A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,122

to keep the client off death row. Jake liked him immediately. He was jovial, even comical, laid-back, and his accent was a thing of beauty. Jake marveled at the fact that somehow, while picking up four college degrees and spending a long career in academia, the Texas drawl had not been flattened out.

With Portia tagging along, they went to the jail and met Drew in what was now his classroom. After thirty minutes of small talk, Jake, Portia, and Libby left the room and Dr. Sedgwick set about his work.

At 2:00 p.m., they walked across the street and entered the main courtroom. Lowell Dyer and his assistant were already there with papers strewn over the State’s table. Jake introduced Libby to the other lawyers. Dyer was cordial, though he had resisted Jake’s petition to allow Libby to assist him at trial. It had been a silly objection, in Jake’s opinion, because Judge Noose, along with every other trial judge in the state, permitted out-of-state counsel on a onetime basis when properly associated with a local lawyer.

As they chatted, Jake checked out the courtroom and was surprised at the number of spectators. One group, sitting behind the prosecution, was the Kofer clan and a number of friends. Jake recognized Earl Kofer from a newspaper photo Dumas Lee had run not long after the murder. Next to him was a lady who looked as though she had been crying for a year. No doubt it was the mother, Janet Kofer.

Earl glared at him with pure hatred, and Jake pretended not to notice them. But he glanced again, and again, because he wanted to register the faces of the Kofer boys and cousins.

Judge Noose took the bench at 2:30 and motioned for everyone to keep their seats. He cleared his throat, pulled his mike closer, and announced, “We are here to discuss several motions, but first a pleasant matter. Mr. Brigance, I believe you have an introduction.”

Jake stood and said, “Yes, Your Honor, Ms. Libby Provine of the Kids Advocacy Foundation will be joining the defense efforts. She is licensed to D.C., Virginia, and Maryland.”

Libby stood with a smile and nodded at His Honor, who said, “Welcome to the fray, Ms. Provine. I’ve reviewed your application and résumé, and I’m satisfied that you are more than qualified to sit in the second chair.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” She sat down, and Noose picked up some papers. “Let’s get right into the defense’s motion for a change of venue. Mr. Brigance.”

Jake moved to the podium and addressed the judge. “Yes, Your Honor, in our motion I included affidavits from several people, all of the opinion that it will be difficult if not impossible to find twelve people in this county who are impartial. Four are local lawyers, all well known to the court. One is the former mayor of the town of Karaway. One is the minister of the Methodist church here in town. One is a retired school superintendent down in Lake Village. One is a farmer in the Box Hill community. The other is a community organizer.”

“I’ve read the affidavits,” Noose said, rather curtly.

Of the non-lawyers, all were former clients Jake had leaned on heavily, and all agreed to the affidavits with the stipulation that they would not have to appear in court. Many of the people Jake had approached had flatly refused to get involved, and he couldn’t blame them. There was a great reluctance to do anything that might be perceived as helping the defense.

The affidavits all read the same: The witnesses had lived in the county a long time, knew a lot of people, knew a lot about the case, had discussed it with family and friends, most of whom had already formed opinions, and doubted that a fair, impartial, and uninformed jury could be found in Ford County.

“Do you plan to call these people to the stand today?” Noose asked.

“No sir. Their affidavits are straightforward and state everything they might say in court.”

“I’ve also read your rather lengthy brief. Anything to add to it?”

“No sir. It’s all there.”

Noose, like Judge Atlee, detested wasting time with lawyers who felt the need to repeat during arguments everything they had submitted in writing. Jake knew better than to cover the same territory. The brief was a thirty-page masterpiece Portia had worked on for weeks. In it, she traced the history of venue changes not only in Mississippi but also in more progressive states. Moving a case rarely happened, and she