"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
with you and Hanna. It's out of the question. That's final. How are your parents?"
"I didn't call to talk about my parents. I called because I'm scared and I want to be with you."
"And I want to be with you, but not now. Please understand."
She hesitated. "Where are you staying?"
"At Lucien's most of the time. Occasionally at home, with my bodyguard in the driveway."
"How's my house?"
"It's still there. Dirty, but still there."
"I miss it."
"Believe me, it misses you."
"I love you, Jake, and I'm scared."
"I love you, and I'm not scared. Just relax and take care of Hanna."
"Goodbye."
"Goodbye."
Jake handed the receiver to Ellen. "Where is she?"
"Wilmington, North Carolina. Her parents spend the summers there."
Harry Rex had left for another pizza.
"You miss her, don't you?" asked Elleri.
"In more ways than you can imagine."
"Oh, I can imagine."
At midnight they were in the cabin drinking whiskey, cussing niggers, and comparing wounds. Several had returned from the hospital in Memphis where they had visited briefly with Stump Sisson. He told them to proceed as planned. Eleven had been released from the Ford County Hospital with various cuts and bruises, and the others admired their wounds as each took his turn describing to the last detail how he had gallantly battled multiple niggers before being wounded, usually from the rear or blind side. They were the heroes, the ones with the bandages. Then the others told their stories and the whiskey flowed. They heaped praise upon the largest one when he told of his attack on the pretty television reporter and her nigger cameraman.
After a couple of hours of drinking and storytelling the
talk turned to the task at hand. A map of the county was produced, and one of the locals pinpointed the targets. There were twenty homes this night-twenty names taken from the list of prospective jurors someone had furnished.
Five teams of four each left the cabin in pickups and headed into the darkness to further their mischief. In each pickup were four wooden crosses, the smaller models, nine feet by four feet, each soaked with kerosene. They avoided Clanton and the small towns in the county and instead kept to the dark countryside. The targets were in isolated areas, away from traffic and neighbors, out in the country where things go unnoticed and people go to bed early and sleep soundly.
The plan of attack was simple: a truck would stop a few hundred feet down the road, out of sight, no headlights, and the driver remained with engine running while the other three carried the cross to the front yard, stuck it in the ground, and threw a torch on it. The pickup then met them in front of the house for a quiet getaway and joyride to the next target.
The plan worked simply and with no complications at nineteen of the twenty targets. But at Luther Pickett's residence a strange noise earlier in the night had aroused Luther, and he sat in the darkness of his front porch waiting for nothing in particular when he saw a strange pickup move suspiciously along the gravel road out beyond his pecan tree. He grabbed his shotgun and listened as the truck turned around and stopped down the road. He heard voices, and then saw three figures carrying a pole or something into his front yard, next to the gravel road. Luther crouched behind a shrub next