had watched them in the courtroom for two full days now. He knew them. Ellen wanted women. Harry Rex wanted men.

Noose stared at his master list, with the jurors renumbered to reflect the dismissals for cause, and looked at his lawyers. "Gentlemen, are you ready? Good. As you know this is a capital case, so each of you have twelve peremptory challenges. Mr. Buckley, you are required to submit a list of twelve jurors to the defense. Please start with juror number one and refer to each juror only by number."

"Yes sir. Your Honor, the State will accept jurors number one, two, three, four, use our first challenge on number five, accept numbers six, seven, eight, nine, use our second challenge on number ten, accept numbers eleven, twelve, thirteen, use our third challenge on number fourteen, and accept number fifteen. That's twelve, I believe."

Jake and Ellen circled and made notes on their lists. Noose methodically recounted. "Yes, that's twelve. Mr. Bri-gance."

Buckley submitted twelve white females. Two blacks and a white male had been stricken.

Jake studied his list and scratched names. "The defense will strike jurors number one, two, three, accept four, six, and seven, strike eight, nine, eleven, twelve, accept thirteen, strike fifteen. I believe that's eight of our challenges."

His Honor drew lines and check marks down his list, calculating slowly as he went. "Both of you have accepted jurors number four, six, seven, and thirteen. Mr. Buckley, it's back to you. Give us eight more jurors."

"The State will accept sixteen, use our fourth challenge on seventeen, accept eighteen, nineteen, twenty, strike twenty-one, accept twenty-two, strike twenty-three, accept twenty-four, strike twenty-five and twenty-six, and accept

twenty-seven and twenty-eight. That's twelve with four challenges remaining."

Jake was flabbergasted. Buckley had again stricken all the blacks and all the men. He was reading Jake's mind.

"Mr. Brigance, it's back to you."

"May we have a moment to confer, Your Honor?"

"Five minutes," Noose replied.

Jake and his clerk stepped next door to the coffee room, where Harry Rex was waiting. "Look at this," Jake said as he laid the list on a table and the three huddled around it. "We're down to twenty-nine. I've got four challenges left and so does Buckley. He's struck every black and every male. It's an all-white female jury right now. The next two are white females, thirty-one is Clyde Sisco, and thirty-two is Barry Acker."

"Then four of the next six are black," Ellen said.

"Yeah, but Buckley won't take it that far. In fact, I'm surprised he's let us get this close to the fourth row."

"I know you want Acker. What about Sisco?" asked Harry Rex.

"I'm afraid of him. Lucien said he's a crook who could be bought."

"Great! Let's get him, then go buy him."

"Very funny. How do you know Buckley hasn't already bought him?"

"I'd take him."

Jake studied the list, counting and recounting. Ellen wanted to strike both men-Acker and Sisco.

They returned to chambers and sat down. The court reporter was ready. "Your Honor, we will strike number twenty-two and number twenty-eight, with two challenges remaining."

"Back to you, Mr. Buckley. Twenty-nine and thirty."