Читаем A time to kill полностью

"They cut it off," Looney answered matter-of-factly, as if an amputation happened monthly. "Just below the knee."

"Did you get a good look at the man with the gun?"

"Yes, sir."

"Can you identify him for the jury?"

"Yes, sir. It's Mr. Hailey, the man sittin' over there."

That answer would have been a logical place to end Looney's testimony. He was brief, to the point, sympathetic and positive of the identification. The jury had listened to every word so far. But Buckley and Musgrove retrieved the large diagrams of the courthouse and arranged them before the jury so that Looney could limp around for a while. Under Buckley's direction, he retraced everybody's exact movements just before the killings.

Jake rubbed his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose. Noose cleaned and recleaned his glasses. The jurors fidgeted.

"Any cross-examination, Mr. Brigance?" Noose asked at last.

"Just a few questions," Jake said as Musgrove cleared the debris from the courtroom.

"Officer Looney, who was Carl Lee looking at when he was shooting?"

"Them boys, as far as I could tell."

"Did he ever look at you?"

"Well, now, I didn't spend a lotta time tryin' to make eye contact with him. In fact, I was movin' in the other direction."

"So he didn't aim at you?"

"Oh, no, sir. He just aimed at those boys. Hit them too."

"What did he do when he was shooting?"

"He just screamed and laughed like he was crazy. It was the weirdest thing I ever heard, like he was some kinda madman or something. And you know, what I'll always remember is that with all the noise, the gun firin', the bullets

whistlin', the boys screamin' as they got hit, over all the noise I could hear him laughin' that crazy laugh."

The answer was so perfect Jake had to fight off a smile. He and Looney had worked on it a hundred times, and it was a thing of beauty. Every word was perfect. Jake busily flipped through his legal pad and glanced at the jurors. They all stared at Looney, enthralled by his answer. Jake scribbled something, anything, nothing, just to kill a few more seconds before the most important questions of the trial.

"Now, Deputy Looney, Carl Lee Hailey shot you in the leg."

"Yes, sir, he did."

"Do you think it was intentional?"

"Oh, no, sir. It was an accident."

"Do you want to see him punished for shooting you?" • "No, sir. I have no ill will toward the man. He did what I would've done."

Buckley dropped his pen and slumped in his chair. He looked sadly at his star witness.

"What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I don't blame him for what he did. Those boys raped his little girl. I gotta little girl. Somebody rapes her and he's a dead dog. I'll blow him away, just like Carl Lee did. We oughtta give him a trophy."

"Do you want the jury to convict Carl Lee?"

Buckley jumped and roared, "Objection! Objection! Improper question!"

"No!" Looney yelled. "I don't want him convicted. He's a hero. He-"

"Don't answer, Mr. Looney!" Noose said loudly. "Don't answer!"

"Objection! Objection!" Buckley continued, on his tiptoes.

"He's a hero! Turn him loose!" Looney yelled at Buck-ley.

"Order! Order!" Noose banged his gavel.

Buckley was silent. Looney was silent. Jake walked to his chair and said, "I'll withdraw the question."

"Please disregard," Noose instructed the jury.

Looney smiled at the jury and limped from the courtroom.

"Call your next witness," Noose said, removing nis glasses.

Buckley rose slowly and with a great effort at drama, said, "Your Honor, the State rests."

"Good," Noose replied, looking at Jake. "I assume you have a motion or two, Mr. Brigance."

"Yes, Your Honor."

"Very well, we'll take those up in chambers."

Noose excused his jury with the same parting instructions and adjourned until nine Friday.

Jake awoke in the darkness with a slight hangover, a headache due to fatigue and Coors, and the distant but unmistakable sound of his doorbell ringing continually as if held firmly in place by a large and determined thumb. He opened the front door in his nightshirt and tried to focus on the two figures standing on the porch. Ozzie and Nesbit, it was finally determined.

"Can I help you?" he asked as he opened the door. They followed him into the den.

"They're gonna kill you today," Ozzie said.

Jake sat on the couch and massaged his temples. "Maybe they'll succeed."

"Jake, this is serious. They plan to kill you."

"Who?"

"The Klan."

"Mickey Mouse?"

"Yeah. He called yesterday and said something was up. He called back two hours ago and said you're the lucky man. Today is the big day. Time for some excitement. They bury Stump Sisson this morning in Loydsville, and it's time for the eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth routine."

"Why me? Why don't they kill Buckley or Noose or someone more deserving?"

"We didn't get a chance to talk about that."

"What method of execution?" Jake asked, suddenly feeling awkward sitting there in his nightshirt.

"He didn't say."

"Does he know?"

"He ain't much on details. He just said they'd try to do it sometime today."

"So what am I supposed to do? Surrender?"

"What time you goin' to the office?"