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The Partner Page 75
Author: John Grisham

The story ran uninterrupted for ten minutes.

"Why are you smiling?" Karl asked.

"It's a wonderful day. I just hope they have the guts to nail the Senator."

"I hear the feds have dropped everything against you."

"That's correct. I testified before the grand jury yesterday. It was great fun, Karl, finally unloading all this baggage I've been keeping secret for years."

Patrick had stopped eating during the news story, and was suddenly bored with food. According to Karl's observations, he had eaten two crab claws and hardly touched the gumbo. "Eat. You look like a skeleton."

Patrick took a saltine and walked to the window.

"So let me get this straight," Karl said. "The divorce is settled. The feds have dropped all charges and you've agreed to pay back the ninety million, plus a little interest."

"Total of a hundred and thirteen."

"The capital murder is about to collapse because there wasn't a murder. The state can't charge you with theft because the feds have already done so. The lawsuits filed by the insurance companies have been dismissed. Pepper is still alive, out there somewhere. Clovis took his place. That leaves one lousy little charge of grave tampering."

"Close. It's called mutilating a corpse, should you care to check the criminal code. You should know this stuff by now."

"Right. A felony, I believe."

"A light felony."

Karl stirred his gumbo and admired his skinny friend gazing out the window, nibbling on a cracker, no doubt plotting his next maneuver.

"Can I go with you?" he asked.

"To where?"

"To wherever you're going. You walk outta here, meet the girl, pick up the dough, hit the beach, live on a yacht. I'd just like to tag along for the ride."

"I'm not there yet."

"You're getting closer every day."

Karl turned off the television and moved his food aside. "There's a gap I'd like to fill in," he said. "Clovis died, then he was buried, or he wasn't buried. But what happened in between?"

Patrick chuckled, and said, "You like the details, don't you?"

"I'm a Judge. The facts are important."

Patrick took a seat and propped his bare feet on the desk. "I almost got caught. It's not easy to steal a corpse, you know?"

"I'll take your word for it."

"I had insisted that Clovis make his funeral arrangements. I even added a codicil to his will giving directions to the funeral home-no open casket, no visitation, no music, an overnight wake, a simple wood coffin, and a simple graveside service."

"A wooden coffin?"

"Yeah, Clovis was big on the ashes-to-ashes-dust-to-dust routine. Cheap wooden casket, no vault. That was the way his grandfather was buried. Anyway, I was at the hospital when he died, and I waited for the mortician from Wiggins to arrive with the hearse. Holland was his name, a real card. Owns the only funeral home in town. Black suit, the works. I gave him a copy of Clovis' instructions. The will gave me authority to do what needed to be done, and Holland didn't care. It was around three in the afternoon. Rol-land said he would do the embalming in a few hours. He asked me if Clovis had a suit to be buried in. We hadn't thought of that. I said no, I had never seen Clovis in a suit. Rolland said he kept a few old ones around, and he'd take care of it.

"Clovis wanted to be buried on his farm, but I explained to him many times that in Mississippi you can't do that. Has to be in a registered cemetery. His grandfather fought in the Civil War, and had been quite the hero, according to Clovis. When he was seven years old his grandfather died, and they had one of those old-fashioned wakes that lasted for three days. They placed his grandfather's casket on a table in the front parlor and folks trooped by and looked at him.

Clovis liked that. He was determined to do something similar. He made me swear that I would do a small wake for him. I explained this to Rolland. He said something to the effect that he'd seen everything. This was no surprise.

"Just after dark, I was sitting on Clovis' front porch when the hearse pulled up. I helped Rolland roll the casket down the driveway. We manhandled it up the steps, over the porch, and into the den, where we parked it in front of the television. I remember thinking how light it was. Clovis had shriveled up to a hundred pounds.

" 'You the only one here?' Rolland said, looking around.

" 'Yep. It's a small wake,' I said.

"I asked him to open the casket. He hesitated, and I told him that I had forgotten to include some Civil War memorabilia that Clovis wanted to be buried with. While I watched, he opened the casket with his church key, a small generic wrench which will open any casket in the world. Clovis looked the same. On his waist, I placed his grandfather's infantryman's cap and a tattered regimental banner from the Seventeenth Mississippi. Rolland closed the casket again, and left.

"No one showed up for the wake. Not a soul. I turned the lights off around midnight and locked the doors. Church keys are nothing more than Alien wrenches, and I had purchased a full set. It took less than a minute to open the casket. I removed Clovis; he was light, stiff as a board, and shoeless. I guess for three thousand bucks you don't get a pair of shoes. I laid him gently on the sofa, then I placed four concrete cinder blocks in the coffin, and closed it.

"Clovis and I left and drove to my hunting cabin. He was lying in the backseat, and I was driving very carefully. It would've been difficult to answer questions from a highway patrolman.

"A month earlier, I had bought an old freezer and put it on the screened porch of the cabin. I had just managed to get Clovis stuffed in the freezer when I heard something in the woods. It was Pepper, sneaking up on the cabin. Two o'clock in the morning, and Pepper caught me. I told him my wife and I had just finished a big fight, I was in a foul mood, and would he please leave. I don't think he saw me wrestling the corpse up the steps of the cabin. I locked the freezer with log chains, put a tarp over it, then some old boxes. I waited until dawn because Pepper was out there somewhere. Then I sneaked off, drove home, changed clothes, and was back at Clovis' by ten. Rol-land arrived in a chirpy mood and wanted to know how the wake went. Just perfect, I said. The grieving had been held to a minimum. We pushed and pulled and loaded the casket back into the hearse, then went to the cemetery."

Karl listened with his eyes closed, his lips curled into a smile, his head shaking slowly in disbelief. "You devious bastard," he said, almost to himself.

"Thanks. On Friday afternoon, I went to the cabin for the weekend. I worked on a brief, scouted turkeys with Pepper, checked on old Clovis, who seemed to be resting comfortably. Sunday morning, I left before sunrise and positioned the dirt bike and the gasoline. Later, I drove Pepper to the bus station in Jackson.

After dark, I removed Clovis from the freezer, sat him up next to the fireplace so he'd thaw, then around ten put him in my trunk. An hour later, I was dead."

"No remorse?"

"Of course. It was a terrible thing to do. But I made the decision to vanish, Karl, and I had to figure out a way. I couldn't kill anybody, but I needed a body. It actually makes sense."

"Perfectly logical."

"And when Clovis died, it was time for me to leave. A lot of it was luck. So many things could've gone wrong."

"Your luck continues."

"So far."

Karl looked at-his watch, and took another crab claw. "How much of this do I tell Judge Trussel?"

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John Grisham's Novels
» The Broker
» The Chamber
» The Partner
» The Client
» The Associate
» The King of Torts
» The Brethren
» The Last Juror
» Playing for Pizza
» The Litigators
» The Testament
» The Bleachers
» The Appeal
» The Firm
» The Innocent Man
» A Painted House
» A Time to Kill (Jake Brigance #1)
» Calico Joe
» Ford County
» The Street Lawyer