The phone was dead. Jake stared at the receiver, then placed it on the table. He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed the fog from his eyes, and tried to remember the last time Lucien called his house. It must be important.
He made the coffee, turned out the dog, and walked quickly in his gym shorts and sweatshirt to the edge of the street where the three morning papers had fallen within ten inches of each other. He rolled the rubber bands off onto the kitchen table and spread the papers next to his coffee. Nothing in the Jackson paper. Nothing from Tupelo. The Memphis Post carried a headline of death in the Middle East, and, then, he saw it. On the bottom half of the front page he saw himself, and under his picture was the caption: "Jake Brigance-Out." Next was a picture of Carl Lee, and then a splendid picture of a face he had seen before. Under it, the words: "Bo Marsharfsky-In." The headline announced that the noted Memphis criminal attorney had been hired to represent the "vigilante killer."
aureiy n was a mistake. He had seen Carl Lee only yesterday. He read the story slowly. There were few details, just a history of Mar-sharfsky's greatest verdicts. He promised a news conference in Clanton. He said the case would present new challenges, etc. He had faith in the jurors of Ford County.
Jake slipped silently into starched khakis and a button-down. His wife was still lost somewhere deep in the bed. He would tell her later. He took the paper and drove to the office. The Coffee Shop would not be safe. At Ethel's desk he read the story again and stared at his picture on the front page.
Lucien had a few words of comfort. He knew Marsharf-sky, or "The Shark," as he was known. He was a sleazy crook with polish and finesse. Lucien admired him.
Moss Junior led Carl Lee into Ozzie's office, where Jake waited with a newspaper. The deputy quickly left and closed the door. Carl Lee sat on the small black vinyl couch.
Jake threw the newspaper at him. "Have you seen this?" he demanded.
Carl Lee glared at him and ignored the paper.
"Why, Carl Lee?"
"I don't have to explain, Jake."
"Yes, you do. You didn't have the guts to call me like a man and tell me. You let me read it in the paper. I demand an explanation."
"You wanted too much money, Jake. You're always gripin' over the money. Here I am sittin' in jail and you're bitchin' 'bout somethin' I can't help."
"Money. You can't afford to pay me. How can you afford Marsharfsky?"
"I ain't gotta pay him."
"What!"
"You heard me. I ain't payin' him."
"I guess he works for free."
"Nope. Somebody else is payin'."
"Who!" Jake shouted.
"I ain't tellin'. It ain't none of your business, Jake."
"You've hired the biggest criminal lawyer in Memphis, and someone else is payin' his bill?"
"Yep."
The NAACP, thought Jake. No, they wouldn't hire Marsharfsky. They've got their own lawyers. Besides,xhe was too expensive for them. Who else?
Carl Lee took the newspaper and folded it neatly. He was ashamed, and felt bad, but the decision had been made. He had asked Ozzie to call Jake and convey the news, but the sheriff wanted no part of it. He should have called, but he was not going to apologize. He studied his picture on the front page. He liked the part about the vigilante business.
"And you're not going to tell me who?" Jake said, somewhat quieter.
"Naw, Jake. I ain't tellin'."
"Did you discuss it with Lester?"
The glare returned to his eyes. "Nope. He ain't on trial, and it ain't none of his business."
"Where is he?"
"Chicago. Left yesterday. And don't you go call him. I've made up my mind, Jake."
We'll see, Jake said to himself. Lester would find out shortly.
Jake opened the door. "That's it. I'm fired. Just like that."
Carl Lee stared at his picture and said nothing.
Carla was eating breakfast and waiting. A reporter from Jackson had called looking for Jake, and had told her about Marsharfsky.
There were no words, just motions. He filled a cup with coffee and went to the back porch. He sipped from the steaming cup and surveyed the unkempt hedges that lined the boundary of his long and narrow backyard. A brilliant sun baked the rich green Bermuda and dried the