“Which hotel?”
“Maybe the Hilton. Not sure.”
“Who’d the Braves play?”
“Well, let’s see. I can’t be sure, but I know we saw them play the Phillies one year.”
“In eighty-six, who played third base for the Phillies?”
Herschel swallowed hard and looked straight ahead, as if staring at headlights. His elbows were twitching and he kept glancing at the jurors. His lying had caught up with him. Lanier’s fictional masterpiece had holes in it.
Finally, “Don’t know.”
“You don’t recall Mike Schmidt, the greatest third baseman in the game. He’s still there and on his way to the Hall of Fame.”
“Sorry, no.”
“Who played center field for the Braves?”
Another painful pause. It was obvious Herschel didn’t have a clue.
“Ever hear of Dale Murphy?”
“Sure, that’s him. Dale Murphy.”
For the moment, Herschel gave every indication of being a liar, or at least a great embellisher. Jake could poke and prod around the rest of his testimony, but there was no guarantee he could score again. Instinctively, he decided to sit down.
Ramona was next, and she was crying not long after she was sworn in. She still couldn’t believe her beloved “daddy” had been so lost and distraught that he took his own life. With time, though, Lanier settled her down and they plowed through their scripted testimony. She had always been Daddy’s girl and she just couldn’t get enough of the old guy. He adored her and her children and came to visit them often down in Jackson.
Once again, Jake grudgingly admired Wade Lanier. He had prepared Ramona well for her deposition back in December and taught her the art of sandbagging. He knew that at trial there was no way Jake could rebut her testimony, so offer a few crumbs during the deposition, just enough to vaguely answer the questions, then load up the fiction for the jury.
Her testimony was a dramatic blend of emotion, bad acting, lying, and exaggerating. Jake began stealing glances at the jury to see if anyone was suspicious. As she bawled again, Tracy McMillen, number two, met Jake’s look and frowned as if to say, “Can you believe this?”
At least that was Jake’s reading. He could be wrong. His instincts had been rattled and he didn’t fully trust them. Tracy was his favorite juror. Their eyes had been meeting for two days now, and things had been elevated almost to the point of flirting. It wasn’t the first time Jake had used his good looks to win over a juror, nor would it be the last. Another glance over and he caught Frank Doley shooting one of his patented “I can’t wait to burn you” looks.
Wade Lanier wasn’t perfect. He kept her on direct far too long and began to lose people. Her voice was grating and her crying was a tired old act. Those watching suffered along with her, and when Lanier finally said, “I tender the witness,” Judge Atlee quickly tapped the gavel and said, “Let’s recess for fifteen minutes.”
The jurors left and the courtroom cleared out. Jake stayed at his table, as did Lettie. It was time to acknowledge each other. Portia moved her chair closer so the three of them could speak softly in a small huddle. Lettie began with “Jake, I’m so sorry. What have I done?” Her eyes were instantly wet.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Lettie? If I had known about the Pickerings, I could have been prepared.”
“It didn’t happen that way at all, Jake. I swear I never discussed no will with Miss Irene. Never. Not before she wrote it, not after. I didn’t even know about it until I came to work that mornin’ and all hell broke loose. I swear, Jake. You gotta let me explain this to the jury. I can do it. I can make them believe me.”
“It’s not that simple. We’ll talk about it later.”
“We need to talk, Jake. Herschel and Ramona are lyin’ through their teeth. Can’t you make ’em stop?”
“I don’t think the jury is buying much of this.”
Portia said, “They don’t like Ramona.”
“I can understand that. I need to run to the restroom. Any word from Lucien?”
“No, I checked the phone messages during lunch. Some lawyers, some reporters, and one death threat.”
“A what?”
“Some dude said they gonna burn your house again if you win all that money for them niggers.”
“How nice. I sort of like it. It brings back fond memories of the Hailey trial.”
“I saved it. You want me to tell Ozzie?”
“Sure.”
Harry Rex caught Jake outside the restroom and said, “Spoke with Chilcott. No deal. No interest in talking settlement. In fact, he almost laughed in my face, said they have another surprise or two.”
“What?” Jake asked in a panic.
“Well, of course he wouldn’t tell me. That would ruin the ambush, right?”
“I can’t take another ambush, Harry Rex.”
“Just keep your cool. You’re doing fine. I don’t think Herschel and Ramona impressed too many jurors.”
“Should I go after her?”
“No. Take it easy. If you pin her down, she’ll just start crying again. The jury’s sick of her.”
Five minutes later, Jake walked to the podium and said, “Now, Mrs. Dafoe, your father died on October 2 of last year, correct?”
“Yes.”
“Before he died, when was the last time you saw him?”
“I didn’t keep notes, Mr. Brigance. He was my daddy.”
“Isn’t it true that you last saw him in late July, over two months before he died?”
“No, that’s not true at all. I saw him all the time.”
“The last time, Mrs. Dafoe. When was the last time?”
“Again, I didn’t keep up with the dates. Probably a couple of weeks before he died.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Well, no, I’m not positive. Do you make a note every time you visit your parents?”
“I’m not the witness, Mrs. Dafoe. I’m the lawyer who’s asking the questions. Are you sure you saw your father a couple of weeks before he died?”
“Well, uh, I can’t be positive.”
“Thank you. Now, what about the children, Will and Leigh Ann? When was the last time they saw their grandfather before he died?”
“Oh, heavens, Mr. Brigance. I have no idea.”
“But you testified they saw him all the time, right?”
“Of course, yes. They loved their granddaddy.”
“Did he love them?”
“He adored them.”
Jake smiled and walked to the small table where the exhibits were kept. He picked up two sheets of paper and looked at Ramona. “This is the will your father wrote the day before he died. It’s in evidence and the jury has already seen it. In paragraph six, your father writes, and I quote: ‘I have two children-Herschel Hubbard and Ramona Hubbard Dafoe-and they have children, though I don’t know how many because I haven’t seen them in some time.’ End quote.”
Jake placed the will back on the table and asked, “By the way, how old is Will?”
“Fourteen.”
“And how old is Leigh Ann?”
“Twelve.”
“So it’s been twelve years since you had a child?”
“Yes, that’s very true.”
“And your own father didn’t know if you’d had any more kids?”
