A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,6

DeWayne Looney had his leg blown off in the courthouse shooting that put Carl Lee Hailey on trial in 1985, but Looney was still on the force.

But there, in all its ghastliness, was his first. There was Stuart Kofer, one of his best and certainly his most fearless, dead as a doornail as his body continued to leak fluids.

Ozzie removed his hat, said a quick prayer, and took a step back. Without taking his eyes off Kofer, he said, “Murder of a law enforcement officer. Call in the state boys and let them investigate. Don’t touch anything.” He looked at Tatum and asked, “You talked to the kids?”

“I did.”

“Same story?”

“Yes sir. The boy won’t talk. His sister says he shot him. Thought their mother was dead.”

Ozzie nodded and thought about the situation. He said, “All right, no more questions for the kids, no more interrogation. From this point on, everything we do will be picked through by the lawyers. Let’s take the kids in, but not a word. In fact, put ’em in my car.”

“Handcuffs?”

“Sure. For the boy. Do they have any family around here?”

Deputy Mick Swayze cleared his throat and said, “I don’t think so, Ozzie. I knew Kofer pretty well and he had this gal livin’ with him, said she had a rough background. One divorce, maybe two. I’m not sure where she’s from but he did say she ain’t from around here. I came out here a few weeks ago on a disturbance call, but she didn’t press charges.”

“All right. We’ll figure it out. I’ll take the kids in. Moss, you ride with me. Mick, you stay here.”

Drew stood when asked and offered his hands. Tatum gently cuffed them in the front and led the suspect out of the house and to the sheriff’s car. Kiera followed, wiping tears. The hillside was manic with a thousand flashing lights. Word was out that an officer was down, and every off-duty cop in the county wanted a look.

* * *

—

OZZIE DODGED THE other patrol cars and ambulances and weaved down the drive to the county road. He turned his blue lights on and hit the gas.

Drew asked, “Sir, can we see our mother?”

Ozzie looked at Tatum and said, “Turn on your tape recorder.”

Tatum removed a small recorder from a pocket and flipped a switch.

Ozzie said, “Okay, we are now recording anything that’s said. This is Sheriff Ozzie Walls and today is March twenty-fifth, nineteen ninety, at three fifty-one in the morning, and I’m driving to the Ford County jail with Deputy Moss Junior Tatum in the front seat, and in the backseat we have, what’s your full name, son?”

“Drew Allen Gamble.”

“Age?”

“Sixteen.”

“And your name, Miss?”

“Kiera Gale Gamble, age fourteen.”

“And your mother’s name?”

“Josie Gamble. She’s thirty-two.”

“Okay. I advise you not to talk about what happened tonight. Wait until you have a lawyer. Understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Now, you asked about your mother, right?”

“Yes sir. Is she alive?”

Ozzie glanced at Tatum, who shrugged and said into the recorder, “As far as we know, Josie Gamble is alive. She was taken from the scene in an ambulance and is probably already at the hospital.”

“Can we go see her?” Drew asked.

“No, not right now,” Ozzie said.

They rode in silence for a moment, then Ozzie said, in the direction of the recorder, “You were the first on the scene, right?”

Tatum said, “Yes.”

“And did you ask these two kids what happened?”

“I did. The boy, Drew, said nothing. I asked his sister, Kiera, if she knew anything, and she said her brother shot Kofer. At that point I stopped askin’ questions. It was pretty clear what happened.”

The radio was squawking and all of Ford County, even in the darkness, seemed to be alive. Ozzie turned down the volume and went silent himself. He kept his foot on the gas and his big brown Ford roared down the county road, straddling the center line, daring any varmint to venture onto the pavement.

He had hired Stuart Kofer four years earlier, after Kofer returned to Ford County from an abbreviated career in the army. Stuart had managed a passable job in explaining his dishonorable discharge, said it was all about technicalities and misunderstandings and so on. Ozzie gave him a uniform, put him on probation for six months, and sent him to the academy in Jackson where he excelled. On duty, there were no complaints. Kofer had become an instant legend when he single-handedly took out three drug dealers from Memphis who had gotten lost in rural Ford County.

Off-duty was another