the porch. After dark, she fed them sandwiches and fried potatoes. At ten, Jake excused himself and went to his room. He called Carla and talked for an hour. There was no mention of the house. His stomach cramped when he heard
her voice and realized that one day very soon he would be forced to tell her that the house, her house, no longer existed. He hung up and prayed she didn't read about it in the newspaper.
Clanton returned to normal Monday morning as the barricades were put in place around the square and the ranks of the soldiers swelled to preserve the public peace. They loitered about in loose formation, watching as the Kluxers returned to their appointed ground on one side, and the black protestors on the other. The day of rest brought renewed energy to both groups, and by eight-thirty they were in full chorus. The collapse of Dr. Bass had been big news, and the Kluxers smelled victory. Plus they had scored a direct hit on Adams Street. They appeared to be louder than normal.
At nine, Noose summoned the attorneys to chambers. "Just wanted to make sure you were all alive and well." He grinned at Jake.
"Why don't you kiss my ass, Judge?" Jake said under his breath, but loud enough to be heard. The prosecutors froze. Mr. Pate cleared his throat.
Noose cocked his head sideways as if hard of hearing. "What did you say, Mr. Brigance?"
"I said, 'Why don't we get started, Judge?'"
"Yes, that's what I thought you said. How's your clerk, Ms. Roark?"
"She'll be fine."
"Was it the Klan?"
"Yes, Judge. The same Klan that tried to kill me. Same Klan that lit up the county with crosses and who knows what else for our jury panel. Same Klan that's probably intimidated most of those jurors sitting out there. Yes, sir, it's the same Klan."
Noose ripped off his glasses. "Can you substantiate that?"
"You mean, do I have written, signed, notarized confessions from the Klansmen? No, sir. They're most uncooperative."
"If you can't prove it, Mr. Brigance, then leave it alone."
"Yes, Your Honor."
Jake left chambers and slammed the door. Seconds later Mr. Pate called the place to order and everyone rose. Noose welcomed his jury back and promised the ordeal was almost over. No one smiled at him. It had been a lonely weekend at the Temple Inn.
"Does the State have any rebuttal?" he asked Buckley.
"One witness, Your Honor."
Dr. Rodeheaver was fetched from the witness room. He carefully situated himself in the witness chair and nodded warmly at the jury. He looked like a psychiatrist. Dark suit, no boots.
Buckley assumed the podium and smiled at the jury. "You are Dr. Wilbert Rodeheaver?" he thundered, looking at the jury as if to say, "Now you'll meet a real psychiatrist."
"Yes, sir."
Buckley asked questions, a million questions, about his educational and professional background. Rodeheaver was confident, relaxed, prepared, and accustomed to the witness chair. He talked at great length about his broad educational training, his vast experience as a practicing physician, and more recently, the enormous magnitude of his job as head of staff at the state mental hospital. Buckley asked him if he had written any articles in his field. He said yes, and for thirty minutes they discussed the writings of this very learned man. He had received research grants from the federal government and from various states. He was a member of all the organizations Bass belonged to, and a few more. He had been certified by every association remotely touching the study of the human mind. He was polished, and sober.
Buckley tendered him as an expert, and Jake had no questions.
Buckley continued. "Dr. Rodeheaver, when did you first examine Carl Lee Hailey?"
The expert checked his notes. "June 19."
"Where did the examination take place?"
"In my office at Whitfield."
"How long did you examine him?"
"Couple of hours."
"What was the' purpose of this examination?"
"To try and determine his mental condition at that time and also at the time he killed Mr. Cobb and Mr. Willard."
"Did you obtain his medical history?"
"Most of the information was taken by an associate at the hospital. I reviewed it with Mr. Hailey."
"What did the history reveal?"
"Nothing remarkable. He talked a lot about Vietnam, but nothing remarkable."
"Did he talk freely about Vietnam?"
"Oh yes. He wanted to talk about it. It was almost like he had been told to discuss it as much as possible."
"What else did you discuss at the first examination?"
"We covered a wide variety of topics. His childhood, family, education, various jobs, just about everything."