Suzanne made a note with her free hand, while the other brandished a fresh Marlboro. “We’ll talk to this Reynolds fellow, see if he can fill in some of the blanks.”
Mrs. Greene spoke again. “If Lee doesn’t remember doing anything wrong, how can they put him in jail?”
Lee’s head dropped, and he heaved a sigh. He knew the answer, even if his mother didn’t.
Suzanne said, “Honey, if you think that’s a defense to murder, you’re wrong.”
Mrs. Greene gasped and covered her mouth with a handkerchief. Mr. Greene squeezed his wife’s hand and asked, “This trumped-up charge about a streetwalker overdosing on drugs—how serious can they be? What kind of penalty are we looking at, Suzanne?”
“Brother Lee, they’ve charged it as capital murder.”
“But—a dead prostitute, for God’s sake. What’s the maximum penalty?”
I lowered my eyes so I wouldn’t have to see the faces of Lee’s parents when Suzanne answered.
“Death.”
Chapter 35
THE OFFICE SMELLED smoky after the Greenes departed. I opened the windows over my sofa bed, hoping the fresh air would clear the lobby.
The effect was not immediate. I popped a nugget of nicotine gum and headed back to the courthouse, thinking I’d give the office a little time to air out.
I cruised past security and was surprised to see Thomas Lafayette sitting on a wooden bench in the courthouse lobby, reading a newspaper. I walked over to say hello, since I had time to kill.
“Hey, Lafayette. Is this the new annex for the DA’s office?”
He looked up from the paper and made a face. “My clerk came down with a stomach bug. Didn’t make it to the bathroom. They’re cleaning the carpet.” He turned a page of the paper. “I wouldn’t go in there for a while if I was you.”
“Enough said.” I sat beside him on the bench and pulled out my phone to check my email.
The DA nudged me with his elbow. “You made the paper again.”
I hadn’t seen it. I wanted to play it cool, but I was curious. “Which one?”
“Vicksburg. It’s got a picture.”
“Of me?” I leaned over to look, ignoring Lafayette’s mocking snort.
“No, it’s not your picture; it’s your client. Lee Greene Junior, the prince of Mississippi.”
He held the open page wide for me to see. “It’s a before-and-after shot.”
The images on the page made me wince. Next to a black-and-white professional head shot of Lee, the paper had run a color shot of him in handcuffs in his orange jail scrubs, escorted into court by two Vicksburg policemen.
“Lord help us. I hope Lee doesn’t see that. It will drive him crazy.”
“He’s bound to see it. That picture has run in papers all over the state.”
I made a face, pretending disinterest. “I wouldn’t know.”
He folded the paper and looked at me with a wrinkled brow. “You mean you’re not following the media coverage on this?”
I shrugged. “Not really. I’m super busy.”
He stood so abruptly, I looked up in surprise. Tucking the paper under his arm, he started to walk away. Then he paused, turned around, and came back to the bench where I sat.
Lafayette tossed the folded newspaper in my lap. “You should be cataloguing it.”
“What?” I tried to hand the paper back to him, but he wouldn’t accept it. “Why?”
With a hiss of disgust, he shook his head. “Why I have to counsel a defense attorney on strategy, I swear I do not know.” He took a step closer and whispered. “Venue.”
“Venue,” I repeated.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “Is that where you want the case to be tried? In Vicksburg, where they’ve followed the case in the press every day?”
Finally, I got it. The DA was right. We needed a change of venue to get the case transferred out of Vicksburg and into another county, where we could get a jury panel that hadn’t been exposed to so much pretrial publicity. I opened my briefcase and stuffed the newspaper inside.
I needed to initiate an internet search for all the news stories on Lee and the Vicksburg murder case. So that we could get the trial out of Vicksburg.
Lafayette was walking toward the staircase. I jumped off the bench and caught up with him.
“Suzanne Greene probably has already thought of that. The change of venue.”
He ignored me and started to climb the stairs. I took them two at a time so that I could block his path.
Standing in front of him on the stairway, I said, “But I appreciate the advice. What I’m curious about, Lafayette, is why you’d lend me a hand. Why are you helping me out?”
I searched his face as we stood, waiting for an answer. Finally, he spoke.
“Do you know who y’all will be going up against in this case?”
I paused, confused. “At the arraignment, the DA’s office sent a guy I remember from law school. So maybe he’s handling it.”
Lafayette snorted again at my reply, and dropped his voice. “Isaac Keet. Keet will prosecute this case for the DA’s office in Vicksburg. Keet is going to eat you alive.”
A chill ran through me, even though I’d never met the man. Keeping my voice nonchalant, I said, “He won’t be able to intimidate Suzanne Greene. She’s the toughest litigator in the state.”
Speaking in a whisper, he said, “It’s personal for Keet. He despises people like Lee Greene.”
“What do you mean, people like Lee?” But I had a sneaking suspicion.
“You know. The old family name, old money, privileged southern white man. He’ll try to cut him down to size.”
He swung past me and continued up the stairs. To his back, I asked: “Yeah? How can you be so sure?”
“Because he’s done it to me.”
Chapter 36
IN THE PAST, Thomas Lafayette hadn’t always shot straight with me. But he was right about one thing.
Isaac Keet, the Vicksburg DA, was good. Terribly good.
When we appeared in the Warren County courtroom before Judge Ashley on defendant’s motion for change of venue, Keet commanded the courtroom from the outset. He walked into court with erect military bearing, marched up to our counsel table, and tossed Suzanne’s motion next to her coffee cup.
“Ms. Greene, you injure me. Do you really believe your client can’t get a fair trial in Warren County?”
Suzanne gave him a measured glance over her glasses. “I’m dead certain he can’t, Mr. Keet. And I’ll prove it to the satisfaction of the court.”
She placed a hand on my shoulder. “Mr. Keet, this is my co-counsel, Ruby Bozarth. I don’t think y’all have met.”
I stuck out my hand and he shook it briefly. Though I started to say I was pleased to meet him, he cut me off before I could finish uttering the pleasantry.
To Suzanne, he said, “Will your client be in court today?”
“He’s sitting two rows back, with his mama and daddy. Mr. Greene will come to the table when the hearing begins.”
Isaac Keet looked over our heads to the row occupied by the Greene family. With the ghost of a smile, he said, “Well, I’ll be. Sure wouldn’t have recognized him from his mug shot.”
As he turned away, I heard Lee’s mother speak in her warbling soprano. “Who was that black man? The one talking to Suzanne?”
A whispered hiss sounded in response, then I heard her speak again, her voice spiking in shock. “He’s the district attorney?”
Mrs. Greene’s voice carried like an opera singer’s. I fervently wished that her family would shut her up or leave her at home.
Mrs. Greene was interrupted by the judge’s appearance. Judge Ashley was a veteran of the bench. I’d done a little homework to get some background on him: he was over sixty and had served as judge for nearly twenty years. His thin hair was combed straight back over his scalp and looked as if he might have touched it up with Clairol for Men.
Suzanne took the lead in the hearing, introducing copies of articles from the Vicksburg Post and playing recordings of news stories regarding the murder case that had run on the local television channels. Isaac Keet tried to object, claiming she had improperly laid the foundation for one of the videos, but Suzanne won that fight. The judge admitted the evidence.