Crowell walked slowly, boldly, arrogantly across the room, and stood at the other end of the tables. He looked down at Ozzie. "You got kids, Sheriff?"
"Yep."
"You got a little girl?"
"Yep."
"Suppose she got raped and you got your hands on the man who did it. What would you do?"
Ozzie paused and looked anxiously at Buckley, whose neck had turned a deep red.
"I don't have to answer that," Ozzie replied.
"Is that so. You came before this grand jury to testify, didn't you? You're a witness, ain't you? Answer the question."
"I don't know what I'd do."
"Come on, Sheriff. Give us a straight answer. Tell the truth. What would you do?"
Ozzie felt embarrassed, confused, and angry at this stranger. He would like to tell the truth, and explain in detail how he would gladly castrate and mutilate and kill any pervert who touched his little girl. But he couldn't. The grand jury might agree and refuse to indict Carl Lee. Not that he wanted him indicted, but he knew the indictment was necessary. He looked sheepishly at Buckley, who was perspiring and seated now.
Crowell zeroed in on the sheriff with the zeal and fervor of a lawyer who had just caught a witness in an obvious lie.
"Come on, Sheriff," he taunted. "We're all listenin'. Tell the truth. What would you do to the rapist? Tell us. Come on."
Buckley was near panic. The biggest case of his wonderful career was about to be lost, not at trial, but in the grand jury room, in the first round, at the hands of an unemployed truck driver. He stood and struggled for words. "The witness does not have to answer."
Crowell turned and shouted at Buckley, "You sit down and shut up! We don't take orders from you. We can indict you if we want to, can't we?"
Buckley sat and looked blankly at Ozzie. Crowell was a ringer. He was too smart to be on a grand jury. Someone must have paid him. He knew too much. Yes, the grand jury could indict anyone.
Crowell retreated and returned to the window. They watched him until it appeared he was finished.
"Are you absolutely sure he done it, Ozzie?" asked Le-moyne Frady, an illegitimate distant cousin to Gwen Hailey.
"Yes, we're sure," Ozzie answered slowly, with both eyes on Crowell. ,
"And you want us to indict him for what?" asked Mr. Frady, the admiration for the sheriff obvious.
"Two counts of capital murder, and one count of assault on a peace officer."
"How much time you talkin' about?" asked Barney Flaggs, another black.
"Capital murder carries the gas chamber. Assault on a deputy carries life with no parole."
"And that's what you want, Ozzie?" asked Flaggs.
"Yeah, Barney, I say this grand jury should indict Mr. Hailey. I sure do."
"Any more questions?" interrupted Buckley.
"Not so fast," replied Crowell as he turned from the window. "I think you're tryin' to ram this case down our throats, Mr. Buckley, and I resent it. I wanna talk about it some. You sit down and if we need you, we'll ask you."
Buckley glared fiercely and pointed his finger. "I don't have to sit, and I don't have to stay quiet!" he yelled.
"Yes. Yes, you do," Crowell answered coolly with a caustic grin. "Because if you don't, we can make you leave, can't we, Mr. Buckley? We can ask you to leave this room, and if you refuse, we'll go ask the judge. He'll make you leave, won't he, Mr. Buckley?"
Rufus stood motionless, speechless, and stunned. His stomach turned flips and his knees were spongy, but he was frozen in place.
"So, if you would like to hear the rest of our deliberations, sit down and shut up."
Buckley sat next to the bailiff, who was now awake.
"Thank you," said Crowell. "I wanna ask you folks a question. How many of you would do or wanna do what Mr. Hailey did if someone raped your daughter, or maybe your
wife, or what about your motner now many: i cut hands."
Seven or eight hands shot up, and Buckley dropped his head. Crowell smiled and continued, "I admire him for what he did. It took guts. I'd hope I'd have the courage to do what he did, 'cause Lord knows I'd want to. Sometimes a man's just gotta do what he's gotta do. This man deserves a trophy, not an indictment."
Crowell walked slowly around the tables, enjoying the attention. "Before you vote, I want you to do one thing. I want you to think about