T. Bunn - The Great Divide

“Then that puts us in about the same fix.” Marcus grinned for the first time since his visit to the hospital. It felt like he was awakening muscles given over to permanent slumber. “I also want you to handle the first few witnesses.”

Charlie’s head bobbed like a bird searching the heavens as he fitted Marcus into focus. “We talking strategy here?”

“Maybe.” Marcus decided he owed the old man a fuller slice of the truth. “A lawyer in Washington thinks he might have something that will turn this case around.”

“So you want me to start off, then if we need to change course it’ll come more natural.” Charlie did not need to ponder long. “I can live with that.”

“Good.”

“ ’course, my experience is, most times these last-minute reprieves hold off like smoke on the horizon.”

“Then we don’t have a case, and it doesn’t matter one way or the other, long as we build up some publicity.” Marcus proceeded to tell him what the opening statement needed to contain. It did not take long.

Judge Nicols broke in. “All right, Mr. Glenwood. Counsel for the plaintiff may proceed.”

“I’ll be taking that role, Your Honor.” Charlie Hayes fumbled slightly as he plucked his cane from the railing. Alarmed that he might have overstrained the old man’s heart, Marcus started to protest that he should do it after all. But Charlie threw him a quick wink, scarcely more than a twitch. Marcus settled back, ready for the show.

Charlie leaned heavily on the cane as he moved in front of the jury box. “My name is Charlie Hayes and I am seventy-seven years old. I had the honor of practicing law in this fine state for nigh on fifty years. A lot of that time was spent sitting right up there where Judge Nicols is now. I retired, oh, it must be going on nine years back.” He paused to adjust his weight on the cane. “I was ready to go. I’d loved serving my state and my country, but the time had come for me to step aside and spend more time with my family. Then the lawyer you see seated over there, Marcus Glenwood is his name, he came by and told me about this situation. And I knew that I had to find it in me to try one more case. And I’ll tell you why. The reason is very simple, ladies and gentlemen of the jury: Never in all my born days have I come up against anything quite so vile and treacherous as what has brought us together here today.”

Logan was on his feet in a flash. “Objection!”

“Overruled. Counsel is granted leeway in opening remarks.”

Charlie had used the interruption to move over and lean on the podium. It was a sturdy walnut stand set now to face the jury box. Charlie took a wheezy breath, then continued. “Now, I could run us through this and that, but I’m old enough to know you’ll be sitting there through it all thinking, This is just lawyer talk. He’s paid to say what he’s saying. Am I right there, folks?”

Marcus watched as a few jurors rewarded him with smiles, even a couple of nods. They were a mixed group about whom he knew almost nothing. The defense had made judicious use of their strikes, holding the number of blacks down to the dentist and two older women. All the six white males, one of whom was jury foreman, bore the mark of hard work and the outdoors-scarcely the type to show sympathy for a black female activist. The three white women had the appearance of senior staffers, severe in bearing and alert. All Marcus knew for certain was that the final seven choices attended church every Sunday. Until Ashley’s call, it had seemed to be enough.

“So I’m not going to hold you here for hours on end, showing off what’s left of my voice,” Charlie went on. “The evidence and the witnesses will speak for themselves.”

Charlie let the podium do for a crutch and pointed toward the defense with his cane. “Right down there is New Horizons Incorporated and their bunch of fancy-suited lawyers. One of the biggest textile companies in the world. Sports, fashion, shoes, the works. Almost two billion dollars in sales. Everybody knows ’em. I imagine some of you have kids wearing their clothes. They’ve got the splashiest ads, the hottest music, the biggest names in sports today. But what those ads don’t tell you is how New Horizons clothes are stained with innocent blood.”

“Objection!”

“Sustained. The jury is instructed to ignore that remark. Mr. Hayes, watch yourself.”

“Yes indeed, Your Honor. Thank you.” Charlie thumped his cane upon the floor. “I said I’d keep this short, and I’m a man of my word. All I need to tell you now is that by the time we’re done here, you’re going to have a very different picture of New Horizons Incorporated. One that leads you not just to believe-no, but to know that they have kidnapped and abused and held against her will a young local woman named Gloria Hall. I do sincerely thank you.”

Charlie limped back to his seat before either the defense or the judge recovered from their surprise.

“That’s it?” Logan Kendall rose to his feet. “That’s all they have?”

Judge Nicols demanded, “Mr. Hayes, are you done?”

“I am indeed, Your Honor.” Charlie fished out a handkerchief and wiped his face. “And may I say, a more attentive jury I’ve never had the pleasure of addressing.”

“Your Honor, this is absurd!” Logan stopped halfway to the bench. “The plaintiff has not connected the company in any way to this woman’s disappearance!”

Judge Nicols lowered her head in a warning glare. “Is that the defense’s opening statement?”

Logan caught himself. “No, Your Honor. Defense waives its opening statement, but reserves the right to claim it later.” He retreated to his table, muttering just loud enough for the jury to hear, “If the trial actually manages to last that long.”

“Very well.” Judge Nicols turned to the jury. “The defense will not address you now, but may do so later on. This will probably take place before they call their own witnesses.”

Logan remained standing. “Your Honor, once again we move to dismiss this case. The plaintiff’s opening statement shows this whole thing to be nothing more than a sham.”

“No, I am going to allow it to continue. For now.” Her gaze was hard and searching. “Mr. Glenwood, Mr. Hayes, you have your work cut out for you.” She banged her gavel. “Court is adjourned until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”

Thursday’s dawn found Marcus already at work. The sunrise was filtered through his two favorite trees, the sycamore tall and looming, the dogwood gnarled and thick-limbed as a Florida oak. Marcus sat at his desk and wrestled with strategy. An hour or so later, Darren slipped a breakfast plate and a fresh cup of coffee in front of him, then left without saying a word.

When Marcus emerged from the house it was to find Amos Culpepper standing with Darren next to an unmarked car. The two were in the process of shaking hands, a sight that warmed Marcus as much as breakfast.

Amos said in greeting, “Looks like we’ve managed to clear up that misunderstanding with the local police.”

Marcus stowed his load of papers in the Jeep. “This is very good news.”

“My visits over at New Horizons haven’t done much but ruffle a few feathers. They claim they don’t have a single Lonnie on staff, and they’ve never heard of anybody fitting the description of your gray attacker. Felt the need to deny that before I even finished my description.” He squinted down the street as he asked, “What’d you think of the New Horizons reception area?”

“Very cold, very New York.”

“Seems kinda strange how they need to have two armed bruisers guarding a textile company’s front office.”

“They’ve got a lot of celebrities coming and going over there.”