A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,41

involved?” Prather asked.

“As I said, because Noose appointed him. The kid has to have a lawyer and, evidently, no one else would take it.”

“I thought we had a public defender,” Hastings said. “I like Jake and I don’t want him on the other side.” Willie Hastings was a cousin to Gwen Hailey, mother of Tonya, wife of Carl Lee, and in their world Jake Brigance walked on water.

“Our public defender is a greenhorn who’s yet to handle a serious case. I’ve heard that Noose doesn’t like him. Look, guys, Omar Noose is the circuit judge and has been for a long time. Love him or hate him, but he rules the system. He can make or break a lawyer and he’s quite fond of Jake. Jake couldn’t say no.”

“But I thought Jake was just doin’ the preliminary stuff until they brought in somebody else?” Prather asked.

“Who knows? A lot can happen and it’s still early. They may have trouble findin’ somebody else. Also, Jake’s an ambitious lawyer who likes the attention. Keep in mind he was hired and trained by Lucien Wilbanks, a radical in his day who would defend anyone.”

“I can’t believe it,” Tatum said. “Jake did a land deal for my uncle last year.”

Ozzie said, “He said they’re already gettin’ phone calls, threats. I’m gonna ride out again and talk to Earl Kofer, pay my respects and such, talk about the burial, and make sure those folks are under control.”

“The Kofers are okay,” Prather said. “I know some of them and they’re just in shock right now.”

“Aren’t we all?” asked Ozzie. He closed the file, took a deep breath, and looked at his three deputies. He settled on Prather and finally asked, “Okay, let’s hear it.”

Marshall tossed his sheet of paper on the desk and lit a cigarette. He walked to a window, cracked it for ventilation, and leaned against the wall. “I talked to my cousin. He wasn’t out with Kofer Saturday night. He called around and got the scoop. Seems there was a card game at Dog Hickman’s cabin near the lake. Poker, low stakes, not a high-dollar crowd, but an unnamed player showed up with some shine, peach flavored, fresh from the still, and they got into it. Everybody got wasted. Three of them passed out and stayed there. They don’t remember much. Kofer decided it would be smart to drive home. Somehow he made it.”

Ozzie interrupted with “Sounds like Gary Garver’s still.”

Prather took a drag and stared at the sheriff. “I didn’t ask for names, Ozzie, and none were offered, except for Kofer and Dog Hickman. Kofer’s dead and the other four are kinda scared right now.”

“Scared of what?”

“I don’t know, maybe they feel some responsibility. They were gamblin’ and hittin’ the moonshine and now their buddy is dead.”

“They must be stupid.”

“I didn’t say they weren’t.”

“If we start raidin’ dice and poker games we’ll have to build a new jail. Get me their names, okay, and assure them that they will not be charged.”

“I’ll try.”

“Get their names, Marshall, because you can bet that Harry Rex Vonner will have the names by tomorrow, and Jake’ll get to them first.”

Moss Junior said, “They’ve done nothin’ wrong. What’s the big deal? The only crime here is murder and we got the killer, right?”

“Nothin’ is that simple,” Ozzie said. “If this thing goes to trial you can bet your ass the defense lawyer, whoever it is, will make hay out of Kofer’s bad behavior that led to the shootin’.”

“They can’t do that,” Prather said. “He’s dead.”

“And why is he dead? Is he dead because he came home drunk and fell asleep and this stupid kid thought it would be fun to blow his brains out? No. Is he dead because his girlfriend wanted his money? No, Marshall. He’s dead because he had the bad habit of gettin’ bombed and punchin’ her around and her boy tried to protect her. This will be an ugly trial, boys, so just get ready for it. That’s why it’s imperative now that we know everything that happened. Start with Dog Hickman. Who can talk to him?”

“Swayze knows him,” Willie said.

“Okay. Get Swayze to run him down as soon as possible. And make sure these clowns know we’re not after them.”

“Got it, boss.”

* * *

—

WITH CARLA TEACHING school and spending many of her evenings preparing lesson plans and grading papers and trying to monitor Hanna’s homework, there was little time for the kitchen. The three ate dinner together most evenings at