A Time for Mercy (Jake Brigance #3) - John Grisham Page 0,99

I do. Did you really think you could hide an eyewitness in such a major lawsuit?”

“It wasn’t so much hiding as it was just hoping he would stay away.”

Lucien nodded and put his book on the table. He lifted his glass and took a sip. He looked cold sober, no red eyes or nose. Jake was sure his innards were pickled but Lucien was a legendary drinker who could hold his liquor with anyone. He smacked his lips and said, “Harry Rex told me you guys made the decision together.”

“That’s awfully big of him.”

“I probably would’ve done the same thing. It’s a bad rule that lawyers have hated forever.”

There wasn’t the slightest doubt in Jake’s mind that Lucien would have laughed at Sean Gilder’s interrogatories and declined to identify any and all troublesome witnesses. The difference was that Lucien would not have located someone like Neal Nickel to begin with. Jake stumbled across him because he was being too thorough.

“You got a best-case scenario?” Lucien asked. “Harry Rex did not.”

“Not really. Maybe we depose the witness and he’s not as solid as we fear, then we go to trial, something like six months from now. We’ve paid the experts so they’ll be on board. The jury guy will cost us another bundle, if we use him. The facts haven’t changed, though a couple have shifted a little. The crossing is dangerous. Its warning-light system was antiquated and poorly maintained. The railroad knew it had a problem and refused to fix it. Four people were killed. We’ll get to the jury and roll the dice.”

“How much do you owe?”

“Seventy thousand.”

“You’re kiddin’? Seventy thousand dollars in litigation expenses?”

“That’s not unusual these days.”

“I never borrowed a dime on a lawsuit.”

“That’s because you inherited money, Lucien. Most of us are not so lucky.”

“My office, crazy as it was, always showed a profit.”

“You asked for the best-case scenario. You see a better one?”

Sallie came back with a tall glass of ice tea and some lemon. “Lunch in thirty minutes,” she said as she disappeared again.

“You haven’t asked for my advice yet.”

“Okay, Lucien, got any advice?”

“You gotta go after this new guy. There’s a reason he held back and a reason he came forward.”

“He told the investigator he got sued one time and hates lawyers.”

“Go after him. Find out everything about that lawsuit. Find the dirt, Jake. You gotta bury this guy in front of the jury.”

“I don’t want to go to court. I’d like to be trout fishing in some secluded mountain stream. That’s all I want.”

Lucien took another sip and returned his glass to the table. “You talked to Carla?”

“Not yet. I will when she gets home. What fun. Telling my wife, a person I adore, that I got caught cheating and tossed out of court.”

“I never did well with wives.”

“You think the railroad would settle?”

“Don’t think like that, Jake. Don’t ever show weakness. You can rebound from this by pushing hard again, squawking at Noose until he gives a new trial date, and drag these sumbitches back into court. Attack the new witness. Pick a good jury. You can handle this, Jake. No talk of settling.”

For the first time in hours, Jake managed a chuckle.

* * *

—

THE HOCUTT HOUSE had been built a few years before Lucien’s. Thankfully, old man Hocutt didn’t care for yard work so he selected a small city lot for his fine new home. Jake didn’t care for it either, but once a week during warm weather he pulled out the lawn mower and edger and spent a couple of hours sweating.

Monday afternoon seemed like a good time, and he was in the backyard laboring away when his girls got home from school. He was never there waiting for them, and Hanna was thrilled to see her father at home so early. He had cans of lemonade in a cooler, and they sat on the patio and talked about school until Hanna got bored with the adults and went inside.

“Are you okay?” Carla asked with great concern.

“No.”

“You want to talk?”

“Only if you promise to forgive me.”

“Always.”

“Thanks. It might be difficult.”

She smiled and said, “I’m with you, okay?”

23

Of the three jailers who came to his cell with meals and instructions, room checks and lights out, and occasionally a kind word, Mr. Zack was his favorite because he seemed to care. His voice was never harsh like the others. Sergeant Buford was the worst. He had once told Drew that he’d better enjoy the county jail because death row