Final Justice

by Patricia Hagan

"Well, you can't. Now hush. The jury is coming in."

  Sara watched as they filed in, tight-lipped and somber. She hoped they would keep an open mind but felt a jury should have been brought in from another part of the state or the trial moved elsewhere. There had just been too much talk, and too many opinions formed about Emma Jean's guilt. But, of course, Burch hadn't asked for any changes.

  Next, Matt went to stand in front of the bench and face the room to announce, "All rise."

  Sara stood along with everyone else but was not listening to the court preamble Matt was reciting, intent on watching for Luke.

  Judge Barrett wore a long black robe over a white shirt and tie. Stern eyes peered over the round glasses perched on the end of his nose. What hair he had left was a silver halo around his bald spot. In his personal life, he was a loving husband, father, and grandfather. But when he was in his courtroom, he was known to be harsh and put up with no nonsense from spectators or counsel.

  He banged his gavel. "Be seated." He began to read from the docket before him. "The State of Alabama versus Emma Jean Veazey. Superior Court file number SC 1245. Will the defendant rise."

  A soft murmur went through the crowd as Emma Jean slowly, shakily, got to her feet.

  "You have been charged with the murder of Rudolph Morris Veazey on October 31st, 1969. How do you plead?"

  Sara held her breath, glancing towards the door again, then at Emma Jean. She could not hear what she said. Neither could anyone else. Judge Barrett asked her to speak up.

  "Guilty," came her feeble croak.

  Sara's horrified cry of "Dear God, no," went unheard amidst the relieved chorus ringing all around.

  Burch stood, making sure he was loud enough for everyone to hear. "Your honor, my client wishes to place herself at the mercy of this court. She declines to testify nor offer any evidence on her behalf. Further, she respectfully requests that the sentencing hearing commence at once."

  Burch sat down. Emma Jean already had, placing her head on the table, face to the wall. Sara again looked to the door, sick to the pit of her soul. Burch had manipulated Emma Jean into capitulation, and God help her if Luke didn't show.

  "How say the state?" Judge Barrett asked of Mel Parker.

  Mel stood. "The state requests that the jury hear the evidence against the defendant and then convene to recommend sentence."

  "Proceed."

  Mel gathered up some papers and went to stand at the railing next to the jury and began to read. "The state charges that on the night of October 31st, 1969, the defendant did willfully, and with malice aforethought, cause the death of her husband, Rudolph Morris Veazey, by stabbing him seven times with a butcher knife."

  Mel went back to his desk and picked up a knife with a white tag hanging from the handle. Holding it up for everyone to see, he then placed it on a table near the court reporter. "Please record this as state's evidence: the murder weapon."

  He turned back to the jury. "In addition to stabbing her husband, Emma Jean Veazey bit off a portion of his penis."

  A roar went through the crowd, and Rudy's parents again leaped up to shake their fists and scream out at Emma Jean.

  Judge Barrett viciously pounded his gavel. "Another outburst, and I will clear the courtroom."

  Like a giant hand sweeping, everyone fell silent.

  Mel cleared his throat and continued. "The state maintains that this brutal slaying was premeditated, and, under Alabama law, the death sentence is warranted and justified.

  He pointed a finger and swept the jury with a challenging gaze, "And I charge you to recommend that sentence, that you show no more mercy to this cold-blooded murderess than she showed to her husband the night she so ruthlessly killed him."

  Sara craned to see Emma Jean. She had not moved, head still resting on her folded arms, face to the wall. Mel returned to his desk and sat down. The Veazeys leaned over the railing to pat his shoulder for what they felt was a job well done. Alma was grinning all around. Burch was leaning back in his chair, staring off into space, pretending, Sara knew, to appear concerned.

  Judge Barrett told the jury they could recommend death or life in prison, with or without parole. Then he sent them out to begin deliberations and declared a recess until they finished. Matt put the handcuffs back on Emma Jean and led her out. Most people stayed in their seats, not about to give them up, confident it would not take the jury long to agree on a sentence of death.

  Sara knew it was all over. Luke's friends hadn't been able to find a way to get him there, and Emma Jean was doomed. She took one last look around, and that was when she saw Betsy Borden standing in a corner. Those around her had squeezed against each other to put as much room as possible between them and her because she smelled like fish, and other things, like garbage and chicken droppings from sleeping in roost houses.

  Betsy locked eyes with her, then quickly looked away. Was she feeling guilt, Sara wondered, to know that she might be able to save Emma Jean but refused to do so?

  Sara cut her gaze to Burch, despising him more with every breath she drew. As though feeling her wrath, he turned around to flash a triumphant smile. Childishly, crudely, she held up her middle finger.

  The minutes ticked by. Sara's stomach began to cramp. It was time for her period. All the stress was probably going to make her start early. She clenched and unclenched her fists, stared up at the ceiling, then at the floor, taking long, deep breaths to try and make her heart slow down, all the while wondering what had happened to Luke. Did he give up? No. He'd never do that. The people he was counting on had let him down. That's all it could be. She wished with all her might she hadn't left it to them and insisted on being a part of whatever plans were made to see they were carried out. By not doing so, she felt like she'd failed him, too.

  It seemed like hours but only twenty minutes had passed before Matt came to announce the jury had reached a decision. People scrambled to spread the word to those who'd ventured out, and suddenly everyone was rushing back to their seats.

  There was some pushing and shoving over seats having been taken, and Matt had to yell above the din and threaten to throw them out. Finally order was restored, and he went to notify the judge as the jury began filing in.

  Sara noted how smug they looked and had no doubt they had unanimously agreed Emma Jean should die. She tried to console herself with the hope that perhaps Luke could do something later. She didn't know about the law, but she'd seen movies where people convicted of murder were later freed because it was proved they were innocent. Still, he hadn't actually seen Rudy beat her. And he wasn't there that night. His testimony might not help at all.

  Excitement was like electricity popping through the crowd as Judge Barrett returned, and Matt again declared, "All rise," then repeated his speech about court being in session.

  Everyone sat back down. Matt led Emma Jean in. She stared at her feet the whole time, and once she was in her chair squeezed her eyes shut.

  Judge Barrett asked the jury for their decision, and Sara felt like every nerve in her body was raw and screaming as Marvin Donhenner got up and said he'd been elected foreman, and, yes, they'd made up their minds.

  "We think she should get the death sentence."

  Cheers and applause broke out, and Judge Barrett again banged his gavel for quiet but no one paid any attention.

  Bertha Veazey leaped up and threw her arms over her head as she prayed out loud giving thanks. Wilbur was rocking back and forth in his seat and snapping his fingers in time to a joyful rhythm only he could hear. Alma was bouncing around, shaking hands and hugging everyone close to her. Emma Jean showed no emotion, continuing to sit with eyes closed.

  Burch, Sara noted, was putting on a good show of acting like he was upset and disappointed, shaking his head as he patted Emma Jean's shoulder like he was trying to console her. Finally, after Judge Barrett's desk creaked beneath the gavel's pounding as though about to break, things quieted down.

  "The defendant will rise," he said, looking lik
e he couldn't wait to get it over with and have everyone get the hell out. Emma Jean did not move. Burch rose and gently pulled her with him. Sara thought she was going to collapse, but he kept his arm around her. She did not open her eyes.

  "Emma Jean Veazey," Judge Barrett intoned, "you have pleaded guilty to murder in the first degree, and a jury of your peers has recommended that you be sentenced to death for your crime. It is therefore the decision of this court to concur with that recommendation. You are hereby sentenced to die by electrocution on the 31st day of December...

  "And may God have mercy on your soul," he quietly concluded.

  "Happy New Year, bitch," Bertha sang out.

  The Veazey clan broke into raucous laughter, and Judge Barrett banged the gavel over and over. "Oh, to hell with it," he finally yelled over the din. "Court adjourned."

  Suddenly a voice louder than any other heard that day rang out. "Not yet it isn't! Not by a long shot."

  Everyone turned to stare at Luke, who was sitting in a wheelchair. There were three men with him, all wearing white shirts, ties, and suits... and all tight-lipped and grim-faced.

  He was in the aisle right beside Sara, and, with a squeal, she lunged to throw her arms around his neck. "Thank God. I didn't think you'd be here."

  Hugging her briefly, he gently pushed her back. "I'd have crawled if I had to."

  He was dressed like the men with him, only his clothes were way too big. The clothes belonged to Woody McElrath who was larger. Still, Luke was neat and clean-shaven, though his face was gaunt and mirrored the strain of the moment as well as the past weeks of illness.

  Alma, red-faced and furious, pushed past those in her way to get into the aisle. Luke, seeing her, pointed a finger in warning. "Sit down and shut up. You and I will talk later."

  She looked at the men with him. "How dare you bring him here? He has no business being out of the hospital."

  "Leave him be," Bertha Veazey said, on her feet like everyone else. "He came to see justice done. The hussy shot him, remember?"

  Luke gripped the arms of his chair and tried to stand but couldn't make it. "That's a damn lie. And besides that, when she killed Rudy she did it in self-defense."

  Emma Jean, having snapped out of her daze, had slowly risen to her feet to cry in wonder, "Luke... oh, Luke... praise God..."

  She started toward him, but Matt, looking like he wished he didn't have to, held her back.

  "Let her go, Matt," Luke shouted.

  Matt shook his head. "You know I can't..."

  "Luke, have you lost your mind?" Alma shrieked.

  Wilbur Veazey bellowed, "She killed my boy in cold blood, and she's gonna die for it. She's already been sentenced, and there ain't a thing you can do about it."

  Luke looked to Sara for explanation.

  "It's all over," she hated to tell him. "She pleaded guilty, and the jury asked for the death sentence."

  "No. Hell, no," he roared, trying once more to rise, his fury propelling him, but Woody put a firm hand on his shoulder.

  "Let Jim handle it. They aren't going to listen to you."

  Judge Barrett, so mad the veins in his neck were standing out and throbbing, slammed the gavel down, and, surprisingly, this time, it worked. Everyone got quiet. Pointing the gavel at Luke, he asked, "Now what's the meaning of this, Sheriff? And you'd better have a good explanation."

  One of the men standing behind Luke walked down the aisle to stand before the judge and introduce himself. "My name is Jim Burkhalter. I'm an attorney in Mobile." He motioned for the other man who had followed him to step forward, "This gentleman is Stewart Delaney. He is the President of the Alabama Bar Association."

  "I know who he is," Judge Barrett said with a curt nod to Stewart. "We went to law school together. Suppose you tell me what this is about, Stewart."

  Burch, cheeks beet red, angrily protested, "This case is closed. Court's been adjourned. This is out of order."

  Judge Barrett glared. "And since when do you tell me how to run my courtroom, Burch? Sit down, shut up, and let the man speak."

  Burch whined, dread creeping, "At least wait till everyone leaves."

  "They can go whenever they want to." He gave another nod to Stewart. "Continue."

  Not a soul in the room budged. They wouldn't have left for the world, sensing something exciting was taking place.

  Before Stewart could begin, Luke, having been rolled to the front by Woody, interjected, "Wait a minute, Judge. I want to ask Emma Jean one question."

  Judge Barrett sighed. "Oh, go ahead, but be quick about it. I want to get this over with... whatever it is."

  Luke turned to her, his heart wrenching. "Did you plead not guilty today because that's what you wanted?"

  She shot a hating look at Burch. "No. He told me to do it. He said I'd get the death penalty for sure if I didn't. I told him I only killed Rudy 'cause I couldn't take him beating me anymore, but he said the jury would never believe me."

  Luke started to say something else, but Stewart leaped in to ask Emma Jean for clarification. "Are you saying, Mrs. Veazey, that you informed your attorney you wished to plead not guilty, and he advised you against it?"

  "Yes, and when I told him Luke could testify how Rudy beat me lots of times before, he said no, he couldn't, because his brain was damaged, and he was like an idiot. I just gave up then and let him do what he wanted, 'cause if Luke was like that I didn't care what happened to me, anyhow."

  Covering her face with her hands, she began to cry brokenly. Now she had really let the cat out of the bag and only hoped Luke wasn't mad because everybody would know they'd been lovers. But he must not have cared, she reasoned, or he wouldn't have come. She stopped crying and rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand and lifted her chin to let everybody know she wasn't ashamed of anything, anymore... not with Luke there.

  Mel Parker, holding a pencil, snapped it in two as he wheeled his chair about to face Burch. "Is what she says true? Did you deny your client the right to plead not guilty and tell her those lies?"

  "She is guilty," Burch mumbled. His hand went to his chest. His head pitched slightly forward, face twisted in pain but no one paid any attention.

  Stewart Delaney placed his briefcase on Mel Parker's desk, opened it, and took out a folder and handed it to the judge. "We had this drawn up and signed by the Attorney General in Montgomery early this morning. It's a writ removing Burch Cleghorn as counsel for the defense, replacing him with Stewart Delaney. You should also know that charges are being brought against Mr. Cleghorn by the Alabama Bar for malpractice."

  Burch, head still bowed, did not move, made no sound.

  Judge Barrett read the writ, then said, "Well, based on this, I'm tempted to declare a mistrial, even though court has been adjourned. I'm just not sure what to do about this." He scratched his head thoughtfully. "I should also point out that unless the sheriff actually witnessed Rudy Veazey beating his wife, his testimony will be useless."

  He started to rise. "Gentlemen, I think we'd better discuss this in my chambers."

  Suddenly, from the back of the room, came an indignant cry. "Wait just a dad-burned minute, judge."

  Once more, heads turned and necks craned to see what was happening.

  "I saw him beat her, and I can testify, by cracky," Betsy Borden announced proudly as she marched up the aisle. "I won't gonna say nothin', but I can't sit back and let you all fry her for somethin' she couldn't help."

  Like everyone else in Buford County, Judge Barrett knew Betsy. Spinning completely around in his chair, he threw up his hands and cried, "This has turned into a circus."

  Betsy walked right up to the witness box beside his high bench, sat down, crossed her legs, looked out on the sea of startled faces and corrected, "Naw, it ain't no circus, Judge. It's bullshit, that's what it is. Emma Jean killed her old man in self-defense. I know 'cause I was there that night, sleepin' in her roost house, and I seen and heard the whole thing."

  Wilbur Veazey stood to shake his fi
st in protest. "She's crazy. Everybody knows that. And you're crazy to let her babble on."

  "And you're crazy," Judge Barrett said, scowling, "if you think I'm going to put up with your outburst. Now either sit down and shut up or get out of my courtroom."

  Wilbur sat, but if looks could kill, Betsy would have dropped dead then and there.

  "Go on, Betsy," the judge prodded. "Let's hear what you got to say. You probably won't shut up till we do."

  Jim Burkhalter asked, "What about the Writ, your honor?"

  "Yes," Stewart Delaney chimed in, pointing at Burch. "I came all the way to make sure that he is removed as counsel for the defense."

  "Oh, don't worry about that," Judge Barrett said with an airy wave. "It's done. I just want to hear what Betsy's got to say." He looked to Mel Parker. "What about the prosecution? Are you willing to listen?"

  Mel looked doubtful but murmured consent.

  Unnoticed, Alma had made her way to Luke's side and knelt by the wheelchair to whisper, "I'll never forgive you for this, Luke. You're humiliating me and our marriage in front of the whole town."

  "We never had a marriage, and you know it. Now get away from me."

  She retreated, stunned. Then, noticing how people were looking at her and snickering, she ran from the courtroom. Outside, she leaned against one of the tall columns at the top of the marble stairs, bosom heaving as she tried to swallow the anger rising from the pit of her stomach. It was over. Luke would find a way to save Emma Jean, and then he would want a divorce so he could marry her. But Alma would take revenge in the worst way possible. She'd tell him Tammy wasn't his, and she'd laugh at him for being fool enough to think she was all these years. That would fix him good, and... No, she could never do that. Not only would it break Tammy's heart, but she'd be ruined forever more. She had to go on living in this town, had to be able to hold her head up. After all, people would feel sorry for her over her husband running off with another woman. So Alma would just keep her mouth shut. Besides, she could make him pay child support.

  She thought about the new maintenance engineer that had hired on at the plant. He was from Montgomery, not half bad-looking, and he'd just gotten his divorce. She didn't think it was her imagination he'd been giving her the eye. She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly, and, with it, came the rage. To hell with Luke. She'd never given a damn about him, anyway.