Grisham, John - The Confession by Grisham John

Author:Grisham, John
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf

"It would not have worked, Keith," Robbie said. "The authorities here are useless. They would laugh at you. They have their man, the case is solved. Almost closed, I guess. Nobody in Missouri would lift a nger because there is no active investigation. You can't just cal a sheri and suggest that he and his boys go out in the woods and start digging somewhere down by the creek. It doesn't work that way."

"Then who looks for the body?" Keith asked.

"I guess we do."

"I'm going home, Robbie. My wife is barking at me. My lawyer friend thinks I'm crazy. I think I'm crazy. I've done my best. Boyet e's al yours. I'm sick of the guy."

"Relax, Keith. I need you right now."

"For what?"

"Just hang around, okay? Boyet e trusts you. Besides, when was the last time you had front-row seats at a race riot?"

"Not funny."

"Sit on the video, Robbie," Judge Henry said. "Show it to the court and to the governor, but don't make it public."

"I can control the video, but I cannot control Mr. Boyet e. If he wants to talk to the press, I can't stop him. God knows he's not my client."

- - -

By 2:30 Thursday afternoon, every church in Slone, black and white, was being guarded by preachers, deacons, and Sunday school teachers, al men, al heavily armed and visible. They sat on the front steps and chat ed anxiously, shotguns across their knees. They sat under shade trees near the streets, waving at the passing cars, many of which honked in solidarity. They patrol ed the rear doors and back property, smoking, chewing, watching for any movement. There would be no more church burnings in Slone.

The cot on gin had been abandoned two decades earlier when a newer one replaced it east of town. It was an eyesore, a badly decaying old building, and under normal circumstances a good re would have been welcomed. The 911 cal was recorded at 2:44. A teenager driving by saw heavy smoke and cal ed on her cel phone. The beleaguered remen rushed to the old gin, and by the time they arrived, the ames were roaring through the roof. Since it was an empty, abandoned building, and not a great loss anyway, they took their time.

The black smoke boiled into the sky. The mayor could see it from his second-story o ce, near the courthouse, and after consulting with the chief of police, he cal ed the governor's o ce. The situation in Slone was not likely to improve. The citizens were in danger. They needed the National Guard.

CHAPTER 23

The petition was nished just before 3:00 p.m., and with Boyet e's a davit included, it ran for thirty pages. Boyet e swore in writing that he was tel ing the truth, and Sammie Thomas e-mailed the petition to the Defender Group's o ce in Austin. The sta there was waiting. It was printed, copied twelve times, and handed o to Cicely Avis, who sprinted from the o ce, hopped in her car, and raced across town to the o ces of the Texas Court of Criminal Appeals.

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