A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,147

Florida to sell condos. A great career move.

“My life has no purpose, Jake. All I do is putter around here and spend most of my time on the front porch reading and drinking.”

In the twelve years he had known Lucien, Jake had never heard such self-pity. Indeed, Lucien never complained about his own problems. He might rage for hours about injustice and the state bar association and his neighbors and the shortcomings of lawyers and judges, and he would on occasion suffer a bout of nostalgia and wish he could sue people again, but he never let his guard down and revealed his feelings. Jake had always believed Lucien’s inheritance had grounded him well; that he considered himself luckier than most.

“You’re always welcome around the office, Lucien. You’re a great sounding board and I value your insights.” Which was only partially true. Two years earlier when Lucien was making noise about getting reinstated, Jake had been unhappy with that prospect. With time, though, as the studying became too rigorous, Lucien stopped talking about the bar exam and fell into a routine of stopping by for a few hours on most days.

“You don’t need me, Jake. You have a long career ahead of you.”

“Portia has come to respect you, Lucien.” After a rough start, the two had settled into an uneasy truce, but in the past six months had actually enjoyed working together. Already, and without the benefit of law school, she was an excellent researcher, and Lucien was teaching her how to write like a lawyer. He was delighted by her dream of becoming the first black female lawyer in town and he wanted her in his old office.

“Respect might be too strong a word. Plus, she’s leaving in two months.”

“She’ll be back.”

He rattled his ice and took a drink. “You know what I miss the most, Jake? The courtroom. I loved the courtroom, with a jury in the box and a witness on the stand and a good lawyer on the other side and, hopefully, a seasoned judge refereeing a fair fight. I loved the drama of the courtroom. People discuss things in open court they wouldn’t talk about anywhere else. They have to. They don’t always want to, but they have to because they are witnesses. I loved the pressure of swaying a jury, of convincing good skeptical people that you’re on the right side of the law and they should follow you. You know who they’ll follow, Jake?”

At that moment, Jake couldn’t count the number of times he’d heard this little lecture. He nodded and listened as if for the first time.

“Jurors will not follow a fancy Dan in a designer suit. They will not follow a silver-tongued orator. They will not follow a smart boy with all the rules memorized at his fingertips. No sir. They will follow the lawyer who tells them the truth.”

Word for word, same as always.

“So, what’s the truth with Drew Gamble?” Jake asked.

“Same as Carl Lee Hailey. Some people need killing.”

“That’s not what I told the jury.”

“No, not in those words. But you convinced them that Hailey did exactly what they would do if given the chance. It was brilliant.”

“I’m not feeling so brilliant these days. I have no choice but to put a dead man on trial, a guy who can’t defend himself. It will be an ugly trial, Lucien, but I see no way around it.”

“There is no way around it. I want to be in that courtroom when that girl takes the stand. Almost eight months pregnant and Kofer is the father. Talk about drama, Jake. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“I expect Dyer will howl for a mistrial.”

“I’m sure he will.”

“What will Noose do?”

“He won’t be happy, but it’s rare for the State to get a mistrial. I doubt if he’ll do it. She’s not your client and if Dyer calls her first then the mistake will be his, not yours.”

Jake took a sip of cold coffee and watched the traffic. “Carla wants to adopt the baby, Lucien.”

He rattled his ice and thought about it. “And you want this too?”

“I don’t know. She’s convinced it’s the right thing to do, but she worries that it will appear to be, what’s the right word, opportunistic?”

“Somebody will get the kid, right?”

“Yes. Kiera and Josie are going the adoption route.”

“And you’re worried about how this will look.”

“I am.”

“That’s your problem, Jake. You worry too much about this town and all the gossipmongers. To hell with them. Where are they