Sycamore Row

“Well, of course he wouldn’t tell me. That would ruin the ambush, right?”



“I can’t take another ambush, Harry Rex.”



“Just keep your cool. You’re doing fine. I don’t think Herschel and Ramona impressed too many jurors.”



“Should I go after her?”



“No. Take it easy. If you pin her down, she’ll just start crying again. The jury’s sick of her.”



Five minutes later, Jake walked to the podium and said, “Now, Mrs. Dafoe, your father died on October 2 of last year, correct?”



“Yes.”



“Before he died, when was the last time you saw him?”



“I didn’t keep notes, Mr. Brigance. He was my daddy.”



“Isn’t it true that you last saw him in late July, over two months before he died?”



“No, that’s not true at all. I saw him all the time.”



“The last time, Mrs. Dafoe. When was the last time?”



“Again, I didn’t keep up with the dates. Probably a couple of weeks before he died.”



“Are you sure about that?”



“Well, no, I’m not positive. Do you make a note every time you visit your parents?”



“I’m not the witness, Mrs. Dafoe. I’m the lawyer who’s asking the questions. Are you sure you saw your father a couple of weeks before he died?”



“Well, uh, I can’t be positive.”



“Thank you. Now, what about the children, Will and Leigh Ann? When was the last time they saw their grandfather before he died?”



“Oh, heavens, Mr. Brigance. I have no idea.”



“But you testified they saw him all the time, right?”



“Of course, yes. They loved their granddaddy.”



“Did he love them?”



“He adored them.”



Jake smiled and walked to the small table where the exhibits were kept. He picked up two sheets of paper and looked at Ramona. “This is the will your father wrote the day before he died. It’s in evidence and the jury has already seen it. In paragraph six, your father writes, and I quote: ‘I have two children—Herschel Hubbard and Ramona Hubbard Dafoe—and they have children, though I don’t know how many because I haven’t seen them in some time.’ End quote.”



Jake placed the will back on the table and asked, “By the way, how old is Will?”



“Fourteen.”



“And how old is Leigh Ann?”



“Twelve.”



“So it’s been twelve years since you had a child?”



“Yes, that’s very true.”



“And your own father didn’t know if you’d had any more kids?”



“You can’t believe that will, Mr. Brigance. My daddy wasn’t in his right mind when he wrote that.”



“I guess that’s up to the jury. No further questions.” Jake sat down and got a note from Quince Lundy that read, “Brilliant. You killed her.” At that moment in the trial, in his career, in his life for that matter, Jake needed a boost. He leaned over and whispered, “Thank you.”



Wade Lanier stood and said, “Your Honor, the contestants call Mr. Ian Dafoe, husband of Ramona Hubbard.” Ian slinked to the stand, no doubt primed and ready to fabricate another trip down memory lane. Halfway through his testimony, Quince Lundy slipped over another note. It read, “These people are trying way too hard to convince the jury. Don’t think it’s working.”



Jake nodded as he looked for an opening, a stray word that he might seize and turn against the witness. In the wake of his wife’s over-the-top drama, Ian came across as harmlessly dull. He gave many of the same answers, but without the emotion.



Through sources and back channels, Jake, Harry Rex, and Lucien had picked up some dirt on Ian. His marriage had been on the rocks for some time. He preferred to stay away from home and blamed his absences on business. He ran the women hard. His wife drank too much. And, some of his deals were in trouble.



On cross, Jake’s first question was, “You say you’re a commercial real estate developer, right?”



“That’s correct.”



“Do you own all or part of a company called KLD Biloxi Group?”



“I do.”



“And is that company attempting to renovate the Gulf Coast Mall in Biloxi, Mississippi?”



“It is.”



“Would you say that company is financially sound?”



“Depends on how you define ‘financially sound.’ ”



“Okay, let’s define it like this: Two months ago, was your company, KLD Biloxi Group, sued by the First Gulf Bank for the nonpayment of a $2 million line of credit?” Jake was holding and waving some papers clipped together. He had the proof.



“Yes, but there’s a lot more to the story.”



“I didn’t ask for more. Was your company also sued last month by a New Orleans bank known as Picayune Trust for $2.6 million?”



Ian took a deep breath and finally said, “Yes, but these cases are still pending, and we countersued.”



“Thank you. Nothing further.”



Ian stepped down at 4:45, and for a moment Judge Atlee considered recessing until Thursday morning. Wade Lanier offered to help by saying, “Judge, we can put on a witness that won’t take long.”



If Jake had an inkling of what was coming, he would have stalled some more with Ian, burned some clock, and dodged another ambush, at least until the next day. As it turned out, however, the jury left for the night with an even lower opinion of Seth Hubbard and his proclivities.



Lanier said, “We call Julina Kidd.”



Jake immediately recognized the name as one of the forty-five Lanier had dumped on his desk two weeks earlier. Jake had tried twice to phone her, but got nowhere. She was fetched from a witness room and led to the stand by a bailiff. Per Wade Lanier’s rather clear and firm instructions, she wore a cheap, blue dress that was similar to what Lettie had on. Nothing tight, nothing sexy, nothing to show off a figure that usually commanded a second look. No jewelry, nothing fancy. She tried her best to look plain, though that would have been impossible.



The message was subtle: if Seth would chase this attractive black woman, then he would also chase Lettie.



She took the stand and smiled nervously at the jury. Lanier walked her through some preliminaries, then got right to the point. He handed her some paperwork and asked, “Can you please identify this?”



She took a quick look and said, “Yes, this is a claim for sexual harassment I filed against Seth Hubbard about five years ago.”



Jake was on his feet, practically yelling, “Objection, Your Honor. Unless counsel can explain to us why this is relevant, it should not be admitted.” Lanier was standing too, ready to rumble. “Oh, it’s very relevant, Your Honor,” he said loudly.



Judge Atlee raised both hands and said, “Silence.” He glanced at his watch, looked at the jurors, paused for a second, and said, “Let’s keep everyone right here and take a five-minute break. Counsel, meet me in chambers.” They hurriedly marched back into his chambers. Jake was bitter enough to throw a punch and Lanier seemed willing to mix it up. When Lester Chilcott closed the door, Judge Atlee said, “What’s her testimony?”



Lanier said, “She worked for one of Seth Hubbard’s companies in south Georgia. They met there, he came on strong, forced her to have sex, then fired her when she decided she didn’t want any more. They reached an out-of-court settlement on the harassment suit.”



“And this was five years ago?” Jake asked.



“It was.”



“How is it relevant to our issues today?” Judge Atlee asked.



“Oh, it’s very relevant, Your Honor,” Lanier said casually and with the benefit of months of preparation. Jake was thoroughly blindsided and almost too angry to think. Lanier continued, “It goes to the issue of undue influence. Ms. Kidd was an employee, as was Ms. Lang. Seth had a propensity to seduce women who worked for him, regardless of color. This weakness led him to make decisions that were not financially sound.”



“Jake?”



“Bullshit. First, Judge, she should not be allowed to testify because she was not listed as a witness until two weeks ago, in clear violation of the rules. Second, what Seth did five years ago has nothing to do with his testamentary capacity last October. And, obviously, there is not one shred of proof that he was intimate with Lettie Lang. I don’t care how many women, black or white, he was screwing five years ago.”



Lanier said, “We think it’s probative.”



Jake said, “Bullshit, everything’s probative.”



“Your language, Jake,” Judge Atlee warned.



“Sorry.”



Judge Atlee held up a hand and all was quiet. He lit a pipe, exhaled mightily, paced to the window and back, then said, “I like your point, Wade. Both women were his employees. I’ll allow the testimony.”



Jake said, “Who needs a rule book?”



“See me after court today, Jake,” Judge Atlee said sternly, then blew some more smoke. He laid down his pipe and said, “Let’s carry on.”



The lawyers reassembled in the courtroom. Portia leaned forward and whispered to Jake, “What happened?”



“The judge has lost his mind, that’s all.”



Julina told her story to a breathless crowd. Her sudden promotion, the new passport, the trip to Mexico City with the boss, the luxury hotel with adjoining rooms, then the sex and the guilt. Back home, he fired her immediately and had her escorted out of the building. She sued, and Seth quickly settled out of court.



The testimony was not relevant to the will contest. It was scandalous and certainly memorable, but as Jake listened to it he became convinced Judge Atlee had blundered badly. The trial was lost, but the appeal was looking stronger by the hour. Jake would have a grand time exposing Wade Lanier’s trickery to the Supreme Court of Mississippi. He would take great satisfaction in finally getting Reuben V. Atlee reversed.



Jake admitted to himself that it was a lost cause if he was already thinking about the appeal. He quizzed Julina Kidd for a few minutes, just long enough to extract the admission that she was being paid to testify. She would not say how much—Lanier had obviously talked to her in time.



“So you swapped sex for money, and now it’s testimony for money, right, Ms. Kidd?” he asked. It was a harsh question, and as soon as he uttered it he wished he could take it back. She was only telling the truth.



She shrugged but didn’t respond, perhaps the classiest answer of the day.



At 5:30, Judge Atlee adjourned until Thursday morning. Jake stayed in the courtroom until long after everyone had left. He chatted quietly with Portia and Lettie, and tried in vain to assure them things were not as bad as they really were. It was a hopeless exercise.



He finally left as Mr. Pate was turning off the lights.



He did not stop by Judge Atlee’s office, as directed. Instead he went home. He needed some quiet time with the two people he loved the most, the two who would always think of him as the greatest lawyer in the world.



45