'Just Danny."
"I see. And you live in Tupelo, right?"
"Right."
"You say you're unemployed, right?"
"For now."
"And you've separated from your husband?"
"I just said we've split."
"Where do you live over in Tupelo?"
"An apartment."
"How much is the rent?"
"Two hundred a month."
"And you live there with your child?"
"Yes."
"Does the child work?"
"The child is five years old."
"So how do you pay the rent and utilities?"
"I get by." No one could have possibly believed her answer.
"What kind of car do you drive?"
She hesitated again. It was the kind of question that required an answer that could be verified with a few phone calls. "A '68 Mustang."
"That's a nice car. When did you get it?"
Again, there was a paper trail here, and even Lydia, who wasn't bright, could see the trap. "Coupla months ago," she said, defiantly.
"Is the car tided in your name?"
"It is."
"Is the apartment lease in your name?"
"It is."
Paperwork, paperwork. She couldn't lie about it, and she certainly couldn't afford it. Ernie took some notes from Hank Hooten and studied them suspiciously.
"How long did you sleep with Danny Padgitt?"
"Fifteen minutes, usually."
In a tense courtroom, the answer provided scattered laughter. Ernie removed his glasses, rubbed them with the end of his tie, gave her a nasty grin, and rephrased the question. "Your affair with Danny Padgitt, how long did it last?"
"Almost a year."
"Where did you first meet him?"
"At the clubs, up at the state line."
"Did someone introduce the two of you?"
"I really don't remember. He was there, I was there, we had a dance. One thing led to another."
There was no doubt that Lydia Vince had spent many nights in many honky-tonks, and she'd never run from a new dance partner. Ernie needed just a few more lies that he could nail down.
He asked a series of questions about her background and her husband's - birth, education, marriage, employment, family. Names and dates and events that could be verified as true or false. She was for sale. The Padgitts had found a witness they could buy.
As we left the courtroom late that afternoon, I was confused and uneasy. I had been convinced for many months that Danny Padgitt killed Rhoda Kassellaw, and I still had no doubts. But the jury suddenly had something to hang itself with. A sworn witness had committed a dreadful act of perjury, but it was possible that a juror could have a reasonable doubt.
* * *
Ginger was more depressed than me, so we decided to get drunk. We bought burgers and fries and a case of beer and went to her small motel room where we ate and then drowned our fears and hatred of a corrupt judicial system. She said more than once that her family, fractured as it was, could not hold up if Danny Padgitt were let go. Her mother was not stable anyway, and a not-guilty verdict would push her over the cliff. What would they tell Rhoda's children one day?
We tried watching television, but nothing held our interest. We grew weary of worrying about the trial. As I was about to fall asleep, Ginger walked out of the bathroom naked, and the night took a turn for the better. We made love off and on until the alcohol prevailed and we fell asleep.
Chapter 17
Unknown to me - and there was no reason it should have been known to me because I was such a newcomer to the community and certainly not involved in judicial affairs, and besides I literally had my hands full of Ginger and for a few wonderful hours we lost interest in the trial - a secret meeting took place shortly after adjournment on Wednesday. Ernie Gaddis went to Harry Rex's office for a post-trial drink and both admitted they were sick over Lydia's testimony. They began making phone calls, and within an hour they had rounded up a group of lawyers they could trust, and a couple of politicians as well.
The opinion was unanimous that the Padgitts were in the process of wiggling out of what appeared to be a solid case against them. They had managed to find a witness they could bribe. Lydia had obviously been paid to concoct her story, and she was either too broke or too stupid to understand the risks of perjury. Regardless, she had given the jury a reason, albeit a weak one, to second-guess the prosecution.
An acquittal in such an open-and-shut case would infuriate the town and mock the court system. A hung jury would send a similar message - justice could be bought in Ford County. Ernie, Harry Rex, and the other lawyers worked hard every day manipulating the system on behalf of their clients, but the rules were applied fairly. The system worked because the judges and jurors were impartial and unbiased. To allow Lucien Wilbanks and the Padgitts to corrupt the process would cause irreparable damage.
There was a consensus that a hung jury was entirely possible. As a believable witness, Lydia Vince left much to be desired, but the jurors were not as savvy about fabricated testimony and crooked clients. The lawyers agreed that Fargarson, "the crippled boy," appeared hostile to the prosecution. After two full days and almost fifteen hours of watching the jurors, the lawyers felt they could read them.
Mr. John Deere also had them worried. His real name was Mo Teale and he'd been a mechanic down at the tractor place for over twenty years. He was a simple man with a limited wardrobe. Late Monday afternoon when the jury was finally selected and Judge Loopus sent them home to hurriedly pack for the bus, Mo had simply loaded up his week's supply of work uniforms. Each morning he marched into the jury box wearing a bright yellow shirt with green trim and green pants with yellow trim, as if he was ready for another vigorous day of pulling wrenches.
Mo sat with his arms crossed and frowned whenever Ernie Gaddis was on his feet. His body language terrified the prosecution.
Harry Rex thought it was important to find Lydia's estranged husband. If they were in fact going through a divorce, it was more than likely not an amicable one. It was difficult to believe she was having an affair with Danny Padgitt, but at the same time it seemed likely that the woman was no stranger to extramarital activity. The husband might have testimony that could severely discredit Lydia's.
Ernie wanted to dig into her private life. He wanted to create doubt about her finances so he could yell at the jury, "How can she live so comfortably when she's unemployed and going through a divorce?"
"Because she got twenty-five thousand dollars from the Padgitts," one of the lawyers said. Speculation about the amount of the bribe became a running debate as the night wore on.
The search for Malcolm Vince began with Harry Rex and two others calling every lawyer within five counties. Around 10 P.M. they found a lawyer in Corinth, two hours away, who said he had met with a Malcolm Vince once about a divorce, but had not been retained. Mr. Vince was living in a trailer somewhere out in the boondocks near the Tishomingo County line. He could not remember where he worked, but he was sure he had written it down in his file at the office. The District Attorney himself got on the phone and coaxed the lawyer back to the office.
At eight o'clock the next morning, about the time I was leaving Ginger at the motel, Judge Loopus readily agreed to order a subpoena for Malcolm Vince. Twenty minutes later, a Corinth city policeman stopped a forklift in a warehouse and informed its operator that a subpoena had just been issued for his appearance in a murder trial over in Ford County.