A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,163

at home. Nice blazer and one of the few neckties in the pool. First Baptist Church of Chester. Jake wanted him.

As he sat at the far end of the front row, Noose called the name of Reba Dulaney. White female, age fifty-five, a housewife who lived in town and played the organ at the Methodist church. She took a seat next to Mark Maylor.

Number three was Don Coben, a sixty-year-old farmer whose son was a policeman in Tupelo. Jake would challenge him for cause, and if that didn’t work he would burn a peremptory challenge to get rid of him.

Number four was May Taggart, the first black chosen. She was forty-four and worked at the Ford dealership. It was the collective wisdom of the defense team, including Harry Rex and Lucien, that blacks were preferred because they were more likely to have less sympathy for white officers. Dyer, though, would be able to challenge them without the usual racial issues because both the defendant and the victim were white.

After an hour on his feet, His Honor was feeling some strain in his lower back. When the first row was seated, he retired to the bench, to his comfortable chair with thick cushions.

Jake studied the first ten. Two he would definitely take, three he would not. The others would be argued over later. Noose reached into his box and pulled out the first name for the second row.

* * *

—

CARLA ENTERED THE courthouse at ten and found the lobby filled with men in uniform. She said hello to Moss Junior and Mike Nesbit, and she recognized a few of the others. Jake had subpoenaed Ozzie’s entire force.

She eased away from them and walked to a first-floor annex where the county tax assessor had her office. Inside, sitting in plastic chairs and appearing to be completely overwhelmed, were Josie and Kiera. They were delighted to see a friendly face and quick to hug her. They followed her out of the building and to her car. Once inside, she asked, “Have you talked to Jake this morning?”

No, they had not. “Haven’t talked to anyone,” Josie said. “What’s going on?”

“Just jury selection. Probably last all day. How about some coffee?”

“Can we leave?”

“Sure. Jake said it’s okay. Have you seen Mr. Dyer or anyone working for him?”

Josie shook her head. They drove away and minutes later stopped on Main Street in Chester. “Have you had breakfast?” Carla asked.

“I’m starving,” Kiera blurted. “I’m sorry.”

“Jake says this is the only café in town. Let’s go.”

On the sidewalk, Carla got her first good look at Kiera. She was wearing a simple cotton summer dress that was tight around the middle and clearly revealed her pregnancy. But it was concealed somewhat by a light, fluffy, oversized vest that, when pulled together, would probably hide things. Carla doubted Jake had selected the garment, but she had no doubt that he had discussed the outfit with Josie.

* * *

—

THE CRACK OF NOON was heard louder in a courtroom than perhaps anywhere else. After three hours of tension, everyone was watching the clock and in need of a break. Hunger pains were overwhelming, and few judges ventured long into the afternoon. Noose had seated the seventy-nine in the first eight rows, and he had listened to three of them plead for relief. One was a grandmother who kept her daughter’s children every day. One was a woman who was sixty-two but looked twenty years older and was her dying husband’s full-time caregiver. One was a gentleman in a coat and tie who claimed he might lose his job. Noose listened thoughtfully but seemed unmoved. He said he would consider their requests during lunch. He learned years ago not to grant such exemptions in open court with the entire panel watching. If he showed too much sympathy, too many of the prospective jurors would soon be waving their hands and claiming all manner of hardship.

He would quietly dismiss the three after lunch.

The defense team, along with Harry Rex, went to Morris Finley’s office on Main Street, their headquarters for the duration of the trial. Finley had sandwiches and soft drinks waiting and they ate quickly.

Rodney Cote, Gwen Hailey’s cousin, was juror number twenty-seven, and certainly within reach. Jake knew for a fact that Carl Lee had met with him and discussed the case. Jake was still obsessed with the fact that Cote had been in the courtroom during the Hailey trial. What Jake didn’t know was whether Willie Hastings had told Ozzie