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A Time to Kill

"Black," said Lucien.

"Black as old Coaly’s ass," said Harry Rex.

"I agree," said Jake. "But we won’t get a chance. Buck-ley will save his peremptory challenges for the blacks. We know that. We’ve got to concentrate on white people."

"Women," said Lucien. "Always pick women for crimi-

nal trials. They have bigger hearts, bleeding hearts, and they’re much more sympathetic. Always go for women."

"Naw," said Harry Rex. "Not in this case. Women don’t understand things like taking a gun and blowing people away. You need fathers, young fathers who would want to do the same thing Hailey did. Daddies with little girls."

"Since when did you get to be such an expert on picking juries?" asked Lucien. "I thought you were a sleazy divorce lawyer."

"I am a sleazy divorce lawyer, but I know how to pick juries."

"And listen to them through the wall."

"Cheap shot."

Jake raised his arms. "Fellas, please. How about Victor Onzell? You know him, Stan?"

"Yeah, he banks with us. He’s about forty, married, three or four kids. White. From somewhere up North. Runs the truck stop on the highway north of town. He’s been here about five years."

Chapter Twenty-One

"I wouldn’t take him," Lucien said. "If he’s from up North, he doesn’t think like we do. Probably in favor of gun control and all that crap. Yankees always scare me in criminal cases. I’ve always thought we should have a law in Mississippi that no certified yankee could sit on a jury down here regardless of how long he’s lived here."

"Thank you so much," said Jake.

"I’d take him," said Harry Rex.

"Why?"

"He’s got kids, probably a daughter. If he’s from the North he’s probably not as prejudiced. Sounds good to me."

"John Tate Aston."

"He’s dead," said Lucien.

"What?"

"I said he’s dead. Been dead for three years."

"Why’s he on the list?" asked Atcavage, the non-lawyer.

"They don’t purge the voter registration list," explained Harry Rex, between drinks. "Some die and some move away, and it’s impossible to keep the list up to date. They’ve issued a hundred and fifty summons, and you can expect a hundred to a hundred and twenty to show up. The rest have died or moved away."

"Caroline Baxter. Ozzie says she’s black," Jake said flipping through his notes. "Works at the carburetor plant in Karaway."

"Take her," said Lucien.

"I wish," said Jake.

Ellen returned with the beer. She dropped it in Lucien’s lap and -tore a sixteen-ounce can out of a six-pack. She popped the top and returned to the rolltop desk. Jake declined, but Atcavage decided he was thirsty. Jake remained the non-drinker.

"Jpe Kitt Shepherd."

"Sounds like a redneck," said Lucien.

"Why do you say that?" asked Harry Rex.

"The double first name," Lucien explained. "Most rednecks have double first names. Like Billy Ray, Johnny Ray, Bobby Lee, Harry Lee, Jesse Earl, Billy Wayne, Jerry Wayne, Eddie Mack. Even their women have double first names. Bobbie Sue, Betty Pearl, Mary Belle, Thelma Lou, Sally Faye."

"What about Harry Rex?" asked Harry Rex.

"Never heard of a woman named Harry Rex."

"I mean for a male redneck."

"I guess it’ll do."

Jake interrupted. "Dell Perry said he used to own a bait shop down by the lake. I take it no one knows him."

"No, but I bet he’s a redneck," said Lucien. "Because of .his name. I’d scratch him."

"Aren’t you given their addresses, ages, occupations, basic information like that?" asked Atcavage.

"Not until the day of trial. On Monday each prospective juror fills out a questionnaire in the courtroom. But until then we have only the names."

"What kind of juror are we looking for, Jake?" Ellen asked.

"Young to middle-aged men with families. I would prefer to have no one over fifty."

"Why?" Lucien asked belligerently.

"Younger whites are more tolerant of blacks."

"Like Cobb and Willard," Lucien said.

"Most of the older folks will always dislike blacks, but

the younger generation has accepted an integrated society. Less bigotry, as a rule, with youth."

"I agree," said Harry Rex, "and I would stay away from women and rednecks."

"That’s my plan."

"I think you’re wrong," said Lucien. "Women are more sympathetic. Just look at Row Ark. She’s sympathetic toward everyone. Right, Row Ark?"

"Right, Lucien."

"She has sympathy for criminals, child  p**n ographers, atheists, illegal immigrants, g*ys. Don’t you, Row Ark?"

"Right, Lucien."

"She and I hold the only two ACLU cards existing at this very moment in Ford County, Mississippi."

"That’s sick," said Atcavage, the banker.

"Clyde Sisco," Jake said loudly, trying to minimize controversy.

"He can be bought," Lucien said smugly.

"What do you mean ‘He can be bought’?" Jake asked.

"Just what I said. He can be bought."

"How do you know?" asked Harry Rex.

"Are you kidding? He’s a Sisco. Biggest bunch of crooks in the eastern part of the county. They all live around the Mays community. They’re professional thieves and insurance defrauders. They burn their houses every three years. You’ve never heard of them?" He was shouting at Harry Rex.

"No. How do you know he can be bought?"

"Because I bought him once. In a civil case, ten years ago. He was on the jury list, and I got word to him that I’d give him ten percent of the jury verdict. He’s very persuasive."

Jake dropped the jury lists and rubbed his eyes. He knew this was probably true, but didn’t want to believe it.

"And?" asked Harry Rex.

"And he was selected for the jury, and I got the largest verdict in the history of Ford County. It’s still the record."

"Stubblefield?" Jake asked in disbelief.

"That’s it, my boy. Stubblefield versus North Texas Pipeline. September 1974. Eight hundred thousand dollars. Appealed and affirmed by the Supreme Court."

"Did you pay him?" asked Harry Rex.

Lucien finished a long drink and smacked his lips. "Eighty thousand cash, in one-hundred-dollar bills," he said proudly. "He built a new house, then burned it down."

"What was your cut?" asked Atcavage.

"Forty percent, minus eighty thousand."

The room was silent as everybody but Lucien made the calculation.

"Wow," Atcavage mumbled.

"You’re kidding, aren’t you, Lucien?" Jake asked halfheartedly.

"You know I’m serious, Jake. You know I lie compulsively, but never about things like this. I’m telling the truth, and I’m telling you this guy can be bought."

"How much?" asked Harry Rex.

"Forget it!" said Jake.

"Five thousand cash, just guessing."

"Forget it!"

There was a pause as each one looked at Jake to make sure he was not interested in Clyde Sisco, and when it was obvious he was not interested, they took a drink and waited for the next name. Around ten-thirty Jake had his first beer, and an hour later the case was gone and forty names remained. Lucien staggered to the balcony and watched the blacks carry their candles along the sidewalks next to the streets around the courthouse.

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