A time to kill

"Why are they here?"

"The sheriff and the mayor called the governor, and convinced him the National Guard was needed to preserve peace in Ford County. They told him our hospital is not large enough for this trial."

"Where are they from?"

"Booneville and Columbus. I counted two hundred and twenty around lunch."

"They've been here all day?"

"They woke me at five this morning. I've followed their movements all day. They were pinned down a couple of times, but reinforcements arrived. A few minutes ago they met the enemy when Miss Gatewood and her friends arrived with their candles. She stared them down, so now they're playing cards."

Ellen finished her drink and left for more. Jake picked up the stack of notecards for the hundredth time and flashed them on the table. Name, age, occupation, family, race, education-he had read and repeated the information since early morning. Round Two arrived with haste, and she took the cards.

"Correen Hagan," she said, sipping.

He thought a second. "Age, about fifty-five. Secretary for an insurance agent. Divorced, two grown children. Education, probably high school, no more. Native of Florida, for what that's worth."

"Rating?"

"I think I gave her a six."

"Very good. Millard Sills."

"Owns a pecan orchard near Mays. About seventy years old. His nephew was shot in the head by two blacks during a robbery in Little Rock several years ago. Hates blacks. He will not be on the jury."

"Rating?"

"Zero, I believe."

"Clay Bailey."

"Age, about thirty. Six kids. Devout Pentecostal. Works at the furniture plant west of town."

"You've given him a ten."

"Yeah. I'm sure he's read that part in the Bible about an eye for an eye, etc. Plus, out of six kids, I'd think at least two would be daughters."

"Do you have all of them memorized?"

He nodded and took a drink. "I feel like I've known them for years."

"How many will you recognize?"

"Very few. But I'll know more about them than Buck-ley."

"I'm impressed."

"What! What did you say! I have impressed you with my intellect!"

"Among other things."

"I feel so honored. I've impressed a genius in criminal law. The daughter of Sheldon Roark, whoever he is. A real live summa cum laude. Wait'111 tell Harry Rex."

"Where is that elephant? I miss him. I think he's cute."

"Go call him. Ask him to join us for a patio party as we watch the troops prepare for the Third Battle of Bull Run."

She headed for the phone on Jake's desk. "What about Lucien?"

"No! I'm tired of Lucien."

Harry Rex brought a fifth of tequila he found somewhere deep in his liquor cabinet. He and the law clerk argued violently over the proper ingredients of a good margarita. Jake voted with his clerk.

They sat on the balcony, calling names from index cards, drinking the tangy concoction, yelling at the soldiers, and singing Jimmy Buffet songs. At midnight, Nesbit loaded Ellen in his patrol car and took her to Lucien's. Harry Rex walked home. Jake slept on the couch.

Monday, July 22. Not long after the last margarita Jake bolted from the couch and stared at the clock on his desk. He had slept for three hours. A swarm of wild butterflies fought violently in his stomach. A nervous pain shot through his groin. He had no time for a hangover.

Nesbit slept like an infant behind the wheel. Jake roused him and jumped in the back seat. He waved at the sentries, who watched curiously from across the street. Nesbit drove two blocks to Adams, released his passenger, and waited in the driveway as instructed. He showered and shaved quickly. He chose a charcoal worsted wool suit, a white pinpoint button-down, and a very neutral, noncontro-versial, expressionless burgundy silk tie with a few narrow navy stripes for good measure. The pleated pants hung perfectly from his trim waist. He looked great, much more stylish than the enemy.

Nesbit was asleep again when Jake released the dog and jumped in the back seat.

"Everything okay in there?" Nesbit asked, wiping the saliva from his chin.

"I didn't find any dynamite, if that's what you mean."

Nesbit laughed at this, with the same irritating, laughing response he made to almost everything. They circled the square and Jake got out in front of his office. Thirty minutes after he left, he turned on the front lights and made the coffee.

He took four aspirin and drank a quart of grapefruit juice. His eyes burned and his head ached from abuse and fatigue, and the tiring part had not yet begun. On the conference table he spread out his file on Carl Lee Hailey. It had been organized and indexed by his law clerk, but he wanted to break it down and put it back together. If a document or case can't be found in thirty seconds, it's no good. He smiled at Jier talent for organization. She had files and sub-files on everything, all ten seconds away at a fingertip. In a one-inch, three-ring notebook she had a summary of Dr. Bass's qualifi-