A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,34

meant nothing, but after some stern warnings from Jake and a direct threat of bodily harm from Portia, he’d backed off and grown to admire her.

“We had another call, Jake, about five minutes ago,” she said. “Anonymous. Some hick said if you tried to get this boy off like you got that Hailey nigger off, there would be hell to pay.”

“I’m sorry he said that, Portia,” Jake said, stunned.

“It’s okay. I’ve heard it before and I’m sure I’ll hear it again.”

“I’m sorry too, Portia,” Lucien said softly. “Real sorry.”

Jake waved at a wooden chair next to Lucien and she sat down. In unison, they sipped their coffee and thought about the N-word. Twelve years earlier, when Jake finished law school and arrived in Clanton as the rookie, the word was commonly used by white lawyers and judges as they gossiped and told jokes and even did their business without an audience. Now, though, in 1990, its usage was fading and it was deemed improper, even low-class, to use it. Jake’s mother hated the word and had never allowed it, but, growing up in Karaway, Jake knew that his home was different in that respect.

He looked at Portia, who at the moment seemed less bothered than the two men, and said, “I’m really sorry you heard that in this office.”

“Hey, I’m okay. I’ve heard it my entire life. I heard it in the army. I’ll hear it again. I can deal with it, Jake. But, just to clear the air here, all the players involved are white. Right?”

“Yes.”

“So, we shouldn’t expect the Kluckers and those guys to show up, like Hailey, right?”

“Who knows?” Lucien said. “There are plenty of nuts out there.”

“You got that right. Not yet nine on a Monday morning and two calls already. Two threats.”

“What was the first one?” Lucien asked.

“The father of the deceased, a man named Earl Kofer,” Jake said. “I’ve never met him but it looks like that might change.”

“The father of the deceased called the lawyer of the person arrested for the killing?”

Jake and Portia nodded. Lucien shook his head, then he smiled and said, “I love it. Makes me wish I was back in the trenches.”

The desk phone rang and Jake stared at it. Line three was blinking and that usually meant Carla was calling. He slowly lifted the receiver, said hello, and listened. She was at school, in her classroom, first period. The secretary in the principal’s office down the hall had just answered the phone, and a man who refused to give his name asked if Jake Brigance’s wife worked there. He said he was a good friend of Stuart Kofer, said Kofer had a lot of friends, and that they were upset because Carl Lee Hailey’s lawyer was now trying to get that kid out of jail. Said jail was the only thing keeping the boy alive at the moment. When she asked his name for the second time, he hung up.

The secretary informed the principal, who told Carla, then called the city police.

* * *

—

WHEN JAKE WHEELED to a stop in front of the school, he parked behind two patrol cars. An officer named Step Lemon, a former bankruptcy client of Jake’s, was at the front door and greeted Jake like an old friend. Lemon said, “The call came from a pay phone at Parker’s store, down by the lake. That’s as far as we can dig. I’ll get Ozzie to ask around at the store but my guess is it’s a waste of time.”

Jake said, “Thanks,” and they stepped inside where the principal was waiting with Carla, who seemed thoroughly unflustered by the phone call. She and Jake walked away for some privacy. “Hanna’s fine,” Carla whispered. “They checked on her right away and she knows nothing.”

“The asshole called the school where you work,” Jake whispered.

“Watch your language. It’s just some nut, Jake.”

“I know. But nuts can do stupid things. We’ve had two calls at the office already.”

“Do you think it’ll blow over?”

“No. There are too many big events just around the corner. The boy’s first court appearance. Kofer’s funeral. More court appearances, and one day there might be a trial.”

“But you’re just temporary, right?”

“Right. I’ll see Noose tomorrow and tell him what’s going on. He can find another lawyer from outside the county. You’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Jake. You didn’t have to race over here.”

“Yes I did.”

He walked out of the building with Officer Lemon, shook hands with him and thanked him again, and got in