by Allen Drury
“I repeat to counsel for the defense,” Perlie Williams said with some sternness, “that she does herself no good with that kind of remark. Counsel had her chance and refused it. Now whatever happens is at least as much counsel’s responsibility as anyone’s. I think that is quite clear on the record. No appeal can be based upon the nature of this jury, I believe. It has been selected with scrupulous fairness by Mr. Stinnet. Would counsel not agree?”
Debbie gave him a cool look.
“I will leave that judgment to others.”
“I admire your tenacity, Miss Donnelson,” Judge Williams said. “I don’t think it helps your client very much; but it is, in its own rigid way, admirable. And possibly more effective than seems likely at the moment. Time is the only possible judge of that… Speaking of time, it is now almost five p.m., and it has been a long day. Court will be in recess until nine a.m. tomorrow, at which time counsel for the state will open his case.”
And with a quick rap of his gavel and a pleasant nod to the audience, he left the chamber. A comparatively quiet opening day appeared to be coming to a quiet and routine close. For several minutes all was orderly and as expected.
The Pomeroys and the Barbours moved slowly out as the rest respectfully made way for them. The elder Holgrens had already gone, slipping out a side door of the courthouse to avoid the crowd. The defendant was being taken out in his square of police—four instead of the previous eight, which for a second puzzled him a little; but no sounds came from outside so he supposed the crowd had mostly gone, now that the novelty had worn off. The remainder of the audience was slowly moving out. The defendant just had time to call over his shoulder to his counsel, “You know, you’re damned good!” in a surprised and admiring tone that brought a wry smile to her tightly pursed lips, when he and his guards came out of the entrance into the late afternoon sunshine.
At once things began to happen, very fast.
First came a sudden roar of sound. It was instantly apparent that the crowd, far from dispersing, had regathered during the afternoon, very quietly, to almost its morning strength.
Then came the tossing of several tear-gas canisters at the prisoner, his guards and the group of reporters and cameramen that preceded them, which swiftly had them all gasping, choking, and staggering blindly about.
And then came another great roar of “Justice NOW!” and with it a flying wedge of perhaps twenty men, dressed in what appeared to be black jump suits, the shield of the organization emblazoned on their chests, carrying rifles and wearing gas masks, charging through the helpless group around the prisoner with a ruthless determination that shoved aside the few police who had been stationed along the edge of the crowd. The rush took the attackers, virtually without opposition, straight to their objective.
Within thirty seconds from his appearance on the steps Earle Holgren, blinded and gagging, was captured. His arms were swiftly roped at his sides, his stocky form was carried like a sack of potatoes to a waiting blue van. It roared off. Behind it the crowd broke and began running for its cars, apparently heading for some prearranged rendezvous.
A final great shout of animal satisfaction, happy, exultant, gratified, expectant, filled the world. Inside the entrance the Pomeroys, the Barbours and Regard shrank back stunned while out front the tear-gas victims continued to stagger, gasp and vomit, and in their midst Debbie, managing by some feat of sheer willpower to remain on her feet, screamed, “Save him! Save him! Save him!”
For a long, bitter moment the Justices stared at Regard and he stared back. Finally Tay ground out, “You created this monster. Now do what the lady says and save him!”
Regard’s face was a study. But finally he nodded.
“Yes, God damn his worthless, evil soul, I suppose I’ll have to. But,” he added grimly, “I can’t do it alone. You’d better come with me, Mr. Justice. And you too, Moss, it’s goin’ to take the three of us, with this crowd.”
Again there was a bitter moment while the two Justices looked at one another. Moss was wavering, Tay could feel it. He grasped his arm desperately.
“Moss, we must. It can’t end this way. We’d never recover from it. The Court wouldn’t recover. The law wouldn’t recover. We’ve got to try. We’ve got to.”
And at last with a deep, deep sigh, Moss inclined his head.
“Come on!” Regard yelled. “Put your handkerchiefs over your noses and run like hell!”
And stopping only to scoop up Debbie, whom he grabbed around the waist with a cry of “Come on, gal, we’re goin’ to get your worthless baby!” he led the way through the still staggering tear-gas victims and the remnants of the crowd to his blue Mercedes, unlocked and yanked open the doors, shoved her in and, after Tay and Moss had scrambled into the back seat, started the engine, turned on the siren and flashing red light that he had clapped on the roof, and shot onto the street.
“Where—?” Debbie began and started to retch. “Where—?”
“Don’t you puke on my leather!” Regard roared. “You hang your head out the window if you have to! But NOT ON MY LEATHER!”
“I am not,” she gasped, after an obviously titanic and successful struggle, “going to puke on your precious leather! Where are we going?”
“I know where we’re goin’,” Regard said, his face beginning to gleam with the excitement of the chase as the speedometer passed sixty. “Just don’t try to get out, sweetheart. Stay with me and I’ll get you there. Okay, counsel?”
“Yes, counsel,” she said, sounding more herself by the moment. “Is it the usual place where you have your lynchings?”
“And don’t be God damned smart, either,” he snapped, “because unless we get there in time, this really is goin’ to be one and you’ll really have somethin’ to tell your friends up north. Now, hang on!”
And as they all did, he gunned it up to eighty and shot through the outskirts of the city while cars and pedestrians scattered desperately in all directions.
Ten minutes later they began to be blocked by other cars, but with the siren and the constant use of his horn and the recognition that instantly came as they saw his familiar vehicle, he managed to eel on through at a still rapid pace and presently they were on the edge of a large open field. In its center stood an enormous oak and under one of its branches, from which dangled a rope, a blue van with a ladder against its side.
On its top stood four of the black-suited squad from Justice NOW!, still wearing their masks. In their midst, tightly pinioned, the rope around his neck, stood Earle Holgren. He was cold sober now and white as a sheet but the look of arrogant defiance was still there. It was obvious that if they killed him he had no intention of giving them the satisfaction of seeing him break first. With a roar of engine, squeal of brakes, scream of siren and a final long, steady blast on his horn, Regard swung in alongside the van, cut the motor, reached under his seat, grabbed a bullhorn and jumped out.
At once a deathly silence fell over the crowd, which already numbered perhaps two thousand with more arriving constantly at its outer edges.
“Listen to me!” Regard shouted through the bullhorn. “Listen to me, you good people! I want to talk to you and I’ve brought two other men who want to talk to you.” Abruptly he leaned down to the window and hissed to Debbie, “You stay in there, you bothersome woman!” Then he turned again to the crowd, which had begun to murmur uneasily. “Jenkins!” he shouted up to the top of the van. “Jenkins Terwilliger, is that you? I’d know you anywhere, you hotheaded bastard! Help me give a hand up to our two distinguished visitors here!”
And with an elaborate gesture he turned back, opened the door of the car and bowed low as he whispered urgently, “Make it good, now, you two! You’re dignified as hell, remember. Be that way!”
As Tay emerged, obediently straightening to his full six feet three and looking out upon the crowd with a gravely challenging air, he was greeted with a shout of surprise—not hostile, but, as Regard was pleased to note, uncertain. When Moss followed and stood
for a moment surveying them with equal gravity, face almost expressionless, the shout was louder, warmer—and increasingly uncertain.
“Come on!” Regard whispered. “Upsy-daisy!”
And with Jenkins Terwilliger pulling above and Regard giving a helping shove from below, first Tay, then Moss climbed up the ladder to the top of the van.
“Now, Jenkins,” Regard ordered, using the bullhorn so that his voice boomed over the field, “it’s gettin’ mighty crowded up there. I want you and your friends to come down here and guard this van while I go up there with my friends from the Supreme Court of the United States and say a few words to these good, law-abidin’ folks.”
There was a movement of protest from the four black-suited men, a turn toward ugliness in the murmur of the crowd. Regard was ready for them.
“I want you to stand guard, I said! I didn’t say I wanted you to run off and leave this—this individual alone. He can’t escape anyway, you’ve got him tied like a hog at bacon-time, but the Justices and I will vouch for him, I can promise you that. So y’all just come on down, now, and let us handle it. All right, Jenkins? This isn’t doin’ anybody any good, and you know it. Come on down, now! Right now!”
For what seemed an interminable time but could only have been a few seconds, the four atop the van hesitated while the crowd grew very still. Tay and Moss, staring out with determined calm, did not dare move. Behind them the prisoner was equally still. Regard said nothing, just continued to stare up with an air of impatience; and in a moment the gamble worked. Slowly and reluctantly, but obeying, the four black-suited figures clambered down. As each reached the ground Regard shook hands with vigorous and elaborate approval.
“Thank y’all,” he said when all were down. “Thank you for complyin’ with the law, which is what Justice NOW! is all about, remember. Now I’ll just get myself up there”—which he did with several grunts that he was careful to utter over the bullhorn, so that first a few, then many, began to laugh, and with their laughter began to dissolve the tension.
“Whooo-eeee!” he exclaimed when he finally stood on top. “That’s too much exercise for a country boy who doesn’t get any except mebbe liftin’ a jug and chasin’ women or mebbe I should say chasin’ women and liftin’ a jug.”
This time many more laughed and the tension eased still further. Tay began to realize that his respect for Regard Stinnet was rapidly going up. He glanced sideways at Moss and saw that he, too, was relaxing just a little; and although he did not dare turn and look at the prisoner, he could sense that even he was less tense. He was, in fact, Tay knew, becoming watchful. He hoped fervently that Regard knew what he was doing. He did.
“Now, first of all,” he said through the bullhorn in a familiar but still emphatic tone, “I want y’all to understand that you’ve got friends here who sympathize with how you feel—not,” he added quickly as Tay stirred a little at his side, “with the methods y’all seemed gettin’ ready to adopt to do somethin’ about it. No, sir, I’ve got to tell you honestly that all three of us up here represent the law—even though,” he added sarcastically as four or five television vans and half a dozen automobiles screamed to a stop off on the edge of the crowd and their occupants began to scramble frantically through the crowd with their gear—“our good friends from the media who are just arrivin’, a little late as usual”—there was a scornful hoot from the crowd—“may not give us much credit for law and order, down here in South Carolina. Whether they do or not,” he declared, his voice rising emphatically, “that is the sole point and purpose of Justice NOW!, that great movement to which many of you belong, and to which I hope many, many millions more soon will belong. We’re growin’, friends, we’re growin’! And they aren’t goin’ to be able to stop us, because all across this great land our strength is as the strength of millions, yea hundreds of millions of good, God-fearin’, law-abidin’, law-respectin’ citizens. And that’s why I’m up here right this minute talkin’ to you, and why our two great friends from the Supreme Court of the United States are goin’ to be speakin’ to you shortly, too. Because we, like you, respect and abide by the law; and what some few folks might have been contemplatin’ here before we arrived just doesn’t have any place in the law, or any place in a decent, God-fearin’ America or any place in this great state of South Carolina. We don’t need that! We’ve got our strength in Justice NOW! Justice NOW! wants law and order! Justice NOW! is law and order—a great, spontaneous outpourin’ of love and respect and obedience to the law! That’s what you want and I want and these whole great United States want. Isn’t that right, now, my friends? ISN’T THAT RIGHT?”
With a great shout the crowd responded “RIGHT!” Under its cover Regard dashed a hasty hand that Tay and Moss could see was trembling across a forehead that they could see was beaded with sweat. Tay’s respect continued to rise.
“Now,” Regard said, his voice becoming steadily more assured, “let me just warn you one thing about our friends from the media, here. Their whole job is to get you riled up again, you know. They can’t be content with folks just quietin’ down and behavin’ themselves, that doesn’t look good on the evenin’ news. They want wild-eyed people and wild-eyed statements, that’s what they live on. So I’d suggest, for the sake of Justice NOW! and for the sake of the dignity of the sovereign state of South Carolina which we all love, that y’all just refuse ’em any interviews out there when they stick their damned microphones and writin’ pads in your faces. You tell ’em to pack up and git! Right?”
“RIGHT!” the crowd shouted and there was much laughter and applause. They were with him one hundred percent now, and the famous commentator who audibly exclaimed, “Damned rabble-rousing son of a bitch!” was promptly shoved around and had to be rescued by nearby police.
“Now,” Regard said, gesturing scornfully over his shoulder toward the prisoner. “I’m goin’ to get this worthless piece of human junk back to jail where he belongs, so if you and your friends will assist me, Jenkins—I’m trustin’ you now, and bear in mind the world is watchin’ and we want to do things right, for all our sakes, so you help me out, now—I’m goin’ to untie his legs so he can walk, and then we’ll get him down the ladder. And then I want you and your friends to put him in the back seat of my car and stand guard over him until I get down there, at which time we’re goin’ to form us a little escort-party and get him back to jail in the style to which he’s accustomed. How about that?”
Again there was a wave of laughter, applause and approving shouts across the crowd; and Regard, though the sweat was starting again on his forehead and his hands were once more trembling slightly, turned and moved firmly and with absolute outward assurance toward the prisoner.
For a second Earle Holgren’s eyes glared, his head came back, his mouth began to pucker.
“You spit on me, you piece of shit,” Regard hissed, so low that only Earle and Tay and Moss, instinctively moving to help him, could hear, “and you’ll be torn limb from limb so fast you won’t have time to turn your head before it’s off. Now, stand still! Gentlemen, you keep an eye on him while I do this.”
“I can barely stand to look at him,” Moss murmured in a voice of such contempt that even Earle Holgren’s endless insolence appeared shattered for a second. Tay nodded.
“But we’ll help,” he said. And they moved closer to the prisoner while the crowd again became deathly still as Regard knelt down and swiftly untied the rope around his ankles.
“Stomp your feet,” he ordered in a low voice. “Get the circulation goin’. And hurry it up, because I don’t know how much longer we can keep these good folks from cookin’ your evil flesh for dinner… Now, move!” And he gave Earle Holgren a savage shove toward the ladder as the Justices stepped back and watched with expressions that justified Moss’ comment: they really could hardly bear to look at him.
Carefully, with Regard steadying his shoulders from above and Jenkins Terwilliger reaching up with conspicuous roughness to grasp his legs from below,
they eased the defendant down: and again, as he reached the ground and Jenkins and his friends stepped forward to surround him, the crowd became deathly still. In the stillness Regard said calmly through the bullhorn, “I’m trustin’ you boys. For Carolina and Justice NOW!, get him into that car and close the door on him. Fast.”
Once again they hesitated for a moment and the crowd, if possible, became quieter. But Regard continued to stare down at them with apparent complete assurance that he would be obeyed; and he was. Aside from a startled “What the hell!” from Jenkins when they saw Debbie sitting rigidly in the front seat, her eyes carefully turned away from them, there was no disruption or outcry. Before there could be Regard turned again to face the crowd.
“And now,” he said, his voice becoming hushed but still carrying clearly, “I’m goin’ to call on two famous men to speak to you very briefly for just a minute, because you know how sad things are for them and we don’t want to keep ’em here long. Justice Barbour—?”
“Yes,” Tay said, accepting the bullhorn as Regard thrust it into his hand and stepping forward a little, though at the moment he had no idea exactly what he would say. But it came naturally enough.
“First,” he said, “I want to pay tribute to a pretty remarkable fellow, I think, and that’s your attorney general.” There was a wild burst of applause and approval. “We’ve already disagreed on a lot of things, and quite possibly we’re going to disagree on a lot more before this case is finally disposed of by all the courts that may ultimately be involved. But he’s a brave man, that’s for sure, and I congratulate him fully on that.”
There was a roar of approval from the crowd.
“I want to congratulate you, also, for responding so wisely and effectively to his appeal for calm and reason. I think the three of us up here are agreed one hundred percent on one thing: the law is the issue, and the law must be preserved. You are doing this when you peaceably accept the fact and go peaceably about your business, confident that Mr. Stinnet fully shares your feelings and will faithfully follow them as his guide when the case resumes in court tomorrow.
