Between Black and White (McMurtrie and Drake Legal Thrillers #2)(73)
Surprised but grateful for the gesture, Rick paused so that the jury could take in the moment. All twelve sets of eyes were now trained on the defendant’s wife, and Millie Sanderson appeared to smile without opening her mouth. All it takes is one, Rick thought, knowing that for Bo to be found guilty the jury’s verdict had to be unanimous. If just one juror held to a belief that Bo was innocent, the court would declare the case a mistrial and Bo would win. Rick sensed, as Ray Ray had suggested, that Millie was the soft spot in the jury pool.
After several seconds Rick cleared his throat and returned his eyes to the jury. “For the past ten years Bo Haynes has made every single edition of Super Lawyers magazine as one of the top fifty attorneys in the state of Tennessee.” Rick walked to the defense table, and Tom handed him the magazine. “In fact, in 2006 he made the cover of Super Lawyers.” Rick held the magazine up for the jurors to see. It was a picture of Bo in a charcoal-gray pinstripe suit, standing in the exact spot where Rick now stood. In the well of the jury. “The cover reads ‘Pulaski’s Bocephus Haynes: Bulldog for Justice.’” Rick paused, hoping the words sunk in. “In addition to summarizing Bo’s heroics in the courtroom, this article goes into great length about why Bo came back to Pulaski. Bo is quoted as saying ‘I came back to Pulaski because I wanted to make sure the men who murdered my father were brought to justice. I won’t rest until every single one of them is in jail.’”
Rick set the magazine back on the table and again faced the jury. “Bo Haynes has never hidden why he came home. But General Lewis has the terminology wrong. Bo didn’t come back for revenge. He came back for justice. Bo is a lawyer. One of the very best in this state. He, more than anyone else, knows that justice is done in a courtroom. Justice . . . is delivered by you.” Rick held out his palms to the jury. “Bo’s mission has always been for the men who lynched his father to be brought to answer before you. And while making a living and raising a family in Pulaski these past twenty-five years, Bo has tirelessly investigated the circumstances of his father’s death, trying to do just that.”
Rick paused and walked closer to the defense table. “Bocephus Haynes is innocent. As he sits in this courtroom and throughout this trial, Bocephus Haynes is innocent. He is innocent and will remain innocent until the prosecution”—Rick pointed at Helen Lewis for emphasis—“proves to each and every one of you beyond a reasonable doubt that he murdered Andy Walton in cold blood on the morning of August 19, 2011. I am confident that the state will not be able to meet its burden.”
Rick approached the jury. “What General Lewis spent the majority of her time talking about was motive. The prosecution asks you to believe that Bo Haynes, a man who has spent a lifetime practicing law in this very courtroom, took the law into his own hands.” Rick paused, glaring at the prosecution table while he continued. “What the prosecution chooses to ignore is that there were other men with motive to kill Andy Walton.” Rick let that teaser hang in the air for a second before turning to face the jury. “One of the last people to see Andy Walton alive was Darla Ford, a dancer at the Sundowners Club. Darla will take the witness stand and tell you that just two weeks prior to Andy Walton’s murder, Mr. Walton told her that he intended to confess to the 1966 lynching of Haynes’s father. That left fourteen days for any one of the other Klansmen who helped Andy Walton murder Roosevelt Haynes in 1966 to take the law into his own hands again. To silence Andy Walton and frame Bo Haynes for the crime.”
Rick took a couple of steps back, letting the information sink in. “I ask you to hear all of the evidence before you make up your mind. There are two sides to this story. Two very different sides.” He paused. “And two victims. Andy Walton . . . and Bocephus Haynes. Thank you.”
Rick gave a slight bow and walked back to the defense table. Under the table he felt Bo nudge him with his knee.
“Great job,” Bo whispered.
Rick turned to his left, but Ray Ray was staring straight ahead into space. Over Ray Ray’s shoulder, Rick caught the Professor’s eye, who nodded his approval, and Rick nodded back. He had planted every seed they had. Now it was up to the witnesses to bring in the crop.
“General Lewis,” Judge Connelly said, interrupting Rick’s thoughts, “please call your first witness.”
55
Emanual’s Stop is the local Greyhound bus station in Ethridge, Tennessee. It sits on Highway 43—right in the heart of Amish country.
Deputy Hank Springfield leaned against his squad car out in front of the station and spoke in clipped tones to Detective Wade Richey and Powell Conrad. Hank was wired, having barely slept the night before. The tape that Lonnie Dupree had retained at the bus stop in Pulaski showed Martha Booher arriving there at 8:45 a.m. the previous Friday. By looking at the bus schedule, Hank, with Lonnie’s help, had determined that the bus Booher had taken would have embarked from Ethridge that morning at 8:00 a.m., with stops in Pulaski, Franklin, and Nashville.
“So you’re thinking that if she caught a bus here”—Powell paused to gesture at the farms located on both sides of the highway, some of which were currently being tilled by Amish men—“she has to be here. Why would she come here to catch a bus? I can see why she might want to stop here, especially if she was a tourist. But why would she start her journey here at eight in the morning unless . . . ?” He held out his palms.