A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,102

right?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you have been indicted by the grand jury of Ford County for the murder of Officer Stuart Kofer, right?”

In Jake’s biased opinion, Noose was being far too dramatic and playing to the crowd. Hell, the entire first appearance could have been dispensed with a signature.

“Yes sir.”

“And you have a copy of the indictment?”

“Yes sir.”

“And you understand the charges?”

“Yes sir.”

As Noose ruffled some papers, Jake wanted to say something like “Come on, Judge, how can he not understand the charges? He’s been locked up for over a month.” He could almost feel the stares drilling into the back of his nice gray blazer, and he knew that this day, May 8, was the day when he was unofficially crowned the most despised lawyer in town.

His Honor asked, “Do you plead guilty or not guilty?”

“Not guilty.”

“Okay, you will be remanded to the custody of the sheriff’s department and await trial for the murder of Stuart Kofer. Anything else, Mr. Brigance?”

Anything else? Hell, we didn’t need this. “No sir.”

“Take him away.”

Josie was trying to control herself. Jake walked back to the defense table and tossed down a useless legal pad. He glanced at Pastor McGarry, then looked directly at the Kofer gang.

* * *

—

TWO WEEKS EARLIER, Lowell Dyer had informed Jake that he and his investigator would like the opportunity to meet with Josie and Kiera and ask questions. It was quite a professional move because Dyer didn’t need Jake’s permission to talk to anyone except the defendant. Jake represented Drew, not his family, and if anyone working for law enforcement or the prosecution wanted to chat with a potential witness they could certainly do so.

Unlike civil litigation, where all witnesses were made known and their testimonies probed long before trial, in criminal matters neither side was required to reveal much of anything. In a simple divorce case, every dollar was accounted for, in theory. But in a capital murder trial, with a human life on the line, the defense was not entitled to know what the accusing witnesses might say or what opinions the experts might put forth.

Jake agreed to arrange a meeting in his office and invited Ozzie and Detective Rady as well. He wanted a crowded room because he wanted both Josie and Kiera to experience the tension of discussing what had happened before an audience.

Noose adjourned for lunch at 11:30. Jake and Portia walked Josie and Kiera across the street, and were followed by Dyer and his investigator. They reconvened in the main conference room where Bev had laid out coffee and brownies. Jake arranged everyone around the table and sat Josie at one end, alone as if on the witness stand.

Lowell Dyer was warm and pleasant and began by thanking her for her time. He had the full report from Detective Rady and knew a lot of her background. She kept her responses brief.

The day before, Jake had spent two hours coaching her and her daughter at the church. He had even written instructions for them to review, gems such as: “Keep your answers brief. Don’t volunteer anything. If you don’t know, don’t guess. Do not hesitate to ask Mr. Dyer to repeat the question. Say as little as possible about the physical abuse (we’ll save it for trial). And, most important: Always remember that he is the enemy and he is trying to put Drew on death row.”

Josie was tough and had been around the block. She got through the questions without emotion and gave only the barest of details about the beatings.

Kiera was next. For the occasion, and at Jake’s request, she wore jeans and a tight blouse. At fourteen, no one would have suspected that she was four months pregnant. Jake had readily agreed to the meeting because he wanted Lowell Dyer to have the opportunity to evaluate the witness before she began showing. On her list of instructions, Portia had typed in bold letters: “Do not mention your pregnancy. Do not mention the rapes. If asked about physical abuse, start crying and don’t answer. Jake will intervene.”

Her voice broke almost immediately and Dyer didn’t push. She was a frightened, fragile child who was now secretly carrying one of her own and seemed thoroughly overwhelmed.

Jake grimaced, shrugged, said to Dyer, “Maybe another time.”

“Sure.”

24

Jake had been careful not to get himself photographed around the courthouse. Evidently, the editor of the Times went to the archives and selected one of a hundred from the trial of Carl Lee Hailey, five years earlier. He