A Time to Kill

"Willie who?"

"Willie Hoyt."

Jake thought for a second and tried to recall the indictment. "That’s not the man you stabbed."

"Naw, he’s Curtis Sprawling."

"You mean, y’all were fighting over another man’s woman?"

"That’s right."

"Where was Willie?"

"He was fightin’ too."

"Who was he fighting?"

"Some other dude."

"You mean the four of you were fighting over Willie’s woman?"

"Yeah, you got it."

"What caused the fight?"

"Her husband was outta town."

"She’s married?"

"That’s right."

"What’s her husband’s name?"

"Johnny Sands. When he’s outta town, there’s normally a fight."

"Why is that?"

‘"Cause she ain’t got no kids, can’t have any, and she likes to have company. Know what I mean? When he leaves, everybody knows it. If she shows up at a tonk, look out for a fight."

What a trial, thought Jake. "But I thought you said she showed up with Willie Hoyt?"

"That’s right. But that don’t mean nothin’ because everybody at the tonk starts easin’ up on her, buyin’ drinks, wantin’ to dance. You can’t help it."

"Some woman, huh?"

"Oh, Mr. Jake, she looks so good. You oughtta see her."

"I will. On the witness stand."

Leroy gazed at the wall, smiling, dreaming, lusting after the wife of Johnny Sands. Never mind that he stabbed a man and could get twenty years. He had proven, in hand-to-hand combat, that he was worthy.

"Listen, Leroy, you haven’t talked to Carl Lee, have you?"

"Sure. I’m still in his cell. We talk all the time. Ain’t much else to do."

"You haven’t told him what we discussed yesterday?"

"Oh no. I told you I wouldn’t."

"Good."

"But I’ll tell you this, Mr. Jake, he’s some kinda worried. He ain’t heard from his new lawyer. He’s bad upset. I had to bite my tongue to keep from tellin’ him, but I didn’t. I did tell him you were my lawyer."

"That’s okay."

"He said you was good ’bout comin’ by the jail and talkin’ ’bout the case and all. He said I hired a good lawyer."

"Not good enough for him, though."

"I think Carl Lee’s confused. He ain’t sure who to trust or anything. He’s a good dude."

"Well, don’t be telling him what we discussed, right? It’s confidential."

"Right. But somebody needs to."

"He didn’t consult with me or anyone else before he fired me and hired his new lawyer. He’s a grown man. He made the decision. It’s his baby." Jake paused and moved closer to Leroy. He lowered his voice. "And I’ll tell you something else, but you can’t tell it. I checked his court file thirty minutes ago. His new lawyer hasn’t touched the case all week. Not one thing has been filed. Nothing."

Leroy frowned and shook his head. "Man oh man."

His lawyer continued. "These big shots operate like that. Talk a lot, blow a lot of smoke, fly by the seat of their pants. Take more cases than they can handle, and end up losing more than they win. I know them. I watch them all the time. Most are overrated."

"Is that why he ain’t been to see Carl Lee?"

"Sure. He’s too busy. Plus he’s got plenty of other big cases. He don’t care about Carl Lee."

"That’s bad. Carl Lee deserves better."

"It was his choice. He’ll have to live with it."

"You think he’ll be convicted, Mr. Jake?"

"No doubt about it. He’s looking at the gas chamber.

He’s hired a bogus big-shot lawyer who doesn’t have time to

work on his case, doesn’t even have the time to talk to him

in jail."

"Are you sayin’ you could get him off?"

Jake relaxed and crossed his legs. "No, I never make

that promise, and I won’t make it for your trial. A lawyer is

stupid if he promises an acquittal. Too many things can go

wrong at trial."

"Carl Lee said his lawyer promised a not guilty in the

newspaper."

"He’s a fool."

"Where you been?" Carl Lee asked his cellmate as the jailer locked the door.

"Talkin’ to my lawyer."

"Jake?"

"Yeah."

Leroy sat on his bunk directly across the cell from Carl Lee, who was rereading a newspaper. He folded the paper and laid it under his bunk.

"You look worried," Carl Lee said. "Bad news about your case?"

"Naw. Just can’t make my bail. Jake says it’ll be a few days."

"Jake talk about me?"

"Naw. Not much."

"Not much? What’d he say?"

"Just ask how you was."

"That all?"

"Yeah."

"He’s not mad at me?"

"Naw. He might be worried about you, but I don’t think he’s mad."

"Why’s he worried about me?"

"I don’t know," Leroy answered as he stretched out on his bunk, folding his hands behind his head.

"Come on, Leroy. You know somethin’ you ain’t tellin’. What’d Jake say about me?"

"Jake said I can’t tell you what we talk about. He says it’s confidential. You wouldn’t want your lawyer repeatin’ what y’all talk about, would you?"

"I ain’t seen my lawyer."

"You had a good lawyer till you fired him."

"I gotta good one now."

– "How do you know? You ain’t ever met him. He’s too busy to come talk to you, and if he’s that busy, he ain’t got time to work on your case."

"How do you know about him?"

"I asked Jake."

"Yeah. What’d he say?"

Leroy was silent.

"I wanna know what he said," demanded Carl Lee as he sat on the edge of Leroy’s bunk. He glared at his smaller, weaker cellmate. Leroy decided he was frightened and now had a good excuse to tell Carl Lee. Either talk or get slapped.

"He’s a crook," Leroy said. "He’s a big-shot crook who’ll sell you out. He don’t care about you or your case. He just wants the publicity. He hasn’t touched your case all week. Jake knows, he checked in the courthouse this afternoon. Not a sign of Mr. Big Shot. He’s too busy to leave Memphis and check on you. He’s got too many other crooked clients in Memphis, includin’ your friend Mr. Bruster."

"You’re crazy, Leroy."

"Okay, I’m crazy. Wait and see who pleads insaneness. Wait and see how hard he works on your case."

"What makes you such an expert?"

"You asked me and I’m tellin’ you."

Carl Lee walked to the door and grabbed the bars, gripping them tightly with his huge hands. The cell had shrunk in three weeks, and the smaller it became the harder it was for him to think, to reason, to plan, to react. He could not concentrate in jail. He knew only what was told to him and had no one to trust. Gwen was irrational. Ozzie was noncommittal. Lester was in Chicago. There was no other person he trusted except Jake, and for some reason he had found a

new lawyer. Money, that was the reason. Nineteen hundred dollars cash, paid by the biggest pimp and dope dealer in Memphis, whose lawyer specialized in defending pimps and dope dealers, and all kinds of cutthroats and hoodlums. Did Marsharfsky represent decent people? What would the jury think when they watched Carl Lee sit at the defense table next to Marsharfsky? He was guilty, of course. Why else would he hire a famous, big-city crook like Marsharfsky?