God-it's only a preliminary!" Bullard screamed. He finished a half pint of vodka as Mr. Pate handed him another one.
"Take it easy, Judge."
"Brigance. It's all his fault. He could waive this if he wanted to. I asked him to. Asked him twice. He knows I'll send it to the grand jury. He knows that. All lawyers know that. But now I gotta make all the niggers mad because I won't turn him loose, and I'll make all the rednecks mad because I won't execute him today in the courtroom. I'll get Brigance for this. He's playing for the cameras. I have to get reelected, but he doesn't, does he?"
"No, Judge."
"How many officers out there?"
"Plenty. Sheriffs called in the reserves. You're safe."
"How about the press?"
"They're lined up on the front rows."
"No cameras!"
"No cameras."
"Is Hailey here?"
"Yes, sir. He's in the courtroom with Brigance. Ever-body's ready, just waitin' on you."
His Honor filled a Styrofoam cup with straight vodka. "Okay, let's go."
Just like in the old days before the sixties, the courtroom was neatly segregated with the blacks and whites separated by the center aisle. The officers stood solemnly in the aisle and around the walls of the courtroom. Of particular concern was an assemblage of slightly intoxicated whites sitting together in two rows near the front. A couple were recognized as brothers or cousins of the late Billy Ray Cobb.
They were watched closely. The two front rows, the one on the right in front of the blacks and the one on the left in front of the whites, were occupied by two dozen journalists of various sorts. Some took notes while some sketched the defendant, his lawyer, and now finally, the judge.
"They gonna make this nigger a hero," mumbled one of the rednecks, loud enough for the reporters.
When Bullard assumed the bench, the deputies locked the rear door.
"Call your first witness," he ordered in the direction of Rocky Childers.
"The State calls Sheriff Ozzie Walls."
The sheriff was sworn and took the stand. He relaxed and began a long narrative describing the scene of the shooting, the bodies, the wounds, the gun, the fingerprints on the gun and the fingerprints of the defendant. Childers produced an affidavit signed by Officer Looney and witnessed by the sheriff and Moss Junior. It identified the gunman as Carl Lee. Ozzie verified Looney's signature and read the affidavit into the record.
"Sheriff, do you know of any other eyewitness?" asked Childers with no enthusiasm.
"Yes, Murphy, the janitor."
"What's his first name?"
"Nobody knows. He's just Murphy."
"Okay. Have you talked to him?"
"No, but my investigator did."
"Who is your investigator?"
"Officer Rady."
Rady was sworn and seated in the witness chair. Mr. Pate fetched the judge another cup of ice water from chambers. Jake took pages of notes. He would call no witnesses, and he chose not to cross-examine the sheriff. Occasionally, the State's witnesses would get their lies confused in a preliminary, and Jake would ask a few questions on cross-examination to nail down, for the record, the discrepancies. Later at trial when the lying started again, Jake would produce the testimony from the preliminary to further confuse the liars. But not today.
"Sir, have you had an occasion to talk with Murphy?" Childers asked.
"Murphy who?"
"I don't know-just Murphy, the janitor."
"Oh him. Yes, sir."
"Good. What did he say?"
"About what?"
Childers hung his head. Rady was new, and had not testified much. Ozzie thought this would be good practice.
"About the shooting! Tell us what he told you about the shooting."
Jake stood. "Your Honor. I object. I know hearsay is admissible in a preliminary, but this Murphy fella is available. He works here in the courthouse. Why not let him testify?"
"Because he stutters," replied Bullard.
"What!"
"He stutters. And I don't want to hear him stutter for the next thirty minutes. Objection overruled. Continue, Mr. Childers."
Jake sat in disbelief. Bullard snickered at Mr. Pate, who left for more ice water.
"Now, Mr. Rady, what did Murphy tell you about the shooting?"
"Well, he's hard to understand because he was so excited, and when he gets excited he stutters real bad. I mean he stutters anyway, but-"
"Just tell us what he said!" Bullard shouted.
"Okay. He said he saw a male black shoot the two white boys and the deputy."
"Thank you," said Childers. "Now where was he when this took place?"
"Who?"
"Murphy!"
"He was sittin' on the stairs directly opposite the stairs where they got shot."
"And he saw it all?"
"Said he did."
"Has he identified the gunman?"
"Yes, we showed him photos of ten male blacks, and he identified the defendant, sittin' over there."