The Runaway jury by John Grisham

Author:John Grisham [Grisham, John]
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Legal, Legal stories, Romance, American, Fiction - Psychological Suspense, Jury, Biloxi (Miss.), Trials (Products liability), Trials (Product liability)
ISBN: 9780440221470
Publisher: New York : Island Books, 1997.
Published: 1997-01-15T04:00:00+00:00

The car became silent again. Napier parked it at a dock near Bay St. Louis, forty minutes from Biloxi. Hoppy followed Cristano down a pier and onto a deserted sixty-foot charter boat named Afternoon Delight. Nitchman and Napier waited by the car, out of sight.

"Sit down, Hoppy," Cristano said, pointing to a

298 JOHNGRISHAM

foam-padded bench on the deck. Hoppy sat. The boat rocked ever so slightly. The water was still. Cristano sat across from him and leaned forward so that their heads were three feet apart.

"Nice boat," Hoppy said, rubbing the imitation leather seat.

"It's not ours. Listen, Hoppy, you're not wired, are you?"

Instinctively, he bolted upright, shocked by the suggestion. "Of course not!"

"Sorry, but these things do happen. I guess I should frisk you." Cristano looked him up and down quickly. Hoppy was horrified at the thought of being fondled by this stranger, alone on a boat.

"I swear I am not wired, okay," Hoppy said, so firmly that he was proud of himself. Cristano's face relaxed. "You wanna frisk me?" he asked. Hoppy glanced around to see if anyone was within view. Look sorta odd, wouldn't it? Two grown men rubbing each other in broad daylight on an anchored boat?

"Are you wired?" Hoppy asked.

"No."

"Swear?"

"I swear."

"Good." Hoppy was relieved and quite anxious to believe the man. The alternative was simply unthinkable.

Cristano smiled then abruptly frowned. He leaned in. The small talk was over. "I'll be brief, Hoppy. We have a deal for you, a deal which will enable you to walk away from this without a scratch. Nothing. No arrest, no indictment, no trial, no prison. No face in the newspaper. In fact, Hoppy, no one will ever know."

He paused to catch his breath, and Hoppy charged in. "So far so good. I'm listening."

"It's a bizarre deal, one we've never attempted. Has nothing to do with law and justice and punishment, nothing like that. It's a political deal, Hoppy. Purely political. There'll be no record of it in Washington. No one will ever know, except for me, you, those two guys waiting by the car, and less than ten people deep inside Justice. We cut the deal, you do your part, and everything is forgotten."

"You got it. Just point me in the right direction."

"Are you concerned about crime, drugs, law and order, Hoppy?"

"Of course."

"Are you sick of graft and corruption?"

Odd question. At this very moment, Hoppy felt like the poster child for the campaign against corruption. "Yes!"

"There are good guys and bad guys in Washing-tori, Hoppy. There are those of us at Justice who've devoted our lives to fighting crime. I mean serious crime, Hoppy. I mean drug payoffs to judges and congressmen who take money from foreign enemies, criminal activity that could threaten (our democracy. Know what I mean?"

If Hoppy didn't know for sure, then he certainly was sympathetic to Cristano and his fine friends in Washington. "Yes, yes," he said, hanging'on every word.

"But everything's political these days, Hoppy. We're constantly fighting with Congress and we're fighting with the President. Do you know what we need in Washington, Hoppy?"

Whatever it was, Hoppy wanted them to have it.

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