Джон Гришэм - A Time for Mercy

“Yes.”

“So, we shouldn’t expect the Kluckers and those guys to show up, like Hailey, right?”

“Who knows?” Lucien said. “There are plenty of nuts out there.”

“You got that right. Not yet nine on a Monday morning and two calls already. Two threats.”

“What was the first one?” Lucien asked.

“The father of the deceased, a man named Earl Kofer,” Jake said. “I’ve never met him but it looks like that might change.”

“The father of the deceased called the lawyer of the person arrested for the killing?”

Jake and Portia nodded. Lucien shook his head, then he smiled and said, “I love it. Makes me wish I was back in the trenches.”

The desk phone rang and Jake stared at it. Line three was blinking and that usually meant Carla was calling. He slowly lifted the receiver, said hello, and listened. She was at school, in her classroom, first period. The secretary in the principal’s office down the hall had just answered the phone, and a man who refused to give his name asked if Jake Brigance’s wife worked there. He said he was a good friend of Stuart Kofer, said Kofer had a lot of friends, and that they were upset because Carl Lee Hailey’s lawyer was now trying to get that kid out of jail. Said jail was the only thing keeping the boy alive at the moment. When she asked his name for the second time, he hung up.

The secretary informed the principal, who told Carla, then called the city police.

—

WHEN JAKE WHEELED to a stop in front of the school, he parked behind two patrol cars. An officer named Step Lemon, a former bankruptcy client of Jake’s, was at the front door and greeted Jake like an old friend. Lemon said, “The call came from a pay phone at Parker’s store, down by the lake. That’s as far as we can dig. I’ll get Ozzie to ask around at the store but my guess is it’s a waste of time.”

Jake said, “Thanks,” and they stepped inside where the principal was waiting with Carla, who seemed thoroughly unflustered by the phone call. She and Jake walked away for some privacy. “Hanna’s fine,” Carla whispered. “They checked on her right away and she knows nothing.”

“The asshole called the school where you work,” Jake whispered.

“Watch your language. It’s just some nut, Jake.”

“I know. But nuts can do stupid things. We’ve had two calls at the office already.”

“Do you think it’ll blow over?”

“No. There are too many big events just around the corner. The boy’s first court appearance. Kofer’s funeral. More court appearances, and one day there might be a trial.”

“But you’re just temporary, right?”

“Right. I’ll see Noose tomorrow and tell him what’s going on. He can find another lawyer from outside the county. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Jake. You didn’t have to race over here.”

“Yes I did.”

He walked out of the building with Officer Lemon, shook hands with him and thanked him again, and got in his car. Instinctively, he slid back the lid of his console to make sure his automatic pistol was still there. It was, and he cursed it, and shook his head in frustration as he drove away.

At least a thousand times in the past two years he had vowed to put his firearms away and retrieve them only for hunting. But the gun nuts were loose and more rabid than ever. It was safe to assume that in the rural South every vehicle had a weapon. Old laws had made it necessary to hide them, but newer ones had brought them out into the open. Get a permit these days and you could hang rifles in your rear window and strap a six-shooter on your hip. Jake despised the idea of keeping guns in his car, his desk at work, his nightstand at home, but once they take shots at you, burn your house, and threaten your family, notions of self-preservation become priority one.

8

A Mrs. Whitaker and a Mrs. Huff introduced themselves in the third-floor waiting room and asked if Jake and Portia would like something to eat. The Good Shepherd Bible Church was in the process of laying siege. The coffee tables and counters were covered with food, and more was on the way. Mrs. Huff explained that the ladies of the church were working shifts now, keeping a watchful eye on Josie Gamble down the hall in that room with a bored deputy sitting outside the door in a rocker. As Mrs. Huff talked, Mrs. Whitaker placed two thick slices of triple-fudge cake on paper plates and handed one to Portia and one to Jake. Since it was not physically possible to decline the cake, they took small bites with plastic forks as Mrs. Huff went through the results of Josie’s latest tests, with no respect for privacy.

When Jake was finally allowed to speak and told them that he was the court-appointed lawyer for Drew, the ladies were visibly impressed and offered coffee. Jake introduced Portia as his paralegal, but it wasn’t clear if they knew what that meant. Mrs. Whitaker said her nephew was a lawyer over in Arkansas, and, not to be outdone, Mrs. Huff said her brother had once served on a grand jury.

The cake was delicious and Jake asked for another, smaller slice, and accepted some coffee to wash it down. When he glanced at his watch Mrs. Whitaker informed him that Josie’s door was closed because she was being examined by her doctors. It wouldn’t take long, she assured him, as if she was now well versed on hospital procedures.

Since both ladies seemed hell-bent on talking nonstop, Jake sat down and began asking questions about the Gamble family. Mrs. Whitaker got the jump on her rival and explained that they, mother and children, had been worshipping at Good Shepherd for the past few months. One of the deacons, Mr. Herman Vest they thought it was, had met Josie where she worked at the car wash in Clanton and struck up a conversation, as he was prone to do. Mr. Vest enjoyed meeting new people and inviting them to church. Mr. Vest, if it was indeed him, had passed along her name to their pastor, Brother Charles, and he had followed up with a home visit, one that reportedly did not go well because the man of the house, Officer Stuart Kofer, may he rest in peace, had been quite rude to their pastor.

Additionally, it was obvious that Josie was living with the man without the benefit of holy matrimony, living in open sin, so that gave them all additional ammo for their prayer lists.

Nevertheless, Josie and the kids visited one Sunday morning. The church always took great pride in welcoming visitors. That was one reason its enrollment had almost doubled since Brother Charles had arrived. One big happy family.

Mrs. Huff barged in at this point because she had something special to offer. Kiera at the time was only thirteen years old, fourteen now, and Mrs. Huff taught the young teenage girls in a Sunday school class. Once Mrs. Huff, as well as the rest of the church, came to realize what awful things Josie and the kids had been through, they really took them in. Mrs. Huff had a special interest in Kiera, who at first was extremely shy and introverted. About once a month Mrs. Huff invited the class to her house for pizza, ice cream, and a scary-movie sleepover, and she coaxed Kiera into joining them. The other girls were terrific, some knew her from school, but she had a difficult time relaxing at the little party.

Portia had put down her cake and was taking notes. When Mrs. Huff paused for a breath, Portia pounced with “When you say the family had been through some awful things, what do you mean? If you don’t mind telling us.”

These two women would tell anything. But they did glance at each other as if thinking perhaps they should throttle back. Mrs. Huff said, “Well, when they were younger they were separated. Not sure how or why, but I think Josie, and she is a dear, had to go away, maybe got in some trouble, you know? The kids were sent away. Something like that.”