Sycamore Row - John Grisham

“Should I tell Judge Atlee?” Harry Rex shook his head, no.
“I don’t think so,” Lucien said. “The trial has started and it won’t be stopped for this.
Ancil has nothing to add. He damned sure can’t get there, what with a cracked skull and
the cocaine thing waiting just outside his door. Poor guy’ll probably serve some time
eventually. The cops seem determined.”
“Did you guys climb the family trees?”
“Yes, quite a bit, but long before he came clean. I laid out the history of the Hubbard
and Rinds families, with emphasis on the mystery of Sylvester. But he had little interest.
I’ll try again tomorrow. I’m thinking about leaving tomorrow afternoon. I really want
to see some of the trial. I’m sure you’ll have it all screwed up by the time I get there.”
“No doubt, Lucien,” Jake said, and hung up a moment later. He relayed the
conversation to Portia and Harry Rex, who, though intrigued by it, had other matters at
hand. The fact that Ancil Hubbard was alive and living in Alaska would mean nothing
in the courtroom.
The phone rang again and Jake grabbed it. Willie Traynor said, “Say, Jake, just for
your information, there’s a guy on the jury who shouldn’t be there.”
“It’s probably too late, but I’m listening.”
“He’s on the back row, name’s Doley, Frank Doley.” Jake had seen Willie taking notes
throughout the day. “Okay, so what’s Frank up to?” Jake asked.
“He has a distant cousin who lives in Memphis. Six or seven years ago, this cousin’s
fifteen-year-old daughter was snatched by some black punks outside a mall in East
Memphis. They kept her in a van for several hours. Terrible things happened. The girl
survived but was too messed up to identify anyone. No one was ever arrested. Two
years later the girl committed suicide. A real tragedy.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“I didn’t catch the name until an hour ago. I was in Memphis at the time, and I
remembered some Doleys from Ford County. You’d better get him bumped, Jake.”
“It’s not that easy. In fact, it’s impossible at this point. He was quizzed by the lawyers
and the judge and gave all the right answers.” Frank Doley was forty-three years old
and owned a roofing company out near the lake. He claimed to know nothing about the
Seth Hubbard matter and seemed perfectly open-minded.
Thanks for nothing, Willie.
Willie said, “Sorry, Jake, but it didn’t register in court. I would have said something.”
“It’s okay. I’ll deal with it somehow.”
“Other than Doley, what do you think of your jury?”
Jake was talking to a journalist, so he played it safe. “A good panel,” he said. “Gotta
run.”
Harry Rex’s response was, “I was worried about that guy. Something wasn’t right.”
To which Jake shot back, “Well, I don’t recall you saying anything at the time. It’s
always easy to call plays on Monday morning.”
“Testy, testy.”
Portia said, “He seemed eager to serve. I gave him an eight.”
Jake said, “Well, we’re stuck with him. He gave all the right answers.”