Sycamore Row - John Grisham

handwriting that have been filed. Now, Mr. Lanier and Mr. Rush, do you plan to
seriously contend that this will was written by someone other than Seth Hubbard?” His
tone left little doubt about how he felt.
Rush and Lanier stood slowly, neither eager to respond. Lanier said, “Your Honor,
we’re still debating that point.”
“Well hurry up,” Judge Atlee said rudely. “It’s a waste and you’re wasting my time. A
blind man can see it’s his handwriting. Any expert who saunters into this courtroom and
says otherwise will be laughed at by the jury and scorned by the court.”
And with that, the handwriting issue was settled. They sat down. Lanier whispered to
his sidekick, Lester Chilcott, “What else has he already decided?”
Judge Atlee looked at Jake and growled, “Mr. Brigance, any progress in the search for
Ancil Hubbard? Five percent of this inventory is a lot of money.”
Well, no shit, Judge, Jake wanted to say as he was jolted out of another thought and
stood properly, though rattled. “Not really, Your Honor. The search has turned up very
little. It appears as though Ancil began using different names a long time ago. We’ve
found no proof that he’s dead, and certainly nothing to prove he’s alive.”
“Very well. Next on my list is a discussion about the jury pool. It’s been over eight
years since I presided over a trial involving a jury, and I admit to being a bit rusty. I’ve
spoken to Judge Noose, Judge Handleford, and others, so I’m getting good advice. They
seem to think a pool of one hundred will be sufficient. Gentlemen?”
Nothing.
“Good. I’ll instruct the clerk to pull that many names at random from the voter
registration rolls, and I’ll make the list available two weeks before trial, the same
procedure as in Circuit Court. There will be the standard precautions and warnings
against unauthorized contact with the potential jurors. This is a high-profile case,
gentlemen, and at times I’m almost convinced every person in this county already has
an opinion.”
Jake stood and said, “In that case, Your Honor, perhaps we should consider a change
of venue.”
“Requesting one is up to you, Mr. Brigance. I’ve seen nothing in writing.”
“I haven’t done so. I’m just speculating here. If most of our prospective jurors know
about the case, then it seems like moving the case might be the proper thing to do.”
“Mr. Lanier,” Judge Atlee said, looking at the other lawyers. “Mr. Rush. Mr. Zeitler.
Anybody?”
Wade Lanier straightened himself up with great frustration. “There’s never been a
change of venue in a will contest in Mississippi. Not a single case. We’ve done the
research.” Lester Chilcott was suddenly clawing his way through a thick briefcase. “And
it seems a bit broad to declare that everyone in this county has formed an opinion
before we’ve presented the evidence.” Chilcott handed him a thick brief. “Here it is, if
the court would like to take a look. Not a single case.”
Jake was impressed with the research; Judge Atlee less so. He said, “I’ll take your
word for it, for now. I’ll review the research later.”
Jake wasn’t serious about moving the case because he wanted it to stay in his