Sycamore Row - John Grisham

Jake wanted to throw a hatchet at him. Lanier did not play by the rules but he was quite
adept at legitimizing his cheating.
For Wade Lanier, it was a crucial moment. Buried in the list of forty-five was the
name Julina Kidd, the only black woman Randall Clapp had found so far who was
willing to testify and admit she’d slept with Seth. For $5,000 plus expenses, she had
agreed to travel to Clanton and testify. She had also agreed to ignore phone calls or any
contact from any other lawyer, namely one Jake Brigance, who might show up
desperately sniffing around for clues.
Not buried in the list was Fritz Pickering; his name had not been mentioned, nor
would it be until a critical moment in the trial.
Judge Atlee asked Jake, “How many depositions have you taken?”
Jake replied, “Together, we’ve taken thirty depositions.”
“Sounds like a lot to me. And they’re not cheap. Mr. Lanier, surely you don’t plan to
call forty-five witnesses.”
“Of course not, Your Honor, but the rules require us to list all potential witnesses. I
may not know until we’re in the middle of the trial who I need next on the stand. This is
the flexibility the rules contemplate.”
“I understand that. Mr. Brigance, how many witnesses do you plan to call?”
“Approximately fifteen, Your Honor.”
“Well, I can tell you fellas right now I’m not going to subject the jury, or myself, to
the testimony of sixty witnesses. At the same time, I’m not inclined to restrict who you
may or may not call at trial. Just make sure all witnesses are disclosed to the other side.
Mr. Brigance, you have all the names and you have two weeks to dig.”
Jake shook his head in frustration. The old Chancellor couldn’t help but revert to his
old ways. Jake asked, “Then would it be possible to require the attorneys to submit a
brief overview of what each witness might say on the stand? This seems only fair, Your
Honor.”
“Mr. Lanier?”
“I’m not sure how fair it is, Your Honor. Just because we’ve hustled our butts off and
found a bunch of witnesses Mr. Brigance has never heard of doesn’t mean we should be
required to tell him what they might say. Let him do the work.” The tone was
condescending, almost insulting, and for a split second Jake felt like a slacker.
“I agree,” Judge Atlee said. Lanier shot Jake a look of contemptuous victory as he
walked by him and sat down again.
The PTC dragged on as they discussed the expert witnesses and what they might say.
Jake was irritated at Judge Atlee and did not try to hide his feelings. The highlight of
the meeting was the distribution of the jury list, and the judge saved it for last. It was
almost noon when a clerk distributed it. “There are ninety-seven names,” Atlee said,
“and they’ve been screened for everything but age. As you know, some folks over the
age of sixty-five do not want to be exempted from service, so I’ll let you gentlemen
handle that during selection.”
The lawyers scanned the names, looking for friendly ones, sympathetic ones, smart
folks who would instantly side with them and bring back the right verdict. Atlee went