Джон Гришэм - A Time for Mercy

The preacher was only twenty-six years old and trying his best to lead a country church, one that Ozzie had visited when campaigning but with a different pastor back then. He was a pleasant young man who was obviously overwhelmed by the situation. He had been hired by the Good Shepherd Bible Church only fourteen months earlier, his first assignment since finishing seminary. He took a cup of coffee from Tatum and gave what little history he knew of the Gamble family. Josie and the kids had first shown up about six months back when a church member mentioned to McGarry that they might need some help. He went to their home on a weeknight and was treated rudely by Stuart Kofer. As he left, he invited Josie to their Sunday service. She and the kids had attended a few times, but she let him know that Kofer did not approve of their churchgoing. Without Stu’s knowledge, McGarry had counseled her twice and been stunned by her background. She’d had both kids out of wedlock as a teenager, served time for drug possession, and admitted to a lot of bad behavior, which she promised was all in the past. While she was locked up, her kids had been placed in foster care and an orphanage.

“Can you take the girl somewhere safe?” Ozzie asked.

“Sure. She can live with us for the time being.”

“Your family?”

“Yes. I have a wife and toddler and we’re expecting. We live in the parsonage next to the church. It’s small but we can find room.”

“Okay. You take her home, but she can’t leave the area. Our investigator will want to talk to her.”

“No problem. How much trouble is Drew in?”

“A ton. He won’t be getting out of jail anytime soon, I can promise you that. He’ll remain in the juvenile cell and I’m sure the court will appoint him a lawyer in a day or so. We’re not talkin’ to him until then. The case looks open and shut. He admitted to his sister that he shot Kofer. No other suspects. He’s in a lot of trouble, Reverend, a lot of trouble.”

“Okay, Sheriff. Thanks for your consideration.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“And I’m sorry for your loss. This is hard to believe.”

“It is. Let’s walk over to their cell and get the girl.”

McGarry followed Ozzie and Tatum through the crowded reception room and it grew quiet. The preacher got some stares as if he had already joined the opposing team. He was there to offer support for the killer’s family. In a strange place and even stranger situation, the preacher did not realize the significance of the harsh looks.

The jailer opened the cell door and they stepped inside. Kiera hesitated as if uncertain, then she stood and ran to McGarry. His was the first trusted face she had seen in hours. He squeezed her tight, rubbed her head, whispered that he was there to get her, and that her mother was going to be all right. She clutched him tightly as she sobbed. The embrace dragged on, and Ozzie shot a look at Moss Junior.

Let’s move along now.

In the darkness of the bottom bunk, Drew had all but disappeared under the blanket and had not moved a muscle since they entered. McGarry finally managed to gently push Kiera back a few inches. With his fingers he tried to wipe her tears, but they were rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m taking you to my house,” McGarry repeated, and she tried to smile. He looked at the bottom bunk for a glimpse of Drew but there wasn’t much to see. He looked at Ozzie and asked, “Can I say something to him?”

Ozzie said no with a firm shake of the head. “Let’s get outta here.”

McGarry took Kiera by the arm and led her out of the cell into the hallway. She did not try to speak to Drew, who was left alone in his dark world as the door closed. Ozzie led them through a side door and into the parking lot. As they were getting into McGarry’s car, Deputy Swayze appeared and whispered to Ozzie.

Ozzie listened, nodded, said “Okay.” He walked to McGarry’s window and said, “The hospital just called. Josie Gamble is awake and askin’ about her kids. I’m goin’ over and you’re welcome to come wait.”

—

AS OZZIE ROARED AWAY, again, he told himself that he just might spend the entire day running from one hotspot to another as the awful story unfolded. When he ignored a stop sign, Tatum asked, “You want me to drive?”

“I’m the high sheriff and this is important. Who’ll complain?”

“Not me. Look, when you were back there with the preacher, I got a call from Looney at the scene. Earl Kofer showed up, out of his mind, said he wanted to see his boy. Looney and Pirtle have the place secured but Earl was hell-bent on gettin’ inside. He had a coupla nephews with him, young bucks tryin’ to be tough, and they made a big scene in the front yard. About that time the state investigators showed up with a van from the crime lab, and they were able to convince Earl that the entire house was an active crime scene and it was against the law for him to go inside. So Earl parked his truck in the front yard and just sat there with his two nephews. Looney asked him to leave but he said it was his property. Family property, he called it. I think he’s still there.”

“Okay, in about an hour I’m goin’ to see Earl to meet with the whole family. You want to go?”

“Hell no.”

“Well, you’re goin’ and that’s an order. I need a couple of white boys backin’ me up and I want you and Looney.”

“Those people vote for you?”

“Everybody voted for me, Moss, don’t you know that? When you win a local race, everybody and his grandmother voted for you. I got seventy percent of the vote, so no complaints, but I have yet to meet a single person in Ford County who didn’t vote for me. And they’re proud of it, can’t wait to go vote for me again.”

“I thought it was sixty-eight percent.”

“It would’ve been seventy if your lazy-ass people out in Blackjack had turned out.”

“Lazy? My people vote like hell, Ozzie. They’re tireless, relentless voters. They vote early, often, all day long, late, absentee, with real ballots, stuffed ballots, fake ballots. They vote dead people, crazy people, underage people, convicted felons who have no right to vote. You don’t remember—it was about twenty years ago—but my uncle Felix went to jail for votin’ dead people. Wiped out two cemeteries in one election. Still wasn’t enough, and when his enemy won by six votes he got him indicted.”

“Your uncle went to prison?”

“I didn’t say prison. I said jail. He served about three months, said it wasn’t that bad, came out a hero but never could vote again. So he learned how to stuff ballot boxes. You need my people, Ozzie, we know how to swing elections.”

Ozzie again parked near the ER entrance and they hustled inside. On the third floor, the same two deputies walked him down the hall where the same young doctor was chatting with a nurse. The report was quick. Josie Gamble was conscious, though sedated because of sharp pains in her splintered jaw. Her vitals were normal. She had not been told that Stuart Kofer was dead or that her son Drew was in jail. She was asking about her children and the doctor assured her they were safe.

Ozzie took a deep breath, looked at Tatum who was reading his mind and already shaking his head. Tatum said softly, “All yours, boss.”

Ozzie asked the doctor, “Can she handle the bad news?”

The doctor smiled and shrugged and said, “Now or later. It doesn’t really matter.”

“Let’s go,” Ozzie said.

“I’ll wait here,” Tatum said.

“No you won’t. Follow me.”

—

FIFTEEN MINUTES LATER, Ozzie and Tatum were leaving the hospital when they noticed Pastor McGarry and Kiera sitting in the ER waiting room. Ozzie walked over and quietly explained that he had just spoken with Josie and that she was alert and eager to see Kiera. She was distraught and confused by Kofer’s death and Drew’s arrest and really wanted to see her daughter.