A Time to Kill

"He was sittin’ on the stairs directly opposite the stairs where they got shot."

"And he saw it all?"

"Said he did."

"Has he identified the gunman?"

"Yes, we showed him photos of ten male blacks, and he identified the defendant, sittin’ over there."

"Good. Thank you. Your Honor, we have nothing further."

"Any questions, Mr. Brigance?" asked the judge.

"No, sir," Jake said as he stood.

"Any witnesses?"

"No, sir."

"Any requests, motions, anything?"

"No, sir."

Jake knew better than to request bail. First, it would do no good. Bullard would not set bail for capital murder. Second, it would make the judge look bad.

"Thank you, Mr. Brigance. The court finds sufficient evidence exists to hold this defendant for action by the Ford County grand jury. Mr. Hailey shall remain in the custody of the sheriff, without bond. Court’s adjourned."

Carl Lee was quickly handcuffed and escorted from the courtroom. The area around the rear door downstairs was sealed and guarded. The cameras outside caught a glimpse of the defendant between the door and the waiting patrol car. He was in jail before the spectators cleared the courtroom.

The deputies directed the whites on one side to leave first, followed by the blacks.

The reporters requested some of Jake’s time, and they were instructed to meet him in the rotunda in a few minutes. He made them wait by first going to chambers and giving his regards to the judge. Then he walked to the third floor to check on a book. When the courtroom was empty and they had waited long enough, he walked through the rear door, into the rotunda and faced the cameras.

A microphone with red letters on it was thrust into his face. "Why didn’t you request bond?" a reporter demanded.

"That comes later."

"Will Mr. Hailey plead an insanity defense?"

"As I’ve stated, it’s too early to answer that question. We must now wait for the grand jury-he may not be indicted. If he is, we’ll start planning his defense."

"Mr. Buckley, the D.A., has stated he expects easy convictions. Any comment?"

"I’m afraid Mr. Buckley often speaks when he shouldn’t. It’s asinine for him to make any comment on this case until it is considered by the grand jury."

"He also said he would vigorously oppose any request for a change of venue."

"That request hasn’t been made yet. He really doesn’t care where the trial is held. He’d try it in the desert as long as the press showed up."

"Can we assume there are hard feelings between you and the D.A.?"

"If you want to. He’s a good prosecutor and a worthy adversary. He just talks when he shouldn’t."

He answered a few other assorted questions and excused himself.

Late Wednesday night the doctors cut below Looney’s knee and removed the lower third of his leg. They called Ozzie at the jail, and he told Carl Lee.

Rufus Buckley scanned the Thursday morning papers and read with great interest the accounts of the preliminary hearing in Ford County. He was delighted to see his name mentioned by the reporters and by Mr. Brigance. The disparaging remarks were greatly outweighed by the fact that his name was in print. He didn’t like Brigance, but he was glad Jake mentioned his name before the cameras and reporters. For two days the spotlight had been on Brigance and the defendant; it was about time the D.A. was mentioned. Brigance should not criticize anyone for seeking publicity. Lucien Wilbanks wrote the book on manipulating the press both before and during a trial, and he had taught Jake well. But Buckley held no grudge. He was pleased. He relished the thought of a long, nasty trial with his first opportunity at real, meaningful exposure. He looked forward to Monday, the first day of the May term of court in Ford County.

He was forty-one, and when he was first elected nine years earlier he had been the youngest D.A. in Mississippi. Now he was one year into his third term and his ambitions were calling. It was time to move on to another public office, say, attorney general, or possibly governor. And then to Congress. He had it all planned, but he was not well known outside the Twenty-second Judicial District (Ford, Tyler, Polk, Van Buren, and Milburn counties). He needed to be seen, and heard. He needed publicity. What Rufus needed more than anything else was a big, nasty, controversial, well-publicized conviction in a murder trial.

Ford County was directly north of Smithfield, the county seat of Polk County, where Rufus lived. He had grown up in Tyler County, near the Tennessee line, north of Ford County. He had a good base, politically. He was a good prosecutor. During elections he boasted of a ninety percent conviction rate, and of sending more men to death row than any prosecutor in the state. He was loud, abrasive, sanctimonious. His client was the people of the State of Mississippi, by God, and he took that obligation seriously. The people hated crime, and he hated crime, and together they could eliminate it.

He could talk to a jury; oh, how he could talk to a jury. He could preach, pray, sway, plead, beg. He could inflame a jury to the point it couldn’t wait to get back to that jury room and have a prayer meeting, then vote and return with a rope to hang the defendant. He could talk like the blacks and he could talk like the rednecks, and that was enough to satisfy most of the jurors in the Twenty-second. And the juries were good to him in Ford County. He liked Clanton.

When he arrived at his office in the Polk County Courthouse, Rufus was delighted to see a camera crew waiting in his reception room. He was very busy, he explained, looking at his watch, but he might have a minute for a few questions.

He arranged them in his office and sat splendidly in his leather swivel behind the desk. The reporter was from Jackson.

"Mr. Buckley, do you have any sympathy for Mr. Hai-ley?"

He smiled seriously, obviously in deep thought. "Yes, I do. I have sympathy for any parent whose child is raped. I certainly do. But what I cannot condone, and what our system cannot tolerate, is this type of vigilante justice."

"Are you a parent?"

"I am. I have one small son and two daughters, one the age of the Hailey girl, and I’d be outraged if one of my daughters were raped. But I would hope our judicial system would deal effectively with the ra**st. I have that much confidence in the system."

"So you anticipate a conviction?"

"Certainly. I normally get a conviction when I go after one, and I intend to get a conviction in this case."

"Will you ask for the death penalty?"

"Yes, it looks like a clear case of premeditated murder. I think the gas chamber would be appropriate."

"Do you predict a death penalty verdict?"

"Of course. Ford County jurors have always been willing to apply the death penalty when I ask for it and it’s appropriate. I get very good juries up there."

"Mr. Brigance, the defendant’s attorney, has stated the grand jury may not indict his client."

BucMey chuckled at this. "Well, Mr. Brigance should not be so foolish. The case will be presented to the grand jury Monday, and we’ll have our indictments Monday afternoon. I promise you that. Really, he knows better." "You think the case will be tried in Ford County?" "I don’t care where it’s tried. I’ll get a conviction." "Do you anticipate the insanity defense?" "I anticipate everything. Mr. Brigance is a most capable criminal defense attorney. I don’t know what ploy he will use, but the State of Mississippi will be ready." "What about a plea bargain?’*