A time to kill

Bodies began falling on the lush, green grass. Ozzie fell first; the victim of a wicked smash to the base of his skull with a wrecking bar. Nesbit, Prather, Hastings, Pirtle, Tatum, and other deputies ran here and there attempting unsuccessfully to separate various combatants before they killed each other. Instead of running for cover, the vultures darted cra-zily through the midst of the smoke and violence valiantly trying to capture yet a better shot of the blood and gore. They were sitting ducks. One cameraman, his right eye buried deep in his camera, caught a jagged piece of brick with his left eye. He and his camera dropped quickly to the sidewalk, where, after a few seconds, another cameraman appeared and filmed his fallen comrade. A fearless, busy female reporter from a Memphis station charged into the melee with her microphone in hand and her cameraman at her heels. She dodged a brick, then maneuvered too close to a large Klansman who was just finishing off a couple of black teenagers, when, with a loud piercing scream, he slapped her pretty head with his nightstick, kicked her as she fell, then brutally attacked her cameraman.

Fresh troops from the Clanton City Police arrived. In the center of the battle, Nesbit, Prather, and Hastings came together, stood with their backs to each other, and began firing their Smith & Wesson .357 magnum service revolvers

into the air. The sound of the gunfire quelled the riot. The warriors froze and searched for the gunfire, then quickly separated and glared at each other. They retreated slowly to their own groups. The officers formed a dividing line between the blacks and the Klansmen, all of whom were thankful for the truce.

A dozen wounded bodies were unable to retreat. Ozzie sat dazed, rubbing his neck. The lady from Memphis was unconscious and bleeding profusely from the head. Several Klansmen, their white robes soiled and bloody, lay sprawled near the sidewalk. The fire continued to burn.

The sirens drew closer and finally the fire trucks and ambulances arrived and drove onto the battlefield. Firemen and medics attended the wounded. None were dead. Stump Sisson was taken away first. Ozzie was half dragged and half carried to a patrol car. More police arrived and broke up the crowd.

Jake, Harry Rex, and Ellen ate a lukewarm pizza and watched intently as the small television in the conference room broadcasted the day's events in Clanton, Mississippi. CBS ran the story halfway through the news. The reporter had apparently escaped the riot unscathed, and he narrated the video with a play by play of the march, the shouting, the firebomb, and the melee. "As of late this afternoon," he reported, "the exact number of casualties is unknown. The most serious injuries are believed to be the extensive burns suffered by a Mr. Sisson, who identified himself as an imperial wizard of the Ku Klux Klan. He is listed in serious condition at the Mid South Burn Hospital in Memphis."

The video showed a closeup of Stump burning while all hell broke loose. He continued: "The trial of Carl Lee Hai-ley is scheduled to start Monday here in Clanton. It is unknown at this time what effect, if any, today's riot will have on this trial. There is some speculation the trial will be postponed and/or moved to another county."

"That's news to me," said Jake.

"You haven't heard anything?" asked Harry Rex.

"Not a word. And I presume I would be notified before CBS."

The reporter disappeared and Dan Rather said he would return in a moment.

"What does this mean?" asked Ellen.

"It means Noose is stupid for not changing venue."

"Be glad he didn't," said Harry Rex. "It'll give you something to argue on appeal."

"Thanks, Harry Rex. I appreciate your confidence in my ability as a trial lawyer."

The phone rang. Harry Rex grabbed it and said hello to Carla. He handed it to Jake. "It's your wife. Can we listen?"

"No! Go get another pizza. Hello dear."

"Jake, are you all right?"

"Of course I'm all right."

"I just saw it on the news. It's awful. Where were you?"

"I was wearing one of those white robes."

"Jake, please. This is not funny."

"I was in Jean Gillespie's office on the second floor. We had wonderful seats. Saw the whole thing. It was very exciting."

"Who are those people?"

"Same ones who burned the cross in our front yard and tried to blow up the house."

"Where are they from?"

"Everywhere. Five are in the hospital and their addresses are scattered all over the state. One is a local boy. How's Hanna?"

"She's fine. She wants to come home. Will the trial be postponed?"

"I doubt it."

"Are you safe?"

"Sure. I've got a full-time bodyguard and I carry a .38 in my briefcase. Don't worry."

"But I'm worried, Jake. I need to be home with you."

"No."

"Hanna can stay here until it's over, but I want to come home."

"No, Carla. I know you're safe out there. You won't be safe if you're here."

"Then you're not safe either."

"I'm as safe as I can get. But I'm not taking chances