cold, then the suspect shot him. Is that what happened, Sheriff?”
“Basically, yes.”
“Basically? Did I get something wrong?”
“No sir.”
“Did he physically abuse the children?”
“They did not report that at the time.”
“What condition was Kofer in when he got shot?”
“Well, we believe he was lying on his bed, asleep. Evidently, there was no struggle with Drew.”
“Where was the gun?”
“We don’t know exactly.”
Mr. Richard Bland from down in Lake Village said, “So, Sheriff, it looks like Mr. Kofer was passed out drunk on his bed and was not awake when the kid shot him, is that right?”
“We don’t know if Stu was awake or asleep when he was shot, no sir.”
Lowell didn’t like the direction of the questioning and said, “I’d like to remind you that the condition of either the deceased or the defendant is not an issue for this grand jury. Claims of self-defense or insanity or whatever might be raised by the defense lawyers, but they are a matter for the trial jury to consider. Not you.”
“They’re already claiming insanity, from what I hear,” said Mr. Bland.
“Maybe so, but what you hear on the street is not important inside this room,” Lowell said in a lecturing tone. “We’re just dealing with the facts here. Any more questions?”
Miss Tabitha asked him, “Have you had a capital murder indictment before, Lowell? This is certainly the first one for us.”
“I have not, and I’m grateful for that.”
“It just seems so routine,” she said. “Like all the other cases we process in here. Present a few facts, the bare necessities, limit the discussion, and we vote. We just rubber-stamp whatever you want. But this is something else. This is the first step in a case that could send a man, or a kid, to death row at Parchman. It all seems too easy, too sudden to me. Anybody else feel this way?” She looked around but found little support.
Dyer said, “I understand, Miss Green. What else would you like to know? This is a simple case. You’ve seen the dead body. We have the murder weapon. Besides the victim there were three other people in the house, at the scene. One was unconscious. One was a sixteen-year-old boy whose fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. The third person, his sister, told Deputy Tatum that her brother shot Stuart Kofer. That’s it. Plain and simple.”
Miss Tabitha took a deep breath and fell back into her chair. Lowell waited and gave them plenty of time to think. Finally, he said, “Thank you, Sheriff.”
Without a word, Ozzie stood and left the room.
Benny Hamm looked across the table at Miss Tabitha and asked, “What’s the problem? There’s plenty of proof. What else do you want to do?”
“Oh, nothing. It just seems so fast, you know?”
Lowell said, “Well, Miss Tabitha, I assure you there’ll be plenty of time to hash out all the issues in this case. After I file the indictment, my office will investigate and prepare for a full-blown trial. The defense will do the same. Judge Noose will insist on a speedy trial, and before long you and everyone else on this grand jury can show up in the main courtroom down the hall and see how it goes.”
Benny Hamm said, “Let’s vote.”
“Let’s do it,” someone said.
Miss Tabitha said, “Oh, I’ll vote to indict. It just seems too perfunctory. Know what I mean?”
All sixteen voted and the indictment was unanimously returned.
17
Tensions at the Coffee Shop were lessened considerably when the deputies found another breakfast spot. For years Marshall Prather, Mike Nesbit, and other assorted deputies would arrive early to eat biscuits and stir up the gossip, but not every morning. They had other favorite spots, and their shifts changed so their routines varied. Jake, though, had been there six mornings a week for years, and he had always enjoyed mixing it up with the deputies. But they were boycotting him now. When it became apparent that Jake had no plans to alter his ritual, they went elsewhere, which was fine with Jake. He did not enjoy the forced pleasantries, the strained looks, the feeling that things were not the same. They had lost a comrade, and Jake was now on the other side.
He tried to convince himself it went with the territory. He almost believed that one day not too far away the Gamble case would be behind them and he and Ozzie and his men would be pals again. But the rift bothered him greatly, and he could not shake it.
Dell kept him