A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,53

weight from his right foot to his left. “Can he get off ’cause he’s crazy, Jake?”

“So that’s what’s going around?”

“Oh yeah. Folks think you’ll get him off like you did Carl Lee, by sayin’ he’s insane.”

“Well, folks have to say something, don’t they, Moss?”

“That they do, yes. But that ain’t right, Jake.” He cleared his throat and spat near the bumper as if disgusted. “Folks are gonna be upset, Jake, and I hate to see you take the blame.”

“I’m just a temp, Moss. Noose has promised to find somebody else if it goes all the way to a trial.”

“Is that where it’s goin’?”

“Don’t know. I’m pinch-hitting till there’s an indictment and something gets put on a calendar, then I’ll bail.”

“That’s good to hear. This might get nasty before it’s over.”

“It’s already nasty.”

Ozzie was back with the other deputies. He spoke to Moss Junior who opened a rear door and asked Drew to step out. They quickly escorted him inside the building and Jake followed along.

In a small conference room, Dr. Rooker was waiting and introduced herself to Jake. They had spoken on the phone several times and the introduction was brief. She was tall and slender, with bright red hair that was probably not natural, and she wore funky reading glasses of many colors that were perched on the tip of her nose. She was about fifty, older than any of the men and thoroughly unintimidated by any of them. This was her office, her show.

Once Ozzie felt the defendant was secure, he excused himself and said he and Moss Junior would be waiting down the hall. It was clear that Dr. Rooker did not like the idea of armed men waiting in her quiet little office suite, but under the circumstances she went along. It was not every day that she talked to a man, or a kid, who was charged with capital murder.

Drew looked even smaller in the oversized jumpsuit. The rubber shower shoes looked ridiculous and were several sizes too large. They barely touched the floor as he sat with his hands folded in his lap, chin down, eyes on the floor, as if too frightened to acknowledge those around him.

Jake said, “Drew, this is Dr. Rooker, and she is here to help you.”

With effort, he nodded at her, then looked back at the floor.

Jake said, “I’ll be here for just a moment, then I’ll disappear. I’m going to ask you to listen to her carefully and answer her questions. She’s on our side, Drew. Do you understand?”

He nodded and slowly lifted his eyes to the wall above Jake’s head, as if he heard something up there and didn’t like it. A slow, mournful groan came out, but he said nothing. As frightening as it was, Jake wanted the kid to start his incessant humming again. Dr. Rooker needed to hear it and evaluate it, if that was possible.

“How old are you, Drew?” she asked.

“Sixteen.”

“And when is your birthday?”

“February the tenth.”

“So last month. Did you have a party on your birthday?”

“No.”

“Did you have birthday cake?”

“No.”

“Did your friends at school know it was your birthday?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Who is your mother?”

“Josie.”

“And you have a sister, right?”

“Right. Kiera.”

“And there’s nobody else in your family?”

He shook his head.

“No grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins?”

He kept shaking his head.

“How about your father?”

His eyes were suddenly wet and he wiped them on an orange sleeve. “Don’t know him.”

“Have you ever known your father?”

He shook his head.

She estimated his height at five feet and his weight at a hundred pounds. There was no visible muscle development. His voice was high, soft, still childlike. There was no facial hair, no acne, nothing to indicate that the middle stages of puberty had arrived.

He closed his eyes again and began rocking, slightly, leaning forward from the waist, then easing back.

She touched his knee and asked, “Drew, are you afraid of something right now?”

He began to hum in that same steady emission that at times sounded more like a soft growl. They listened to him for a moment, exchanged glances, and then she asked, “Drew, why do you make that noise?”

The only response was more of the same. She withdrew her hand, glanced at her watch, and relaxed as if they might be a while. A minute passed, then two. After five, she nodded at Jake and he quietly left the room.

* * *

—

THE HOSPITAL WAS not far away. Jake found Ms. Gamble in a second-floor semi-private room shared with what appeared to be a corpse but was,