A time to kill

At six-seven in Wilmington-Jake called Carla. She was awake, reading the paper, drinking coffee. He told her about Bud Twitty, and Mickey Mouse', and the promise of more violence. No, he wasn't afraid of that. It did not bother him. He was afraid of the jury, of the twelve who would be chosen, and their reaction to him and his client. His only fear, at the moment, was of what the jury might do to his client. Everything else was irrelevant. For the first time, she did not mention coming home. He promised to call that night.

When he hung up, he heard a commotion downstairs. Ellen had arrived, and Harry Rex was talking loudly. She's wearing a see-through blouse with a miniskirt, thought Jake as he walked downstairs. She was not. Harry Rex was congratulating her on dressing like a Southern woman with all the accessories. She was wearing a gray glen plaid suit with a V-necked jacket and short slim skirt. The silk blouse was black, and apparently the necessary garment was underneath. Her hair was pulled back and braided in some fashion. Incredibly, traces of mascara, eyeliner, and lipstick were visible. In the words of Harry Rex, she looked as much like a lawyer as a woman could look.

"Thanks, Harry Rex," she said. "I wish I had your taste in clothes."

"You look nice, Row Ark," Jake said.

"So do you," she said. She looked at Harry Rex, but said nothing.

"Please forgive us, Row Ark," Harry Rex said. "We're impressed because we had no idea you owned so many types of garments. We apologize for admiring you and we know how much this infuriates your little liberated heart. Yes, we're sexist pigs, but you chose to come to the South. And in the South we, as a rule, drool over well-dressed attractive females, liberated or not."

"What's in the sack?" she said.

"Breakfast."

She tore it open and unwrapped a sausage and biscuit. "No bagels?" she asked.

"What's that?" asked Harry Rex.

"Forget it."

Jake rubbed his hands together and tried to sound enthusiastic. "Well, now that we've gathered here three hours before trial, what would y'all like to do?"

"Let's make some margaritas," said Harry Rex.

"No!" said Jake.

"It'll take the edge off."

"Not me," said Ellen. "This is business."

Harry Rex unwrapped a biscuit, the last of the sack. "What happens first today?"

"After the sun comes up, we start the trial. At nine, Noose will say a few words to the jurors and we start the selection process."

"How long will it take?" asked Ellen.

"Two or three days. In Mississippi, we have the right to interrogate each juror individually in chambers. That takes time."

"Where do I sit and what do I do?"

"She certainly sounds experienced," Harry Rex said to Jake. "Does she know where the courthouse is?"

"You do not sit at counsel table," said Jake. "Just me and Carl Lee."

She wiped her mouth. "I see. Just you and the defen-

dant sitting alone, surrounded by the forces of evil, facing death alone."

"Something like that."

"My father uses that tactic occasionally."

"I'm glad you approve. You'll sit behind me, next to the railing. I'll ask Noose to allow you into chambers for the private discussions."

"What about me?" asked Harry Rex.

"Noose doesn't like you, Harry Rex. He never has. He'd have a stroke if I asked if you could go in chambers. It'd be best if you pretended we'd never met."

"Thanks."

"But we do appreciate your assistance," Ellen said.

"Up yours, Ellie Mae."

"And you can still drink with us," she said.

"And furnish the tequila."

"There will be no more alcohol in this office," Jake said.

"Until the noon recess," said Harry Rex.

"I want you to stand behind the clerk's table, just loiter about like you always do, and take notes on the jury. Try to match them with the notecards. There'll probably be a hundred and twenty."

"Whatever you say."

Daybreak brought the army out in force. The barricades were reinstalled, and on each corner of the square soldiers clustered around the orange and white barrels blocking the street. They were poised and anxious, watching every car intently, waiting for the enemy to attack, wanting some excitement. Things stirred a little when a few of the vultures in their compact wagons and minivans with fancy logos on the doors appeared at seven-thirty. The troops surrounded the vehicles and informed everyone there would be no parking around the courthouse during the trial. The vultures disappeared down the side streets, then moments later reappeared on foot with their bulky cameras and equipment. Some set up camp on the front steps of the courthouse, others by the back door, and another group in the rotunda outside the main door of the courtroom on the second floor.

Murphy, the janitor and only real eyewitness to the killings of Cobb and Willard, informed the press, as best he could, that the courtroom would be opened at eight, and not a minute before. A line formed and soon circled the rotunda.