A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,175

was no hurry.

Dyer asked, “Now, Sheriff, when did you hire Stuart Kofer?”

“May of ’85.”

“Were you concerned about his dishonorable discharge from the army?”

“Not at all. We discussed it and I was satisfied that he got a raw deal. He was really excited about law enforcement and I needed a deputy.”

“And his training?”

“I sent him to the police academy down in Jackson for its two-month program.”

“How’d he perform?”

“Outstanding. Stuart finished second in his class, got really high marks in everything, especially firearms and weaponry.”

Dyer ignored his notes, looked at the jurors, and said, “So, he was on your force for about four years before his death, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“And how would you rate his work as a deputy?”

“Stuart was exceptional. He quickly became one of the favorites, a tough cop who never shied away from danger, always ready to take the worst assignments. About three years ago we got a tip that a drug gang out of Memphis was making a delivery that night at a remote spot not far from the lake. Stuart was on duty and volunteered to have a look. We weren’t expecting much—the informant was not that reliable—but when he got there he was ambushed and took fire from some pretty nasty guys. Within minutes, three were dead, and a fourth surrendered. Stuart was slightly wounded but never missed a day of work.”

A dramatic story, which Jake knew was coming. He wanted to object on the grounds of relevance, but Noose would probably not stop the action. The defense team had discussed it at length and had finally agreed that the heroic story could benefit Drew. Let Dyer portray Stuart as a total badass, deadly with firearms, a dangerous man to be feared, especially by his girlfriend and her kids who were helpless when he got drunk and slapped them around.

Ozzie told the jury that he arrived at the scene about twenty minutes after the call from Deputy Tatum, who was waiting at the front door. An ambulance was already there and the woman, Josie Gamble, was on the stretcher and being readied for the trip to the hospital. Both of her children were seated, side by side, on the sofa in the den. Ozzie was briefed by Tatum, then walked into the bedroom and saw Stuart.

Dyer paused, glanced at Jake, and said, “Your Honor, at this time the State would like to show the jury three photographs of the crime scene.”

Jake stood and said, “Your Honor, the defense will renew its objection to these photographs on the grounds that they are inflammatory, grossly prejudicial, and unnecessary.”

Noose said, “Your objection is noted. For the record, a timely objection was filed by the defense and on July sixteenth the court held a hearing on this matter. After being fully briefed, the court ruled that three of the photos are admissible. Your objection, Mr. Brigance, is overruled. As a word of caution, to the jurors and the spectators, the photos are graphic. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you have no choice but to examine the photographs. As for anyone else, please use your own discretion. Proceed, Mr. Dyer.”

Regardless of how shocking and horrible they were, crime scene photos were rarely excluded in murder trials. Dyer handed a color eight-by-ten to Ozzie and said, “Sheriff Walls, this is State’s exhibit number two. Can you identify it?”

Ozzie looked, grimaced, said, “This is a photo of Stuart Kofer, taken from the doorway of his bedroom.”

“And does it accurately portray what you saw?”

“Afraid so.” Ozzie lowered the photograph and looked away.

Dyer said, “Your Honor, I’d like permission to hand the jurors three copies of the same photo, and to put the image on the screen.”

“Proceed.”

Jake had objected to blasting the blood and gore on the big screen. Noose had overruled him. Suddenly, there was Stuart, lying across his bed, his feet hanging off the side, pistol beside his head, with a pool of dark red blood soaking the sheets and mattress.

There were groans and gasps from the spectators. Jake stole a few glances at the jurors, several of whom looked away from the photos and the screen. Several others glared at Drew with pure contempt.

The second photo was taken from a spot near Stuart’s feet, a much closer view of his head and shattered skull, brains, lots of blood.

A woman behind Jake was sobbing, and he knew it was Janet Kofer.

Dyer took his time. He was playing his strongest hand and making the most of it. The third photo was a