A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,186
“Your Honor, I’d like to approach the witness.”
“Proceed.”
Jake handed the photo to Josie and asked her, “Can you identify this photograph?”
“Yes. It was taken of me the followin’ day in the hospital.”
“Your Honor, I’d like to enter into the record this photo as defense exhibit number one.”
Lowell Dyer, who had copies of eight photos taken of Josie, rose and said, “The State objects on the grounds of relevancy.”
“Overruled. It is admitted into evidence.”
Jake said, “Your Honor, I’d like the jury to see this evidence.”
“Proceed.”
Jake took the remote, pressed a button, and the startling image of a battered woman splashed onto the wide screen on the wall opposite the jurors. Everyone in the courtroom could see it. Josie in the hospital bed, the left side of her face swollen grotesquely, her left eye shut, thick gauze covering her chin and wrapped around her head. A tube ran into her mouth. Others hung from above. Her face was unrecognizable.
Every juror reacted. Some shifted uncomfortably. Some leaned forward as if a few inches would provide a better look at what was perfectly clear. Number five, Mr. Carpenter, shook his head. Number eight, Mrs. Satterfield, stared openmouthed, as if in disbelief.
Harry Rex would later say that Janet Kofer dropped her head.
Jake asked, “Do you know what time you woke up?”
“Around eight that mornin’, they said. I was on painkillers and other stuff and pretty groggy.”
“How long were you in the hospital?”
“That was Sunday. On Wednesday they moved me to the hospital in Tupelo for surgery to reset my jaw. It was shattered. I was released on Friday.”
“And did you make a full recovery from your injuries?”
She nodded and said, “I’m fine.”
Jake had other photos of Josie in the hospital, but at that moment they were not needed. He had other questions, but Lucien had taught him years ago to quit when you’re ahead. When you’ve driven home your points, leave something to the imagination of the jurors.
He said, “I tender the witness.”
Noose said, “Let’s take a break. Fifteen-minute recess.”
* * *
—
LOWELL DYER AND his assistant Musgrove huddled in a first-floor restroom and tried to decide what to do next. Normally, a convicted felon was easy to cross-examine because his or her credibility was questionable. But Josie had already talked about her convictions, and some of her other problems as well. She was forthcoming, credible, sympathetic, and the jury would never forget the image of her in the hospital.
They agreed that they had no choice but to attack. From some angle.
When Josie retook the stand, Dyer began with, “Ms. Gamble, how many times have you lost custody of your children?”
“Twice.”
“What was the first time?”
“Approximately ten years ago. Drew was around five or so, Kiera was three.”
“And why did you lose custody?”
“They were taken away by the State of Louisiana.”
“And why did this happen?”
“Well, Mr. Dyer, I was not a very good mother back then. I was married to a small-time drug dealer who peddled his goods out of our apartment. Someone complained and social services came in, got them, and took me to court.”
“Were you selling drugs too?”
“Yes, I was. I’m not proud of it. I wish I could do many things over, Mr. Dyer.”
“What happened to your kids?”
“They were placed in foster care, in good homes. I got to see them occasionally. I split up with the guy, got a divorce, and managed to get my kids back.”
“What happened the second time?”
“I was livin’ with a house painter who also sold drugs. He got caught and plea-bargained his way out by tellin’ the authorities that the drugs belonged to me. A bad lawyer convinced me to plead to a lesser sentence and I got sent away to a women’s prison in Texas. Served two years. Drew and Kiera were placed in a Baptist orphanage in Arkansas and were treated very well.”
Don’t volunteer too much, Jake had warned her repeatedly. At the moment, she felt as though she knew every question Dyer might throw at her.
“Do you still use drugs?”
“No sir, I don’t. I quit years ago, for the sake of my kids.”
“Did you ever sell drugs?”
“Yes.”
“So you admit that you’ve used drugs, sold drugs, lived with drug dealers, been arrested, how many times?”
“Four.”
“Arrested four times, convicted twice, and served time in prison.”
“I’m not proud of any of that, Mr. Dyer.”
“Who would be? And you expect this jury to believe in your credibility as a witness and believe all of your testimony?”