"What about your mother?" asked Harry Rex.

"She was one of those dignified old Southern ladies whose main concern was who had blue blood and who didn't. There's not much blue blood around here, so she . spent most of her time in Memphis trying to impress and be accepted by the cotton families. I spent a good part of my childhood at the Peabody Hotel all starched out with a little red bow tie, trying to act polished around the rich kids from Memphis. I hated it, and I didn't care much for my mother either. She knew about Ethel, but she accepted it. She told the old man to be discreet and not embarrass the family. He was discreet, and I wound up with a retarded half-brother."

"When did she die?"

"Six months before my father was killed in the plane crash."

"How'd she die?" asked Harry Rex.

"Gonorrhea. Caught it from the yard boy."

"Lucien! Seriously?"

"Cancer. Carried it for three years, but she was dignified to the very end."

"Where'd you go wrong?" Jake asked.

"I think it started in the first grade. My uncle owned the big plantation south of town, and he owned several black families. This was in the Depression, right? I spent most of my childhood there because my father was too busy right here in this office and my mother was too busy with her hot-tea-drinkers clubs. All of my playmates were black. I'd been raised by black servants. My best friend was Willie Ray Wilbanks. No kidding. My great-grandfather purchased his great-grandfather. And when the slaves were freed, most of them just kept the family name. What were they supposed to do? That's why you've got so many black Wilbankses around here. We owned all the slaves in Ford County, and most of them became Wilbankses."

"You're probably kin to some," Jake said.

"Given the proclivities of my forefathers, I'm probably kin to all of them."

The phone rang. They froze and stared at it. Jake sat up and held his breath. Harry Rex picked up the receiver, then hung up. "Wrong number," he said.

They studied each other, then smiled.

"Anyway, back to the first grade," Jake said.

"Okay. When it came time to start school, Willie Ray and the rest of my little buddies got on the bus headed for the black school. I jumped on the bus too, and the driver very carefully took my hand and made me get off. I cried and screamed, and my uncle took me home and told my mother, 'Lucien got on the nigger school bus.' She was horrified, and beat my little ass. The old man beat me too, but years later admitted it was funny. So I went to the white school where I was always the little rich kid. Everybody hated the little rich kid, especially in a poor town like Clanton. Not that I was lovable to begin with, but everyone got a kick out of hating me just because we had money. That's why I've never thought much of money. That's where the nonconformity started. In the first grade. I decided not to be like my mother because she frowned all the time and looked down on the world. And my old man was always too busy to enjoy himself. I said piss on it. I'm gonna have some fun."

Jake stretched and closed his eyes.

"Nervous?" Lucien asked.

"I just want it to be over."

The phone rang again, and Lucien grabbed it. He listened, then hung up.

"What is it?" Harry Rex demanded.

Jake sat up and glared at Lucien. The moment had arrived.

"Jean Gillespie. The jury is ready."

"Oh my God," Jake said as he rubbed his temples.

"Listen to me, Jake," Lucien lectured. "Millions of people will see what is about to happen. Keep your cool. Be careful what you say."

"What about me?" Harry Rex moaned. "I need to go vomit."

"That's strange advice coming from you, Lucien," Jake said as he buttoned Stan's coat.

"I've learned a lot. Show your class. If you win, watch what you say to the press. Be sure and thank the jury. If you lose-"

"If you lose," Harry Rex said, "run like hell, because those niggers will storm the courthouse."

"I feel weak," Jake admitted.

Agee took the platform on the front steps and announced the jury was ready. He asked for quiet, and instantly the mob grew still. They moved toward the front columns. Agee asked them to fall to their knees and pray. They knelt obediently and prayed earnestly. Every man, woman, and child on the front lawn bowed before God and begged him to let their man go.

The soldiers stood bunched together and also prayed for an acquittal.

Ozzie and Moss Junior seated the courtroom and lined deputies and reserves around the walls and down the aisle. Jake entered from the holding room and stared at Carl Lee at the defense table. He glanced at the spectators. Many were praying. Many were biting their fingers. Gwen was wiping tears. Lester looked fearfully at Jake. The children were confused and scared.

Noose assumed the bench and an electrified silence engulfed the courtroom. There was no sound from the outside. Twenty thousand blacks knelt on the ground like Muslims. Perfect stillness inside the courtroom and out.

"I have been advised that the jury has reached a verdict, is that correct, Mr. Bailiff? Very well. We will soon seat the jury, but before we do so I have some instructions. I will not tolerate any outbursts or displays of emotion. I will direct the sheriff to remove any person who creates a disturbance. If need be, I will clear the courtroom. Mr. Bailiff, will you seat the jury."

The door opened, and it seemed like an hour before Eula Dell Yates appeared first with tears in her eyes. Jake dropped his head. Carl Lee stared gamely at the portrait of Robert E. Lee above Noose. They awkwardly filled the jury

box. They seemed jittery, tense, scared. Most had been crying. Jake felt sick. Barry Acker held a piece of paper that attracted the attention of everyone.

"Ladies and gentlemen, have you reached a verdict?"

"Yes, sir, we have," answered the foreman in a high-pitched, nervous voice.

"Hand it to the clerk, please."

Jean Gillespie took it and handed it to His Honor, who studied it forever. "It is technically in order," he finally said.

Eula Dell was flooding, and her sniffles were the only sounds in the courtroom. Jo Ann Gates and Bernice Toole padded their eyes with handkerchiefs. The crying could mean only one thing. Jake had vowed to ignore the jury before the verdict was read, but it was impossible. In his first criminal trial, the jurors had smiled as they took their seats. At that moment, Jake had become confident of an acquittal. Seconds later he learned that the smiles were because a criminal was about to be removed from the streets. Since that trial, he had vowed never to look at the jurors. But he always did. It would be nice to see a wink or a thumbs up, but that never happened.

Noose looked at Carl Lee. "Will the defendant please rise."

Jake knew there were probably more terrifying requests known to the English tongue, but to a criminal lawyer that request at that particular moment had horrible implications. His client stood awkwardly, pitifully. Jake closed his eyes and held his breath. His hands shook and his stomach ached.

Noose handed the verdict back to Jean Gillespie. "Please read it, Madam Clerk."

She unfolded it and faced the defendant. "As to each count of the indictment, we the jury find the defendant not guilty by reason of insanity."

Carl Lee turned and bolted for the railing. Tonya and the boys sprang from the front pew and grabbed him. The courtroom exploded in pandemonium. Gwen screamed and burst into tears. She buried her head in Lester's arms. The reverends stood, looked upward, and shouted "Hallelujah!" and "Praise Jesus!" and "Lord! Lord! Lord!"

Noose's admonition meant nothing. He rapped the gavel half-heartedly and said, "Order, order, order in the

seemed content to allow a little celebration.

Jake was numb, lifeless, paralyzed. His only movement was a weak smile in the direction of the jury box. His eyes watered and his lip quivered, and he decided not to make a spectacle of himself. He nodded at Jean Gillespie, who was crying, and just sat at the defense table nodding and trying to smile, unable to do anything else. From the corner of his eye he could see Musgrove and Buckley removing files, legal pads, and important-looking papers, and throwing it all into their briefcases. Be gracious, he told himself.

A teenager darted between two deputies, through the door, and ran through the rotunda screaming "Not guilty! Not guilty!" He ran to a small balcony over the front _steps and screamed to the masses below "Not guilty! Not guilty!" Bedlam erupted.

"Order, order in the court," Noose was saying when the delayed reaction from the outside came thundering through the windows.

"Order, order in the courtroom." He tolerated the excitement for another minute, then asked the sheriff to restore order. Ozzie raised his hands and spoke. The clapping, hugging and praising died quickly. Carl Lee released his children and returned to the defense table. He sat close to his attorney and put his arm around him, grinning and crying at the same time.

Noose smiled at the defendant. "Mr. Hailey, you have been tried by a jury of your peers and found not guilty. I do not recall any expert testimony that you are now dangerous or in need of further psychiatric treatment. You are a free man."

His Honor looked at the attorneys. "If there is nothing further, this court will stand adjourned until August 15."

Carl Lee was smothered by his family and friends. They hugged him, hugged each other, hugged Jake. They wept unashamedly and praised the Lord. They told Jake they loved him.

The reporters pressed against the railing and began firing questions at Jake. He held up his hands, and said he would have no comment. But there would be a full-blown press conference in his office at 2:00 P.M.

Buckley and Musgrove left through a side door. The jurors were locked in the jury room to await the last bus ride to the motel. Barry Acker asked to speak to the sheriff. Oz-zie met him in the hallway, listened intently, and promised to escort him home and provide protection around the clock.

The reporters assaulted Carl Lee. "I just wanna go home," he said over and over. "I just wanna go home."

The celebration kicked into high gear on the front lawn. There was singing, dancing, crying, back-slapping, hugging, thanks-giving, congratulating, outright laughing, cheering, chanting, high fives, low fives, and soul brother shakes. The heavens were praised in one glorious, tumultuous, irreverent jubilee. They packed closer together in front of the courthouse and waited impatiently for their hero to emerge and bask in his much deserved adulation.