A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,62

their respects to the fallen hero.

* * *

—

JAKE HATED FUNERALS and avoided them whenever possible. He viewed them as a serious waste of time, money, and, especially, emotion. Nothing was gained by having a funeral, only the satisfaction of showing up and being seen by the grieving family. And what was the benefit of that? After being shot at during the Hailey trial, he’d prepared himself a new will and left written instructions to be cremated as soon as possible and buried in his hometown of Karaway with only his family present. This was a radical idea for Ford County and Carla didn’t like it. She rather enjoyed the social aspects of a good funeral.

Saturday afternoon he left his office, drove across town, and parked behind a city rec center. He walked along a nature path, climbed a small hill, and veered down a gravel trail to a clearing where he sat at a picnic table with a view of the cemetery. Hidden among the trees, he watched the hearse stop in a sea of aging tombstones. The crowd worked its way to a bright purple burial tent with Megargel’s logo embroidered in bold yellow. The pallbearers labored with the casket for at least a hundred feet, and were followed by the family.

Jake was reminded of a well-known story of a lawyer down in Jackson who stole some clients’ money, faked his own death, and watched his own funeral while sitting in a tree. After he was caught and hauled back to Jackson, he refused to speak to friends who did not attend his funeral and burial.

How angry was the mob down there? At the moment, the prevailing emotion was one of great sorrow, but would that quickly yield to resentment?

Harry Rex, who apparently had decided to skip the burial, was convinced that Jake had thoroughly screwed up their chances with Smallwood. Jake had just become the most despised lawyer in the county, and the railroad and its insurance company would probably pull back from any settlement negotiations. And what about selecting a jury now? Any pool of prospective jurors would surely have people who knew of his representation of Drew Gamble.

He was too far away to hear the words or music at the burial. After a few minutes, he left and walked back to his car.

* * *

—

LATE IN THE afternoon, family and friends gathered at the large metal building that housed the Pine Grove Volunteer Fire Company. No proper send-off was complete without a heavy meal, and the ladies of the community brought in platters of fried chicken, bowls of potato salad and slaw, trays of sandwiches and corn on the cob, casseroles of all varieties, and cakes and pies. The Kofer family stood at one end of the room in a receiving line and suffered through lengthy condolences from their friends. Pastor Wyfong was thanked and congratulated on such a fine service, and the young nephew received kind words about his poem. The cowboy brought his guitar and sang a few songs as the crowd filled their plates and dined at folding tables and chairs.

Earl stepped outside for a smoke and gathered with some friends near a fire truck. One man pulled out a pint of whiskey and passed it around. Half declined, half took a swig. Earl and Cecil passed.

A cousin said, “That sumbitch can’t claim to be crazy, can he?”

“Already done it,” Earl said. “They took him to Whitfield yesterday. Ozzie drove him down.”

“He had to, didn’t he?”

“I don’t trust him.”

“Ozzie’s on our side this time.”

“Somebody said the judge ordered the boy taken away.”

“He did,” Earl said. “I saw the court order.”

“Damned lawyers and judges.”

“It ain’t right, I’m tellin’ you.”

“A lawyer told me they’ll keep him locked up till he’s eighteen, then turn him loose.”

“Turn him loose then. We can take care of him.”

“You can’t trust Brigance.”

“Will they even put him on trial?”

“Not if he’s crazy. That’s what the lawyer said.”

“The system sucks, you know. It ain’t right.”

“Can anybody talk to Brigance?”

“Of course not. He’ll fight like hell for the boy.”

“That’s what lawyers do. The system is designed to protect the criminal these days.”

“Brigance will get him off on one of those technicalities you hear about.”

“If I saw that sonofabitch on the street I’d kick his ass.”

“All I want is justice,” Earl said. “And we ain’t gonna get it. Brigance will plead insanity and the boy will walk, just like Carl Lee Hailey.”

“It ain’t right, I’m tellin’ you. It just ain’t right.”

15

Lowell