together on tough issues. Politics, whiskey, school boards. You can always count on those two clans to march to the same drum.”
“I know that. But I’m a Methodist too.”
“Right, and you have some supporters, old friends and such. But most people view you as a cold-blooded murderer. I’m not sure you realize that. The people in this county think of Pete Banning as a war hero who, for reasons known only to himself, walked into the church and murdered an unarmed preacher.”
Russell added for emphasis, “Pete, you don’t have a dog’s chance in hell.”
Pete shrugged as if that was okay with him. He did what he had to do; damn the consequences. He took a long drag as smoke swirled around the room. “What makes you think things will be different in another county?”
John asked, “Do you know the preachers at the Methodist churches in Polk, Tyler, or Milburn Counties? Of course not. Those counties are right next door yet we know very few folks who live there. They will know neither you nor Dexter Bell personally.”
Russell said, “We’re trying to avoid the personal relationships, Pete. I’m sure a lot of those folks have read the newspapers, but they’ve never met you or Dexter Bell. Without the personal knowledge, we stand a better chance of getting by the raw feelings and planting doubt.”
“Doubt? Tell me about this doubt,” Pete said, gently surprised.
“We’ll get to that in a minute,” John said. “Do you agree that we need to ask for a change of venue?”
“No. If I have to do it, I want my trial to be right here.”
“Oh, you have to, Pete. The only way to avoid a trial is to plead guilty.”
“Are you asking me to plead guilty?”
“No.”
“Good, because I’m not, and I will not ask for a change of venue. This is my home, always has been, same for my ancestors, and if the people of Ford County want to convict me, then it’ll happen across the street in the courthouse.”
John and Russell looked at each other in frustration. Pete laid the papers on the coffee table without having read the first word. He lit another cigarette, casually crossed his legs as if he had all the time in the world, and looked at John as if to say, “What’s next?”
John took his copy of the brief and dropped it loudly on the coffee table. “Well, there goes a month of fine legal research and writing.”
Pete replied, “And I guess I’m supposed to pay for that. If you’d asked me up front I could’ve saved you all that work. No wonder your fees are so high.”
John seethed as Russell fumed and Pete puffed away. After a pause, Pete continued, “Look, boys, I don’t mind paying legal fees, especially since I’m in a jam like this, but $5,000? I mean, I farm almost a thousand acres that require backbreaking work for eight months by thirty field hands, and if I’m lucky and the weather cooperates and the spot price stays high and the fertilizer works and the boll weevils stay away and enough labor shows up to pick, then every three or four years I get a decent crop and maybe I’ll clear, after all bills, $20,000. Half goes to Florry. That leaves me with ten and you want half of that.”
“Your numbers are low,” John said without hesitation. His family raised more cotton than the Bannings. “Our cousin had a very good crop and so did you.”
Russell said, “If you object to our fees, Pete, you can always hire someone else. There are other lawyers in town. We’re just doing our best to protect you.”
“Come on, boys,” Pete said. “You’ve always taken care of me and my family. I have no gripe with what you want, but it may take some time to round up the money.”
Both John and Russell strongly suspected that Pete could write the check with ease, but he was, after all, a farmer, and as a breed they enjoyed squeezing a nickel. And the lawyers were sympathetic too, because in all likelihood he would never farm again and would either die soon in the electric chair or much later in some awful prison hospital. His future was worse than bleak, and they couldn’t blame him for trying to save all the money possible.
A secretary tapped on the door and entered with an elegant coffee service. She filled three porcelain cups and offered cream and sugar. Pete deliberately mixed his blend, took a sip,