Читаем A time to kill полностью

They crossed the dam in a blinding downpour. Harry Rex parked next to a small pavilion over a picnic area. They sat on the concrete table and watched the rain batter Lake Chatulla. Jake drank beer while Harry Rex ate the catfish dinners.

"When you gonna tell Carla?" he asked, slurping beer.

The tin roof roared above. "About what?"

"The house."

"I'm not gonna tell her. I think I can have it rebuilt before she gets back."

"You mean by the end of the week?"

"Yeah."

"You're cracking up, Jake. You're drinking too much, and you're losing your mind."

"I deserve it. I've earned it. I'm two weeks away from bankruptcy. I'm about to lose the biggest case of my career, for which I have been paid nine hundred dollars. My beautiful home that everyone took pictures of and the old ladies from the Garden Club tried to get written up in Southern Living has been reduced to rubble. My wife has left me, and when she hears about the house, she'll divorce me. No question about that. So I'll lose my wife. And once my daughter learns that her damned dog died in the fire, she'll hate me forever. There's a contract on my head. I've got Klan goons looking for me. Snipers shooting at me. There's a soldier lying up in the hospital with my bullet in his spine. He'll be a vegetable, and I'll think about him every hour of every day for the rest of my life. My secretary's husband was killed because of me. My last employee is in the hospital with a punk haircut and a concussion because she worked for me. The jury thinks I'm a lying crook because of my expert witness. My client wants to fire me. When he's convicted, every-

body will blame me. He'll hire another lawyer for the appeal, one of those ACLU types, and they'll sue me claiming ineffective trial counsel. And they'll be right. So I'll get my ass sued for malpractice. I'll have no wife, no daughter, no house, no practice, no clients, no money, nothing."

"You need psychiatric help, Jake. I think you should make an appointment with Dr. Bass. Here, have a beer."

"I guess I'll move in with Lucien and sit on the porch all day."

"Can I have your office?"

"Do you think she'll divorce me?"

"Probably so. I've had four divorces, and they'll file for damned near anything."

"Not Carla. I worship the ground she walks on, and she knows it."

"She'll be sleeping on the ground when she gets back to Clanton."

"Naw, we'll get a nice, cozy little double-wide trailer. It'll do us fine until the bankruptcy is over. Then we'll find another old house and start over."

"You'll probably find you another wife and start over. Why would she leave a swanky cottage on the beach and return to a house trailer in Clanton?"

"Because I'll be in the house trailer."

"That's not good enough, Jake. You'll be a drunk, bankrupt, disbarred lawyer, living in a house trailer. You will be publicly disgraced. All of your friends, except me and Lucien, will forget about you. She'll never come back. It's over, Jake. As your friend and divorce lawyer, I advise you to file first. Do it now, tomorrow, so she'll never know what hit her."

"Why would I sue her for divorce?"

"Because she's gonna sue you. We'll file first and allege that she deserted you in your hour of need."

"Is that grounds for divorce?"

"No. But we'll also claim that you're crazy, temporary insanity. Just let me handle it. The M'Naghten Rule. I'm the sleazy divorce lawyer, remember."

"How could I forget?"

Jake poured hot beer from his neglected bottle, and

opened another. The rain slackened and the clouds lightened. A cool wind blew up from the lake.

"They'll convict him, won't they, Harry Rex?" he asked, staring at the lake in the distance.

He quit chomping and wiped his mouth. He laid the paper plate on the table, and took a long drink of beer. The wind blew light drops of water onto his face. He wiped it with a sleeve.

"Yeah, Jake. Your man is about to be sent away. I can see it in their eyes. The insanity crap just didn't work. They didn't want to believe Bass to begin with, and after Buckley yanked his pants down, it was all over. Carl Lee didn't help himself any. He seemed rehearsed and too sincere. Like he was begging for sympathy. He was a lousy witness. I watched the jury while he testified. I saw no support for him. They'll convict, Jake. And quickly."

"Thanks for being so blunt."

"I'm your friend, and I think you should start preparing for a conviction and a long appeal."

"You know, Harry Rex, I wish I'd never heard of Carl Lee Hailey."

"I think it's too late, Jake."

Sallie answered the door and told Jake she was sorry about the house. Lucien was upstairs in his study, working and sober. He pointed to a chair and instructed Jake to sit down. Legal pads littered his desk.

"I've spent all afternoon working on a closing argument," he said, waving at the mess before him. "Your only hope of saving Hailey is with a spellbinding performance on final summation. I mean, we're talking about the greatest closing argument in the history of jurisprudence. That's what it'll take."