Grass Roots (45 page)

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Authors: Stuart Woods

Tags: #Mystery, #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Grass Roots
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“No, sir. We stayed home and had some supper and watched a video.”

Will turned toward the defense table, then stopped.

“At whose house was your last service call that day, the one you finished just before six?”

“It was at Mr. Elton Hunter’s house.” Larry pointed at the prosecution table.

“The gentleman right over there.”

The courtroom burst into laughter.

Will turned serious.

“Larry, did you make sexual advances to Sarah Cole?”

“No, sir, I did not.”

“Were you at the city dump, unloading Sarah Cole’s body from your van?”

“No, sir, I was not.”

“Larry, tell us the truth: did you murder Sarah Cole?”

“No, sir, I did not. I never did. I am not a murderer.”

And with that, Larry Moody began to cry.

“Your witness, Mr. Prosecutor,” Will said, and sat down.

“I have no questions at this time. Your Honor,” Hunter said.

“I reserve the right to recall the witness at a later time.”

You’re bluffing. Will thought. You’ll never recall him, you’re just trying to save face. He gave Larry his handkerchief as he returned to his seat.

“Your Honor, the defense calls Charlene Joiner.”

There was a murmur of curiosity as Charlene entered the courtroom from the witness holding area, took the stand, and was sworn. She was wearing a flowered dress, one slightly more modest than the one she had worn when she appeared on television in front of the courthouse the day before.

Will took her through her version of the evening, corroborating Larry’s testimony. Then he took her a bit farther.

“Charlene,” Will said, “what did you and Larry do after dinner?”

“We watched a video, like I said.”

“Did you do anything else?”

Charlene lowered her eyes.

“We… well, we made love.”

Will was amazed at how well she managed being demure.

She certainly had not been demure with him the first time she had described her evening.

“Just once?” he asked.

“No, more than once; two or three times, I think.”

“Would you say that you and Larry have a healthy sex life together?”

“Oh, yes,” she replied.

“I’d say we have a very healthy sex life.” She managed a shy smile.

“Tell me, do you recall what you did the evening before?”

“Yes, we went to a drive-in movie.”

“Did you do anything there besides watch the movie?”

“Well, there was kind of a sexy movie on, and we got, well, excited, so we made love.”

“Where did you make love?”

“In the back of Larry’s van. On the floor.”

Will went to the clerk and retrieved a black sweater.

“Do you recognize this sweater?”

“Yes, I bought it on sale at Rich’s last fall. See, it has a dry cleaner’s mark with my name.”

“When was the last time you wore this sweater, Charlene?”

“That night at the drive-in.”

“Did you wear it when you we remaking love in the back of the van?”

“Yes. I didn’t take it off.”

“Were you lying on your back in the rear of the van?”

“Yes, at least part of the time. We were all over the place.”

The courtroom laughed aloud and was hushed by the Judge.

“Did your back rub against the carpet on the floor of the van when you were making love?”

“Yes. For quite a while.”

“Charlene, did you bleed at all that night?”

“Yes, quite a bit.”

“Did you bleed as a result of having made love?”

“Yes.”

“Did you bleed while you we remaking love in the van?”

“Yes. I tried to clean up the carpet when we got home, but it didn’t all come out.”

Will went back to the defense table, retrieved a document, and handed it to Charlene.

“Charlene, do you recognize this document?”

“Yes, it’s a blood-type certificate from the office of Dr. Leonard Allgood, of Marietta, Georgia. You asked me to have my blood typed, so I went to Dr. Allgood, when I was visiting in Marietta.”

“And would you read your blood type from the certificate to the court?”

“It says I have type A positive.”

“Charlene, you’ve testified that you and Larry Moody have a very healthy sex life together. Would you say that you satisfy all of Larry’s wants and needs in that department

“Objection!” Elton Hunter said.

“Irrelevant.”

Charlene smiled a broad smile. The jury had gotten the point. Will reckoned.

“No further questions. Your witness.”

Elton Hunter stood.

“Miss. Joiner, are you aware of the penalty for perjury?”

“Yes, I think so. You can go to jail if you lie under oath.”

“Are you aware that, if you testify falsely in order to give Larry Moody an alibi for a murder, that you become an accessory to that murder and that you become subject to the same penalty as the murderer in this case, the death penalty?”

“Yes,” Charlene said firmly, “I am aware of that, and I would never put myself in that position. Not for any body.” Elton Hunter sat down, defeated.

“No further questions at this time, Your Honor.”

The Judge turned to Will.

“It’s after four o’clock. How much more do you have?”

“I have just two more witnesses, Your Honor, and I do not anticipate that their testimony will take long. I believe we can finish this afternoon.”

“Call your witnesses, then.”

Will called John Morgan, Larry’s employer, who vouched for Larry’s sterling character, much as he had at the preliminary hearing. Then Will called Julia McLavale.

The woman was a model of what a high school teacher should look like.

Will thought. The first time he had seen her, when she had come to his office to be interviewed, he had thought that Central Casting could not have supplied a better person for the role. She was an ample, motherly woman, sweet-looking.

“Miss. McLnvale,” Will began, “what is your work?”

“I am a retired high school teacher,” she said.

“Where did you last teach?”

“At La Grange High School.”

“And did you ever have Larry Moody as a student in your classes there?”

“All four years,” she said, smiling at Larry.

“I taught him two years of algebra and two years of geometry.”

“And did you ever have occasion to see Larry outside the classroom?”

“Yes, I was faculty adviser for the automotive club for two years, and Larry was the secretary of the club. Larry also used to come and do odd jobs at my house. He was very handy.”

“So you knew Larry better than you knew most students?”

“Oh, yes, much better. I knew Larry very well indeed.

He still comes to see me two or three times a year. I bake him cookies.”

Will smiled.

“And what is your opinion of Larry?” he asked.

“I think Larry is a very fine person,” she said.

“Is Larry a truthful person?”

“Oh, yes. Of course, he told the occasional fib, like all boys, but with Larry, he was so embarrassed if he didn’t tell the truth that you always knew if he lied. He would all but cry.”

“Was Larry Moody ever violent?”

“Oh, no. I mean, he played on the football team, and he was very good, but off the field, he was the sweetest, gentlest boy you ever saw.”

“Is Larry Moody the kind of man who would harm a young woman?”

“Certainly not. It’s just not possible.”

Will pressed on. This woman was wonderful, and he intended to milk her for all she could be worth to his case.

He held up his hands as Elton Hunter had done earlier in the trial.

“Did Larry Moody ever do anything that would cause you to think that he was the kind of young man who could force a woman to have sex with him, then put his hands around her neck and strangle the life out of her?”

“Oh, no!” Miss. McLnvale replied.

“Thank you,” he said, then turned to Elton Hunter.

“Your witness,” he said, unable to keep from smiling confidently.

But Miss. McLnvale had not finished.

“And I never believed that he had anything to do with raping that colored girl in high school,” she said vehemently.

Will turned and looked at Miss. McLnvale, stunned.

“Thank you, no further questions,” he managed to say.

The courtroom burst into excited conversation, and the Judge hammered them into silence.

Elton was on his feet like a panther.

“Tell us about that particular incident. Miss. McLnvale, when Larry Moody was accused of rape.”

“Objection!” Will said.

“Irrelevant. My client is not charged with rape.”

“A defense witness has introduced this statement. Your Honor,” Elton Hunter cried.

“Surely, I may cross-examine.”

“Overruled,” the Judge said.

“Witness will answer.”

Will sat down heavily and stared at the woman. He had made a cardinal mistake: he had asked a witness a question to which he did not know the answer.

“Tell us about that incident in high school. Miss. McLnvale,” Elton Hunter said eagerly.

“Well, it was this little black girl who made the accusation,” she replied.

The courtroom gasped. What is happening? Will thought. His case had spun totally out of control.

“Yes, go on,” Hunter said, not sure exactly what to ask.

“Well, the girl, her name was Wilson, I think—yes, that was it, Cora Mae Wilson—she said Larry had dragged her into a car after a football game and raped her. Nobody believed her, of course. Nobody could believe a thing like that of Larry.”

“No further questions of this witness,” Hunter said, then turned to the Judge.

“Your Honor, I request a recess until two o’clock tomorrow to give the prosecution time to produce this very important witness, Cora Mae Wilson.”

“I object, Your Honor,” Will said, rising to his feet.

“The prosecution has concluded its case.”

“Recess until two o’clock tomorrow,” the Judge said.

“The court will hear the witness at that time, if she can be found.”

The Judge brought down his gavel and left the courtroom, where pandemonium had broken out.

Will grabbed Larry Moody by the arm and hustled him out a side door, followed closely by Charlene Joiner. He herded them into an empty office off the corridor and slammed the door.

“All right, what the hell is going on here?” he nearly shouted at Larry.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Cora Mae Wilson?”

“Aw, shoot, that wasn’t important,” Larry said.

“I had forgotten all about that. There never was anything to it.”

“Not important?” Will asked, incredulous.

“Do you realize that if they find this woman, she might send you to the electric chair?”

“Easy, Will,” Charlene said, putting her hand on his arm.

“She’s got nobody to back up her story. It’ll be her word against Larry’s.”

Will turned and looked at her.

“You mean, you knew about this, too?”

Charlene looked away.

Will turned back to Larry, whose features now contorted into a face Will had never seen before angry, guilty, desperate.

“That’s it,” Larry said.

“It’s her word against mine.”

In that moment, something passed between Will and Larry, and suddenly Will knew, beyond any doubt, that the story was true. What was more, he knew, for the first time, that Larry Moody had killed Sarah Cole.

Larry saw it in his face.

“You wouldn’t take a nigger bitch’s word against mine, would you? The white people on that jury sure won’t.”

Will stared at him for a moment, then at Charlene, then he turned and left the room. will sat in the library of the big house, a bourbon in his hand, and looked at his father.

“So,” Billy Lee said, “you’ve finally lost your virginity.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” Will replied, swigging from his glass.

“You’ve learned the great truth that clients often lie to their own lawyers.”

“It isn’t just that,” Will said.

“I really thought he was innocent.”

“His innocence or guilt shouldn’t be the point, not when you’re defending a man.”

“Oh, I know that; I know that everybody is entitled to a defense. But I think he’s gotten a better defense so far, because I thought he was innocent.”

“Suppose he is guilty? What did you expect him to do, confess everything to you and plead? The fellow’s freedom is at stake; it’s hardly surprising that he considers it worth lying for.”

“You’re right, of course. I just don’t know how I’m going to stand up tomorrow and plead the man’s innocence.”

“You’ll do what we all have to do every day of our lives—the best you can. Often, it’s not good enough, but it’ll have to be.”

Will stood up and set his empty glass on the bar.

“You’re right.”

Walking back to the cottage in the dark, Will tried to stop feeling sorry for himself. He’d go in there tomorrow and do the best he could.

Only, he didn’t want to see Larry Moody go free. Feeling as he did, how could he possibly do justice to the man’s defense?

As he walked into the cottage, the phone was ringing;

he picked it up.

“Hey,” a familiar voice said.

“Hello, Charlene,” he said listlessly.

“Could you use some company tonight?”

Will was shocked at her boldness.

“Are you crazy?

Don’t you know what we’re in the middle of here?”

“Sure I do. What we’ve been in the middle of all along.

What we were in the middle of the last time we slept together.”

Will was suddenly wary, suddenly felt that this conversation might not be entirely private.

“Listen, I have to go now. I have to get some sleep.”

“Will, listen,” she said, and her voice was serious.

“If Larry gets convicted tomorrow, this is going to be out of my hands.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I mean, I don’t want all this to come out any more than you do,” she said earnestly.

“I want it to stay just between you and me.”

He didn’t know what to say to her, and he had probably already said too much.

“Good night, Charlene,” he said, and hung up.

Immediately, the telephone rang again.

“Hello?” he said irritably.

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