"It's Judge Harkin," he said loudly. Nicholas was standing at the door. He turned and smiled at his colleagues. Millie Dupree and Mrs. Gladys Card were hovering in a corner near a pile of luggage, fidgeting nervously, afraid of jail or whatever the Judge might throw at them. But the other jurors were still indignant.
Nicholas unlocked the door and opened it. He smiled pleasantly as if nothing were wrong, as if strikes were a routine part of trials. "Come in," he said.
Harkin, in a gray suit, no robe, entered with Rohr and Cable in tow. "What's the problem here?" he asked while surveying the room. Most of the jurors were seated at the table with coffee cups and empty plates and newspapers scattered everywhere. Phillip Savelle stood alone at one window. Lonnie Shaver sat in a corner with a laptop on his knees. Easter was no doubt the spokesman, and probably the instigator.
"We don't think it's fair for the deputies to search our bags."
"And why not?"
"It should be obvious. These are our personal effects. We're not terrorists or drug smugglers, and you're not a customs agent." Easter's tone was authoritative, and the fact that he spoke so boldly to a distinguished judge made most of the jurors very proud. He was one of them, undoubtedly their leader regardless of what Herman thought, and he had told them more than once that they-not the Judge, not the lawyers, not the parties-but they the jurors were the most important people in this trial.
"It's routine in all sequestration cases," His Honor said, taking a step closer to Easter, who was four inches taller and not about to be cowered.
"But it's not in black and white, is it? In fact, I'll bet it's a simple matter of discretion with the presiding judge. True?"
"There are some good reasons for it."
"Not good enough. We're not coming out, Your Honor, until you promise our bags will be left alone." Easter said this with a tight jaw and semi-snarl, and it was evident to the Judge and the lawyers that he meant it. He was also speaking for the group. No one else had moved.
Harkin made the mistake of glancing over his shoulder at Rohr, who couldn't wait to add a few thoughts. "Oh hell, Judge, what's the big deal?" he blurted. "These folks aren't carrying plastic explosives."
"That's enough," Harkin said, but Rohr had managed to curry a slight favor with the jury. Cable, of course, felt the same, and wanted to convey his heartfelt trust in whatever the jurors had packed in their American Touristers, but Harkin didn't give him the chance.
"Very well," His Honor said. "The bags will not be searched. But if it comes to my attention that any juror possesses any item prohibited by the list I handed out yesterday, then that juror will be in contempt of court and subject to being jailed. Do we understand?"
Easter looked around the room, took the measure of each of his fellow jurors, most of whom appeared relieved and a few of whom were actually nodding. "That's fine, Judge," he said.
"Good. Now can we get on with the trial?"
"Well, there's one other problem."
"What is it?"
Nicholas lifted a sheet of paper from the table, read something, then said, "According to your rules here, we're allowed one conjugal visit per week. We think we should get more."
"How many?"
"As many as possible."
This was news to most of the jurors. There had been some grumbling among some of the men, Easter and Fernandez and Lonnie Shaver in particular, about the number of conjugal visits, but the women had not discussed it. Particularly, Mrs. Gladys Card and Millie Dupree were downright embarrassed to have His Honor think they were insisting on having as much sex as they could get. Mr. Card had had prostate trouble years earlier, and, well, Mrs. Gladys Card thought about divulging this to clear her good name when Herman Grimes said, "Two'll do me."
The image of old Herm feeling his way around under the covers with Mrs. Grimes could not be denied, and provoked laughter that broke the tension.
"I don't think we should take a survey," Judge Harkin said. "Can we agree on two? We're just talking about a couple of weeks, folks." "Two, with a possible third," Nicholas counteroffered.
"That's fine. Does that suit everyone?" His Honor looked around the room. Loreen Duke was giggling to herself at the table. Mrs. Gladys Card and Millie were trying their best to disappear into the walls and would not under any circumstances look the Judge in the eyes.
"Yes, that's fine," said Jerry Fernandez, red-eyed and hung over. If Jerry went a day without sex he developed headaches, but he knew two things: his wife was delighted to have him out of the house for the next two weeks, and he and Poodle would work out an arrangement.
"I object to the wording of this," Phillip Savelle said from the window, his first words of the trial. He was holding the sheet of rules. "Your definition of the persons eligible to participate in conjugal visits leaves something to be desired."
In clear English, the offending section read: "During each conjugal visit, each juror may spend two hours, alone and in his or her room, with his or her spouse, girlfriend, or boyfriend."
Judge Harkin, along with the two lawyers looking over his shoulder, and every juror in the room read the language carefully and wondered what in the world this weirdo had in mind. But Harkin was not about to find out. "I assure you, Mr. Savelle and members of the jury, I have no plans to restrict any of you in any way with respect to your conjugal visits. I don't care what you do, or whom you do it with, frankly." This seemed to satisfy Savelle as much as it humiliated Mrs. Gladys Card.
"Now, anything else?"
"That's all, Your Honor, and thank you," Herman said loudly, reasserting himself as the leader.
"Thanks," Nicholas said.
SCOTTY MANGRUM announced to the court, as soon as the jury was settled and happy, that he was finished with Dr. Kilvan. Durr Cable began a cross-examination so delicate that he seemed thoroughly intimidated by the great expert. They agreed on a few statistics that were undoubtedly meaningless. Dr. Kilvan stated that, through his plethora of numbers, he believed that about ten percent of all smokers actually get lung cancer.
Cable reinforced the point, something he'd done from the beginning and something he would do to the very end. "So Dr. Kilvan, if smoking causes lung cancer, then why do so few smokers get lung cancer?"
"Smoking greatly increases the risk of lung cancer."
"But it doesn't cause it every time, does it?"
"No. Not every smoker gets lung cancer."
"Thank you."
"But for those who smoke, the risk of lung cancer is much greater."
Cable warmed to the task and began to press. He asked Dr. Kilvan if he was familiar with a twenty-year-old study from the University of Chicago in which researchers found a greater incidence of lung cancer for smokers who lived in metropolitan areas than for smokers who lived in rural areas. Kilvan was very familiar with the study, though he had nothing to do with it.
"Can you explain it?" Cable asked.
"No."
"Can you venture a guess?"
"Yes. It was a controversial study when it came out because it indicated factors other than tobacco smoke might cause lung cancer."
"Such as air pollution?"
"Yes"
"Do you believe this?"
"It's possible."
"So you admit that air pollution causes lung cancer."