"Objection!" shouted Buckley.
"Sustained," Noose shouted back.
He ignored the shouting and continued softly. He asked them to try to imagine, throughout the trial, how they would feel had it been their daughter. He asked them not to convict Carl Lee but to send him home to his family. He didn't mention insanity. They knew it was coming.
He finished shortly after he started, and left the jury with a marked contrast in the two styles.
"Is that all?" Noose asked in amazement.
Jake nodded as he sat by his client.
"Very well. Mr. Buckley, you may call your first witness."
"The State calls Cora Cobb."
The bailiff went to the witness room and fetched Mrs. Cobb, He led her through the door by the jury box, into the courtroom where she was sworn by Jean Gillespie, and then he seated her in the witness chair.
"Speak into the microphone," he instructed.
"You are Cora Cobb?" Buckley asked with full volume as he situated the podium near the railing.
"Yes, sir."
"Where do you live?"
"Route 3, Lake Village, Ford County."
"You are the mother of Billy Ray Cobb, deceased?"
"Yes, sir," she said as her eyes watered. She was a rural woman whose husband had left when the boys were small. They had raised themselves while she worked two shifts at a cheap furniture factory between Karaway and Lake Village. She lost control over them at an early age. She was about
fifty, tried to look forty with hair dye and makeup, but could easily pass for early sixties.
"How old was your son at the time of his death?"
"Twenty-three."
"When did you last see him alive?"
"Just a few seconds before he was kilt."
"Where did you see him?"
"Here in this courtroom."
"Where was he killed?"
"Downstairs."
"Did you hear the shots that killed your son?"
She began to cry. "Yes, sir."
"Where did you last see him?"
"At the funeral home."
"And what was his condition?"
"He was dead."
"Nothing further," Buckley announced.
"Cross-examination, Mr. Brigance?"
She was a harmless witness, called to establish that the victim was indeed dead, and to evoke a little sympathy. Nothing could be gained by cross-examination, and normally she would have been left alone. But Jake saw an opportunity he couldn't pass. He saw a chance to set the tone for the trial, to wake Noose and Buckley and the jury; to just get everyone aroused. She was not really that pitiful; she was faking some. Buckley had probably instructed her to cry if possible.
"Just a few questions," Jake said as he walked behind Buckley and Musgrove to the podium. The D.A. was immediately suspicious.
"Mrs. Cobb, is it true that your son was convicted of selling marijuana?"
"Objection!" Buckley roared, springing to his feet. "The criminal record of the victim is inadmissible!"
"Sustained!"
"Thank you, Your Honor," Jake said properly, as if Noose had done him a favor.
She wiped her eyes and cried harder.
"You say your son was twenty-three when he died?"
"Yes."
"In his twenty-three years, how many other children am he rape?"
"Objection! Objection!" yelled Buckley, waving his arms and looking desperately at Noose, who was yelling, "Sustained! Sustained! You're out of order, Mr. Brigance! You're out of order!"
Mrs. Cobb burst into tears and bawled uncontrollably as the shouting erupted. She managed to keep the microphone in her face, and her wailing and carrying on resounded through the stunned courtroom.
"He should be admonished, Your Honor!" Buckley demanded, his face and eyes glowing with violent anger and his neck a deep purple.
"I'll withdraw the question," Jake replied loudly as he returned to his seat.
"Cheap shot, Brigance," Musgrove mumbled.
"Please admonish him," Buckley begged, "and instruct the jury to disregard."
"Any redirect?" asked Noose.
"No," answered Buckley as he dashed to the witness stand with a handkerchief to rescue Mrs. Cobb, who had buried her head in her hands and was sobbing and shaking violently.
"You are excused, Mrs. Cobb," Noose said. "Bailiff, please assist the witness."
The bailiff lifted her by the arm, with Buckley's assistance, and led her down from the witness stand, in front of the jury box, through the railing, down the center aisle. She shrieked and whined every step of the way, and her noises increased as she neared the back door until she was roaring at full throttle when she made her exit.
Noose glared at Jake until she was gone and the courtroom was quiet again. Then he turned to the jury and said: "Please disregard the last question by Mr. Brigance."
"What'd you do that for?" Carl Lee whispered to his lawyer.
"I'll explain later."
"The State calls Earnestine Willard," Buckley announced in a quieter tone and with much more hesitation.
Mrs. Willard was brought from the witness room above the courtroom. She was sworn and seated.
"You are Earnestine Willard?" asked Buckley.
"Yes, sir," she said in a fragile voice. Life had been rough on her too, but she had a certain dignity that made her more pitiful and believable than Mrs. Cobb. The clothes were inexpensive, but clean and neatly pressed. The hair was minus the cheap black dye that Mrs. Cobb relied on so heavily. The face was minus the layers of makeup. When she began crying, she cried to herself.
"And where do you live?"
"Out from Lake Village."
"Pete Willard was your son?"
"Yes, sir."
"When did you last see him alive?"
"Right here in this room, just before he was killed."
"Did you hear the gunfire that killed him?"
"Yes, sir."
"Where did you last see him?"
"At the funeral home."
"And what was his condition?"
Chapter Twenty-Five
"He was dead," she said, wiping tears with a Kleenex.
"I'm very sorry," Buckley offered. "No further questions," he added, eyeing Jake carefully.
"Any cross-examination?" Noose asked, also eyeing Jake suspiciously.
"Just a couple," Jake said.
"Mrs. Willard, I'm Jake Brigance." He stood behind the podium and looked at her without compassion.
She nodded.
"How old was your son when he died?"
"Twenty-seven."
Buckley pushed his chair from the table and sat on its edge, ready to spring. Noose removed his glasses and leaned forward. Carl Lee lowered his head.
"During his twenty-seven years, how many other children did he rape?"
Buckley bolted upright. "Objection! Objection! Objection!"
"Sustained! Sustained! Sustained!"
The yelling frightened Mrs. Willard, and she cried louder.
"Admonish him, Judge! He must be admonished!"
"I'll withdraw the question," Jake said on his way back to his seat.
Buckley pleaded with his hands. "But that's not good enough, Judge! He must be admonished!"
"Let's go into chambers," Noose ordered. He excused the witness and recessed until one.
Harry Rex was waiting on the balcony of Jake's office with sandwiches and a pitcher of margaritas. Jake declined and drank grapefruit juice. Ellen wanted just one, a small one she said to calm her nerves. For the third day, lunch had been prepared by Dell and personally delivered to Jake's office. Compliments of the Coffee Shop.