Russell said, “If you object to our fees, Pete, you can always hire someone else. There are other lawyers in town. We’re just doing our best to protect you.”
“Come on, boys,” Pete said. “You’ve always taken care of me and my family. I have no gripe with what you want, but it may take some time to round up the money.”
Both John and Russell strongly suspected that Pete could write the check with ease, but he was, after all, a farmer, and as a breed they enjoyed squeezing a nickel. And the lawyers were sympathetic too, because in all likelihood he would never farm again and would either die soon in the electric chair or much later in some awful prison hospital. His future was worse than bleak, and they couldn’t blame him for trying to save all the money possible.
A secretary tapped on the door and entered with an elegant coffee service. She filled three porcelain cups and offered cream and sugar. Pete deliberately mixed his blend, took a sip, and stubbed out a cigarette.
When she was gone, John said, “Okay, moving right along. We have another motion we need to discuss. Our only possible defense is one based on temporary insanity. If you’re found not guilty, and that’s highly unlikely, it will be because we can convince the jury that you were not thinking rationally when you pulled the trigger.”
“I’ve already told you that I don’t want that.”
“And I heard you, Pete, but it’s not just about what you want. It’s more of what’s available to us at trial. Insanity is all we have. Period. Take away insanity, and all we can do is sit in the courtroom and listen like spectators while the prosecutor strings you up. Is that what you want?”
Pete shrugged as if he didn’t care and said, “Do what you gotta do, but I will not pretend to be insane.”
Russell said, “We’ve found a psychiatrist in Memphis who’s willing to examine you and testify on your behalf at trial. He’s well-known and is effective in these situations.”
“Well, he must be a first-class kook if he’ll say I’m crazy,” Pete said with a smile, as if somewhat humorous. Neither lawyer returned the smile. John sipped his coffee while Russell lit another cigarette. The air was not only thick with smoke but heavy with tension. The lawyers were doing their best but their client didn’t seem to appreciate either their work or his own predicament.
John cleared his throat again and shifted his weight. “So, to recap where we are, Pete, we have no defense, no excuses, no explanation for what happened, and no chance of moving the trial to a less hostile environment. And you’re okay with all this?”
Pete shrugged and said nothing.
John began pinching his forehead as if in pain. A full moment passed without a sound. Finally, Russell said, “There is one other matter, Pete, something you should be aware of. We’ve done some digging into Dexter Bell’s background and found a matter of interest. Eight years ago, when he was pastoring a church in a small town in Louisiana, there was a problem. The church had a young secretary, twenty years old and newly married, and there appears to have been some type of relationship between the girl and her pastor. Lots of rumors and not many facts, but Bell was soon reassigned. The secretary and her husband moved to Texas.”
John added, “Obviously, we haven’t dug that deep, and it may be impossible to prove anything of value. It appears as though the matter was kept under tight wraps.”
“Can that come into court here?” Pete asked.
“Not without some additional evidence. Do you want us to pursue it?”
“No, not on my behalf. It’s not to be mentioned in my trial.”
“May I ask why not, Pete?” John asked with a frown. “You’re giving us absolutely nothing to work with here.” Russell rolled his eyes again and seemed ready to leave the room.
“I said no,” Pete repeated. “And don’t bring it up again.”
Proof that Dexter Bell was a philanderer would likely be excluded at trial, but it would certainly help explain the motive for his murder. If he had a wandering eye, and if it caught the attention of Liza Banning when she was mourning the loss of her husband, then the great mystery would be solved. But it was now apparent that Pete had no interest in solving it. He would take his secrets to his grave.
John said, “Well, Pete, it’s going to be a very short trial. We have no defense, no witnesses to call, nothing to argue in front of the jury. We should be in and out in a day or so.”
“If that long,” Russell said.
“So be it,” Pete said.
Chapter 11
Three days before Christmas, Joel stepped onto a train at Union Station in downtown Nashville, and waiting for him in a dining car was his lovely and fashionable sister. Stella was now nineteen, only eighteen months younger than her brother, but during the past semester she had grown from a late-blooming teenager into a beautiful young woman. She seemed taller, and her skinny figure had developed some pleasant curves, which he couldn’t help but notice. She looked older, fuller, and wiser, and when she lit a cigarette she reminded Joel of an actress straight from the big screen.
“When did you start smoking?” he asked. The train was rolling out of the city and heading south. They were at a dining table with cups of coffee in front of them. Waiters hustled about taking lunch orders.
“I’ve been sneaking since I was sixteen,” she said. “Same as you. At college, most girls come out into the open when they turn twenty, though it’s still frowned upon. I was going to quit, and then Pete got trigger-happy. Now I’m smoking more than ever to settle my nerves.”
“You should quit.”
“What about you?”
“I need to quit too. It’s great to see you, sis. Let’s not begin our little trip talking about Pete.”
“Begin? I’ve been on this train for six hours. We left Roanoke at five this morning.”
They ordered lunch and iced tea and talked for an hour about college life: courses, favorite professors, friends, plans for the future, and the challenge of going about their days as if things were normal while having both parents locked away. When they caught themselves dwelling on family, they immediately changed the subject and talked about the upcoming year. Joel had been accepted to law school at Vanderbilt but wanted a change of scenery. He had also been accepted at Ole Miss, but that was only an hour from Clanton and, given the circumstances, seemed far too close to home.
Stella was halfway through her sophomore year and eager to move on. She loved Hollins but longed for the anonymity of a big city. At college, everyone knew her and now knew about her father. She wanted strangers in her life, people who didn’t know or care where she was from. On the romantic front, there wasn’t much activity. Over the Thanksgiving break she’d met a boy in D.C. and they had gone dancing twice and to the movies once. He was a student at Georgetown, had a nice family and all, appeared to be well groomed and mannered, and he was writing her letters, but there was really no spark. She’d string him along for another month or so, then break his heart. Joel reported even more tepid progress. A few dates here and there but none worth talking about. He claimed he really wasn’t in the market, what with three years of law school on the horizon. He had always vowed to remain single until his thirtieth birthday.