A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,151

then concerned. There was a general belief that it was related to the Kofer case, and that was confirmed four days after the attack when the rumor surfaced that it was one of Earl’s boys. The following day, the gossip was that Jake was refusing to press charges. Roughly half the crowd admired him for this while the others wanted justice.

His grits and wheat toast arrived and the talk moved to football. The pre-season magazines were out and Ole Miss was ranked higher than expected. This pleased some and upset others, and Jake was relieved that things were returning to normal. The grits slid down with ease, but the toast needed chewing. He did so slowly, careful not to indicate that his jaw still ached and he was avoiding the temporary crowns. A week earlier he’d been dining on fruit shakes through a straw.

Late in the afternoon, Harry Rex called to check on him. He asked, “You see the legals in the Times?”

Every lawyer in town checked the weekly legal notices to see who had been arrested, who had filed for divorce or bankruptcy, which dead person’s estate had been opened for probate, and whose land was being foreclosed. The notices were in the back with the classifieds, all in fine print.

Jake was behind with his reading and said, “No. What’s up?”

“Take a look. They’re probating Kofer’s estate. He died with no will and they need to transfer his land to his heirs.”

“Thanks. I’ll check it out.”

Harry Rex studied the legals with a magnifying glass to keep abreast of the news and gossip. Jake usually just scanned them, but he had not ignored Stuart Kofer’s property. The county assessed the house and ten acres at $115,000, and there were no mortgages or liens. The title was free and clear, and all potential creditors had ninety days from July 2 to file claims against the estate. Kofer had been dead for over three months and Jake wondered what took so long, though such a delay was not unusual. State law provided no deadline to open probate.

He thought of at least two possible lawsuits. One filed on behalf of Josie for her medical bills, now in excess of $20,000—but the debt collectors couldn’t find her. The second could be filed on behalf of Kiera for child support. And he could not forget his own lawsuit against Cecil Kofer for the beating and the bills it created, only half of which were covered by Jake’s no-frills health insurance policy.

But suing the Kofers at this point could be counterproductive. His sympathy for the family had dissipated in the Kroger parking lot, but they had suffered enough. For now. He would wait until after Drew’s trial and reassess the situation. The last thing he needed was more bad press. Lucien be damned.

38

Beginning in early July, as soon as Jake was physically able, Judge Noose began appointing him to indigent criminal cases throughout the Twenty-second district. It was not unusual for a lawyer from one county to handle cases next door, and Jake had done so throughout his career. The local lawyers did not complain because most of them did not want the work to begin with. The pay was not great—$50 an hour—but at least it was guaranteed. And, it was common practice throughout the state to pad the indigent files with a few extra hours to cover time spent driving from one courthouse to another. Noose even bunched Jake’s cases together so that the ninety-minute trip to the town of Temple in Milburn County would be somewhat profitable when four new defendants were hauled into court for their initial appearances. Jake was soon running down to Smithfield in Polk County, and to the crumbling Van Buren County courthouse outside the town of Chester, Noose’s home. He was appointed to every indigent case in Ford County.

He suspected, but of course could never prove, that Chancellor Reuben Atlee had intervened with one of his judges-only chats and whispered to Noose something to the effect of “You stuck him with Gamble, now help him out.”

Two weeks before the Gamble trial, Jake was in Gretna, seat of Tyler County, handling the first appearances of three freshly indicted car thieves, with Lowell Dyer representing the State. After a long morning grinding the wheels of justice, Judge Noose called them both to the bench and said, “Gentlemen, let’s have lunch together in chambers. We have things to discuss.”

Since Dyer’s office was just down the hall, he asked his