A Time for Mercy

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A Time for Mercy Page 49

by John Grisham


  The room was silent as they weighed his words. After a moment, Jake asked, “Anybody disagree?”

  Eyes met eyes as they studied each other, but no one spoke.

  Jake finally said, “And if we rest, then the State is done because there is nothing to rebut. Dyer will be surprised. We’ll immediately go to the jury instructions, which we’ll have ready but he won’t. Then we’ll do our closing arguments, and I’m guessing his is not quite ready. Resting this early is another ambush.”

  “I love it!” Harry Rex said.

  “But is it fair?” Carla asked.

  “At this point, everything is fair,” Harry Rex said with a laugh.

  “Yes, dear, it’s quite fair. Either side can rest with no warning to the other.”

  Lucien sat down, and Jake looked at him for a long time. The others waited as they finished their chips and tea and wondered what was next. Finally, Jake asked, “And Drew? Would you put him on?”

  “Never,” Harry Rex said.

  “I’ve spent hours with him, Harry Rex. He can do it.”

  “Dyer will eat him alive because he’s guilty, Jake. He pulled the damn trigger.”

  “And he won’t deny it. But he has some zingers ready for Dyer, just like his sister. I mean, ‘I was being raped by the police’ might go down in history. Lucien?”

  “I rarely put the defendant on the stand, but this kid looks so young, so harmless. It’s your call, Jake. I haven’t spent time with him.”

  Carla said, “Well, I have, many hours, and I believe Drew is ready. He can tell a powerful story. He’s just a boy who’s had a hard life. I think most of the jurors will show a little mercy.”

  “I agree,” Libby said softly.

  With that, Jake glanced at his watch and said, “There’s plenty of time. Let’s all stand down. Carla and I need to take a long drive. Meeting adjourned.”

  * * *

  —

  JUDGE NOOSE SENT word through his bailiff to Ozzie who was waiting for the Kofers when they returned to the courthouse. A meeting was offered, and at 1:45 Earl, Janet, Barry, and Cecil walked into the empty and somewhat cooler courtroom, and found His Honor, robeless and sitting not on the bench but in the jury box, rocking in a comfortable chair with his bailiff nearby. Ozzie led them through the bar and they stopped in front of the judge.

  Earl seemed angry, even belligerent. Janet looked thoroughly defeated, as if she had given up the fight.

  “You disrupted my courtroom,” Noose said sternly. “That is unacceptable.”

  “Well, Judge, we’re just sick of the damned lies, that’s all,” Earl said, as if ready for a fight.

  Noose pointed a crooked finger and said, “Watch your language, sir. Right now I’m not concerned with the lawyers and witnesses. It’s your behavior that bothers me. You caused a disturbance, had to be escorted out, and threatened one of my lawyers. I could hold you in contempt right now and have you jailed. Do you realize that?”

  Earl did not. His shoulders sagged and his attitude vanished. He’d accepted the invitation to this little meeting because he had a thing or two to tell the judge, without a passing thought about going to jail.

  His Honor continued, “Now, here’s the question. Do you want to watch the rest of this trial?”

  All four nodded, yes. Janet wiped her cheeks again.

  “Okay. That third row over there behind the prosecutor will be reserved for you. Mr. Kofer, I want you to take the aisle seat. If I hear another sound or if you disturb my proceedings in any way, I’ll have you taken out again, and with consequences. Understand?”

  “Sure,” Earl said.

  “Yes sir,” Barry grunted.

  Janet dabbed her eyes.

  “All right. We have an understanding.” Noose leaned forward and relaxed. The heavy work was over. “Please allow me to say this. I am very sorry for your loss and I’ve prayed for you since I heard the news. We are not supposed to bury our children. I met your son briefly one day in court in Clanton, so I can’t claim any friendship, but he seemed like a fine young officer. As this trial has progressed, I have felt sympathy for you as you sit out there and hear some terrible things said about your son. I’m sure it’s just awful. However, we cannot change the facts, or the allegations. Trials are often messy and ugly. For that, I am sorry.”

  They were not prepared to respond, nor were they the kind of people who could simply say “Thanks.”

  * * *

  —

  AS JAKE AND Carla ducked through a rear door of the main courthouse building, Dumas Lee popped up from nowhere and said, “Hello, Jake, got time for a question?”

  “Hello, Dumas,” Jake said politely. They had known each other for ten years and the guy was just doing his job. “Sorry, Dumas, but I can’t talk. Judge Noose has told the lawyers to shut up.”

  “A gag order?”

  “No, a shut-up order, issued in chambers.”

  “Will your client testify?”

  “No comment. Come on, Dumas.”

  That morning’s weekly edition of the Times had neglected all county news except for the trial. The entire front page was covered with photos—Jake entering the courthouse, Dyer doing the same, the defendant exiting a patrol car in a coat and tie and duly shackled. Dumas wrote two long articles, one about the alleged crime and all the players, one about jury selection. To embarrass a neighboring county, the editor even included a bad photo of the old courthouse. The caption under it described it as “built in the last century and in need of renovation.”

  “Later, Dumas,” Jake said as he led Carla down a hallway.

  The news vans were gone. The Tupelo paper ran a short front-page story on Tuesday. Jackson ran the same story on page three. Memphis wasn’t interested.

  48

  When court was called to order at 2:05, the courtroom was at least ten degrees cooler and much less humid. Judge Noose again invited the attorneys to work without jackets, but they left them on. He looked at Jake and said, “Call your next witness.”

  Jake stood and said, “Your Honor, the defense calls Mr. Drew Gamble to the stand.” There was a rustling through the crowd at this unexpected move. Lowell Dyer shot Jake a wary look.

  Drew rose and marched to the court reporter, took his oath, and settled into the witness chair. He was startled by the entirely different view of things. Jake had told him this would happen, said it would be shocking at first to see all those adults staring at him. His written instructions read: “Look at me, Drew. Look me in the eyes at all times. Do not look at the jurors. Do not look at your mother or sister. Do not look at the other lawyers, nor the people out there in the audience. Everyone will be looking at you, so ignore them. Look me in the eyes. Don’t smile, don’t frown. Don’t speak too loud, nor too soft. We’ll start with some easy questions and you’ll get comfortable. You’re not in the habit of saying ‘Yes sir’ and ‘No sir,’ but DO IT EVERY TIME when you’re on the stand. Start practicing now with me and the jailers.”

  In his cell, late at night, Jake had shown him how to sit and keep his hands still, how to stay six inches from the mike, how to frown at a confusing question, what to do if the judge spoke to him, how to sit passively if the lawyers got into an argument, and how to say, “Sir, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand.” They had practiced for hours.

  The easy questions and answers did indeed settle his nerves, but then Drew felt oddly at ease to begin with. For a day and a half he’d sat between his lawyers as witnesses came and went. As Jake had instructed, he watched them carefully. Some were good, others were not. Kiera had been visibly frightened, but her fear had connected with the jurors.

  He had learned a lot about testifying just from being there.

  No sir, he had never known his father, nor his grandfathers. He did not know any of his uncles or cousins.

  Jake asked, “Now,
Drew, how many times have you been arrested?”

  It was an odd question. Youth court convictions were off-limits. The State certainly couldn’t mention them. But, as with Josie, Jake wanted transparency, especially when it benefitted the defense.

  “Twice.”

  “How old were you the first time?”

  “Twelve.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, me and a buddy named Danny Ross stole two bicycles and got caught.”

  “Why did you steal bicycles?”

  “Because we didn’t have one.”

  “Okay, and what happened when you got caught?”

  “We went to court and the judge said we were guilty, and we were. So they put me in a juvenile detention center for about four months.”

  “And where was this?”

  “Over in Arkansas.”

  “Where were you living at the time?”

  “Well, sir, we were, uh, livin’ in a car.”

  “With your mother and sister?”

  “Yes sir.” With a quick nod, Jake invited him to continue. Drew said, “My mother didn’t object to me goin’ to the juvenile jail because at least I would get somethin’ to eat.”

  Dyer stood and said, “Objection, Your Honor. Relevance. This trial is about capital murder, not a stolen bike.”

  “Sustained. Move along, Mr. Brigance.”

  “Yes, Your Honor.” But Dyer did not ask for the response to be stricken from the record. The jury heard that the kids were hungry and homeless.

  Jake asked, “And what was the second arrest?”

  “When I was thirteen I got caught with some pot.”

  “Were you trying to sell it?”

  “No sir. It wasn’t much.”

  “What happened?”

  “They sent me back to the same place for three months.”

  “Do you use drugs now?”

  “No sir.”

  “Do you drink alcohol?”

  “No sir.”

  “Have you been in trouble with the law in the past three years?”

  “No sir, other than this.”

  “Okay, let’s talk about this.” Jake stepped away from the podium and looked at the jury. If Jake did so, then it was okay for Drew to have a quick look too. At that moment, the jurors were watching Jake.

  “When did you first meet Stuart Kofer?”

  “The day we moved in. I don’t remember when it was.”

  “How did Stuart treat you in the beginning?”

  “Well, we sure didn’t feel welcome. It was his house and he had a lot of rules, some he made up on the spot. He had us do a lot of chores. He was never nice to us and we knew right away that he didn’t want us in his house. So we, me and Kiera, tried to stay away from him. He didn’t want us at the table when he was eatin’ so we took our food upstairs, or outside.”

  “Where did your mother eat?”

  “With him. They argued a lot, though, right from the beginnin’. Mom wanted us to be a real family, you know, do things together. Have supper, go to church, things like that, but Stu couldn’t stand us. He didn’t want us. Nobody has ever wanted us.”

  Pitch-perfect, thought Jake, and with no objection from Dyer. He wanted to pounce and object to the leading questions, but at the moment the jurors were captivated and would resent the interruption.

  “Were you physically abused by Stuart Kofer?”

  Drew paused and looked confused. “What do you mean by ‘physically abused’?”

  “Did he hit you?”

  “Oh, yeah, I got slapped around a few times.”

  “Do you remember the first time?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “What happened?”

  “Well, Stu asked me if I wanted to go fishin’, and I really didn’t want to because I didn’t like him and he didn’t like me. But my mom had been buggin’ him to do something with me, you know, like a real father, throw a baseball, go fishin’ or something fun. So he got his boat and we went to the lake. He started drinkin’ beer and that was always a bad sign. We were in the middle of the lake when a big fish hit my hook hard and took off. I was surprised and didn’t grip the rod fast enough, and so the rod and reel disappeared underwater. Stu went crazy. He cussed like a dog and slapped me twice in the face, hard. He was out of his mind, yellin’ and cussin’ and sayin’ that rig cost him over a hundred dollars and I had to pay him back. I thought he might knock me out of the boat. He got so mad he cranked the engine, flew to the ramp, got the boat out, and headed home. He was still cussin’. He had a terrible temper, especially when he was drinkin’.”

  Dyer finally stood and said, “Your Honor. Objection. Leading and relevance. I’m not sure what’s happening here, Your Honor, but this is a direct examination and this witness is being allowed to ramble on forever.”

  Noose removed his reading glasses and chewed on a stem for a moment. “Agreed, Mr. Dyer, but this testimony is coming in regardless, so let’s allow the witness to testify.”

  Jake said, “Thank you, Your Honor. Now, Drew, what happened as you were driving home from the lake?”

  “Well, when we got close to the house, he kept lookin’ at me and saw that my left eye was swollen where he’d hit me. So he told me not to tell my mom. He told me to say that I slipped and fell as we were loadin’ the boat.”

  Dyer stood and said, “Objection. Hearsay.”

  “Overruled. Continue.”

  Jake had instructed him to immediately continue when the Judge said “Continue.” Don’t wait on the lawyers. Finish the story.

  Drew said, “And then he threatened to kill me.”

  “Was that the first time he threatened you?”

  “Yes sir. Said he would kill me and Kiera if we ever told Mom.”

  “Was he physically abusing Kiera?”

  “Well, we know it now, I guess.”

  “Okay, Drew, before he died, did you know that Stuart Kofer was sexually assaulting your sister?”

  “No sir. She didn’t tell me.”

  Jake paused and checked some notes on a legal pad. The courtroom was quiet, but for the window units. The temperature was improving as a layer of clouds moved in to block the sun.

  Jake stood beside the podium and asked, “Drew, were you and Kiera afraid of Stuart Kofer?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Why?”

  “He was a tough guy with a bad temper, a mean drunk, and he had plenty of guns, plus he was a deputy and liked to brag that he could get away with anything, includin’ murder. Then he started beatin’ Mom and things just got so bad…” His voice trailed off and he dropped his head. He was suddenly sobbing and shaking as he fought to keep his composure. A painful moment passed as everyone watched him.

  Jake said, “Let’s talk about the night Stuart died.”

  Drew took a deep breath, looked at his lawyer, and wiped his cheeks with the back of a sleeve. Because he and Kiera had been so thoroughly prepped, their stories matched perfectly until they reached the critical point when they found their mother unconscious and apparently dead. From then on, they were not thinking clearly and certainly couldn’t remember their exact words and movements. Both were crying and at times hysterical. He remembered moving around the house, looking at Stuart on the bed, looking at Kiera holding Josie on the kitchen floor, listening to her as she begged her to wake up, and waiting at the front window for help to arrive.

  And then he heard something. A coughing, snorting sound, and the squeaking of the box spring and the mattress. Stuart was moving back there, and if he got up, as he had done a month earlier, he would fly into another rage and probably kill them all.

  “And I went to the bedroom and he was still on the bed.”

  “Had he moved?” Jake asked.

  “Yes. His right arm was now
across his chest. He wasn’t snorin’. I just knew he was about to get up. So I got his gun off the table where he always kept it, and I left the room with it.”

  “Why did you take the gun?”

  “I don’t know. I guess I was afraid he might use it.”

  “What did you do with the gun?”

  “I don’t know. I walked back to the window and waited some more, just kept waitin’ for blue lights or red lights or someone to come help us.”

  “Were you familiar with the gun?”

  “Yes sir. Stuart took me out in the woods one day for some target practice. We used his service gun, his Glock.”

  “How many times did you fire it?”

  “Three or four. He had a target on some hay bales. I couldn’t hit it and he laughed at me, called me a sissy, among other things.”

  Jake pointed to exhibit number one lying on the table. “Is that the gun, Drew?”

  “I think so. Sure looks like it.”

  “So, Drew, you were standing at the window, waiting, holding that gun there, and what happened next?”

  Staring at Jake, he said, “I remember hearin’ Kiera, and I remember bein’ so scared. I knew he was gettin’ up, comin’ after us, so I went to the bedroom. My hands were shakin’ so bad I could barely hold the gun. And I put it next to his head.”

  His voice cracked again and he wiped his eyes.

  Jake asked, “Do you remember pulling the trigger, Drew?”

  He shook his head. “No, I don’t. I’m not sayin’ I didn’t do it, I’m just sayin’ I don’t remember it. I remember closin’ my eyes, and the gun shakin’ so hard, and I remember the sound.”

  “Do you remember putting the gun down?”

  “No.”

  “Do you remember telling Kiera that you shot Stuart?”

  “No.”

  “Well, Drew, what do you remember?”

  “The next thing was sittin’ in the police car, with handcuffs, flyin’ down the road and wonderin’ what I was doin’ there and where was I goin’.”

 

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