Grass Roots (7 page)

“I got him down here just as fast as the car would take me.”

“I know you did,” Will replied soothingly.

“You did exactly right. You probably saved his life.” “Oh, I hope so,” Jasper said.

“I’m not ready to let go of that man.”

The group stood silently for another ten minutes as Ben Carr struggled on. Once, Will counted thirty seconds after the Senator exhaled before he inhaled again. Miss. Emmy still sat, holding her brother’s hand, now oblivious to the others.

Finally, the doctor motioned Will and the Governor from the room. In the hallway he turned to Will.

“She’s a handful, you know.” He nodded toward the room.

“I know,” Will said.

“Don’t you pay no attention to that old woman,” the Governor said.

“She’s crazy as a bat.”

“I’m not sure she’s competent to make judgments about his treatment,” the doctor said.

“I don’t think she is,” Will agreed.

“Humor her as best you can, but please consult me if any decisions have to be made.”

“I’ve never treated the Senator,” the doctor said, “so, of course, I haven’t been able to get a history. Who is his regular physician?”

“The Senate doctor and Walter Reed Hospital have taken care of him for years,” Will said.

“He had a physical only yesterday, so you can get an up-to-date history from the hospital. I know that his blood pressure was up, but I don’t know how much. They had prescribed some medication, but I don’t think he would even have had time to have the prescription filled.”

“I’ll check with them immediately,” the doctor said.

He frowned at Will.

“You look pretty tired. Will you be staying at the hospital?”

“Yes.”

The doctor nodded at a room next door to the Senator’s.

“The other state patrolman is sleeping in there. There’s another bed, so why don’t you get some rest. I’ll call you if anything changes.

There’s really nothing you can do right now.”

Will nodded.

“Thank you. I’d appreciate it if you could find someplace for the Senator’s driver to rest, too. He won’t leave the hospital while the Senator is in danger.”

“Of course; I’ll have a nurse attend to it.” The doctor left to call Walter Reed, and the Governor stuck his arm in Will’s and walked him down the hall toward where the patrol car waited.

“I don’t think there’s anything I can do here,” he said, “so I’m going on back to Atlanta. I’ve got a full schedule tomorrow morning.”

“Of course. MacK,” Will said.

“I’ll call you if there’s any change.”

They passed through the emergency-room door, and the Governor stopped on the sidewalk outside.

“Will,” he said, “about my conversation with the Senator this afternoon.”

He looked around him and sniffed the chill night air.

“I don’t want you to have any false hopes, so I’d better tell you now that I intend to appoint myself to the vacant seat.” He stopped and waited for Will to reply.

Will said nothing.

“I’d like you to stay on in your job,” MacK Dean said.

“I know you’re good at it, and I’m going to need you.”

He waited again for Will to reply.

“Well?” he asked finally.

Will gazed into the pale, puffy face. He wanted to hit the man, not because Dean preferred himself to Will as an appointee, but because he was already trading for Ben Carr’s position and staff and, most of all, power. Will turned and walked back into the hospital. it was ten o’clock on Sunday evening before Will remembered that he had a preliminary hearing to attend the following morning. He had spent the day fielding telephone calls from everybody from The New York Times to the President of the United States and trying to deal with Miss. Emmy. At mid-afternoon, he and Dr. Daniels had visited the probate judge, who knew Emma Carr well, and obtained a temporary order placing the Senator’s affairs in Will’s hands.

Now he had to turn his attention to the defense of Larry Moody, at least until he could talk to Judge Boggs, who, under the circumstances, would assign another lawyer.

Checking his notes, he called Larry Moody’s boss, John Morgan, of Morgan & Morgan Heating and Air-Conditioning, in La Grange. Morgan had already heard about the arrest and had been to see Moody in jail.

“You just tell me what I can do, Mr. Lee,” Morgan said.

“That boy is the best man I’ve got, that’s why I sent him over there to handle Greenville.” “Well, I can try to get him out on bail,” Will said, “but he doesn’t have any money or property to speak of.”

“What would you need?” Morgan asked.

“I expect the Judge would want at least fifty thousand dollars, maybe a hundred, if he’ll set bail at all.”

“I’ve got property worth a lot more than that,” Morgan said.

“Then be at the Meriwether County Courthouse tomorrow morning at ten,” Will said, “and bring a deed.”

“I’ll be there,” Morgan said.

“You have to realize, Mr. Morgan, that even if Larry is out of jail, a lot of people won’t want a man accused of murder in their houses fixing their furnaces.”

“I’m not worried about that,” Morgan said.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

Will hung up. If Larry Moody’s boss would do that for him, it made him feel better about his client. He began to regret having to give up the case. He’d try to help find somebody good to replace him. He looked up to see the doctor coming toward him.

“I’ve just checked him again,” Daniels said.

“His breathing is normal now; he’s out of Cheyne-Stokes, and that’s good. He’s still in critical condition, but he seems a little more stable.” “That’s good,” Will said, scribbling his telephone numbers on a card.

“I’ve got to be in court tomorrow morning. I’ll be reachable for the most part, but if for any reason you can’t find me, rely on Jasper’s judgment. He’s been taking care of the Senator for a long time.”

“All right,” the doctor replied.

“I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon,” Will said.

it was after two in the morning before Will was in his own bed, and it took him a while to wind down. In spite of his lack of sleep, he woke at his usual 6:30 a.m.” made himself some breakfast, watched reports of the Senator’s illness on the morning network shows, and gave some thought to Larry Moody’s preliminary hearing. Before heading for Greenville and the courthouse, he drove into Delano and stopped by the law offices of Lee & Lee on Main Street. Some years before, he and his father had designed and constructed a free-standing building in the Williamsburg style to contain their practice. He exchanged greetings with Kathy, the receptionist, and with the formidable Maxine Morris, secretary to his father and, when he was in town, himself. Maxine was sixtyish, tall, stout, and smart as a whip. She ran the office, and sometimes her bosses, with an iron hand.

“There’s no mail for you, but somebody put this through the letter slot,” she said, placing a padded brown envelope, the sort for mailing books, on his desk. It was addressed to him in heavy marking pen.

“Thanks, Maxine,” Will said.

“I just wanted to check in. I’ve got a hearing at ten.”

“I know,” Maxine replied.

“I was sorry to hear about the Senator,” she said.

“How’s he doing?” “Hanging on,” Will said.

“If a Dr. Daniels tries to reach me here, get hold of me at the courthouse, all right?”

“Sure. You want coffee?”

“I think I could use an extra cup.”

Maxine left, and Will plucked at the staples on the padded envelope, then shook the contents out onto his desk.

The sight froze him for a moment. Piled on the green blotter were a dozen bundles of bills—hundreds, twenties, and fifties, bound with rubber bands. He heard Maxine’s voice in the hallway and quickly opened the center drawer of his desk and swept the money into it. It surprised him that he didn’t want her to see it, but there was something vaguely illicit about that much cash. When she had gone, he opened the drawer and counted the money. Exactly twenty-five thousand dollars.

He looked into the padded envelope and fished out a single folded sheet of paper. Written upon it, also in marking pen and in block letters, was the message for the DEFENSE OF LARRY EUGENE MOODY. When he thought about it, it was easy to see why Larry’s benefactor would not want to be publicly associated with him, why this person or persons would send untraceable cash. Well, he thought, that was all right with him.

Will put the money and the note back into the envelope and tossed it into his briefcase. Larry Moody had more friends than he knew. Will wondered why the person wanted to remain anonymous. Probably because of the nature of the crime. Greenville was a small town, after all.

at nine-thirty. Will knocked on the door of Judge Boggs’s chambers.

“Come in!” The Judge waved him to a chair.

“What can I do for you. Counselor?”

“Judge, I expect you’ve heard about the Senator’s stroke.”

“I sure have. How’s he doing?” Before Will could reply, the phone on the Judge’s desk rang, and he picked it up.

“Hello?” He handed the receiver to Will.

“It’s for you.”

“This is Dr. Daniels,” a voice said.

A stab of anxiety passed through Will’s innards.

“Yes, Doctor, what’s happening?”

“The Senator is conscious,” the doctor said.

“I’m surprised, I’ll admit it; he’s still aphasic, not responding to anything, but he seems aware; his vital signs are stable.

He’s by no means out of the woods, but I’m more optimistic.”

“That’s good news. Doctor,” Will said.

“Do you want me to tell anybody?”

“Is that reporter from the Constitution still there?”

“Yes, and a television crew from the Atlanta station, too.”

“All right, why don’t you hold a little press conference and tell them what you’ve told me. Keep it brief; say you have an announcement, but you won’t take questions; got that?”

“All right.”

“Just don’t let them press you into speculating about anything.”

“I understand.”

Will thanked him and hung up. He reported the news to the Judge.

“I’m glad to hear it,” Boggs said.

“He’s a good man, and I hope he makes it. Now, what can I do for you?”

“Judge, as you can understand, the Senator’s illness places me in a difficult position with regard to the defense of Larry Moody. I’m afraid that, under the circumstances, I’ll have to ask to be excused from the case.”

The Judge shook his head.

“Nope. I told you and Elton both that you’re in for the duration. I’ll give you all the leeway I can to handle the Senator’s affairs, but you are defending Moody, and you’d better get used to the idea.”

Will tried not to seem angry.

“Judge, that’s unreasonable, in this situation. Let me handle the preliminary hearing, then hand off to somebody else. You’d hardly be prejudicing the defendant’s chances. I’ve only seen him once.”

“Will, I know you’ve got problems, and I’ll help if I can, but I’ve got a problem, too, and we’re going to solve my problem first. I’m real happy with the way this is shaping up, and I’m not changing a thing.”

He looked at his watch.

“I’ll see you in court in twenty minutes.”

Will stood up and started for the door.

“As you wish,” he said, sounding less annoyed than he felt. He stopped at the door.

“Oh, by the way. Moody is no longer an indigent defendant. I’ve been contacted by a party who is offering a retainer for his defense.”

“Oh?” The Judge’s eyebrows went up.

“Who?”

“The party would prefer to remain anonymous.”

“How much?”

“An adequate retainer.” There didn’t seem any reason for the Judge to know the amount.

“Well, that’s very interesting. Will. Glad to hear it.

Now get out of here.”

at ten minutes before ten, a deputy brought Larry Moody into the courtroom. Will waited until the handcuffs had been removed, then shook his hand.

“Have they been treating you all right, Larry?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Moody replied.

“I’m sure tired of being in there, though.”

Will saw John Morgan enter the courtroom and waved him over. The deputy did not object when Morgan and Moody shook hands over the rail.

“Larry,” Will said, “Mr. Morgan has offered to go bail for you—if we can get bail—and we’re going to try.”

“Thank you, sir,” Moody said.

“That’s all right, son,” Morgan replied.

“We know you didn’t have anything to do with all this. We’re behind you, know that.” “Mr. Morgan,” Will said, “I’d like to call you as a character witness, if that’s all right.”

“Be glad to,” Morgan said. He took a seat in the front row of the courtroom.

Will motioned for Moody to sit next to him at the defense table.

“Now, what we’re going to see this morning is not a trial, but we’ll get to see what sort of case the prosecution has,” Will said.

“I’ll…” He stopped when a hand appeared on Moody’s shoulder. He looked around to find Charlene Joiner smiling at them. Even in the simple, rather prim dress, she still had an unsettling effect on Will.

“Hey,” she said to Moody.

“Boy, do I miss you!”

Moody smiled back at her.

“Me, too. Mr. Lee says I might get out on bail, though.”

“Good morning,” she said, turning her gaze to Will.

“Good morning. Miss. Joiner,” Will replied.

“I’m not at all sure we can get bail, but we’re going to try.”

“I know you’ll do the best you can,” she said. She took a seat next to John Morgan, and they exchanged a friendly greeting.

Will turned back to Moody.

“Listen, I think you ought to know that, this morning, I asked the Judge to excuse me from representing you.”

Alarm crossed Moody’s face.

“But why?”

“It’s nothing to do with you or your case, Larry. It’s just that, besides practicing law, I work in Washington for Senator Benjamin Carr—in fact, that’s my main job—and the Senator had a stroke last Saturday. It’s going to take a lot of time for me to keep the Senator’s affairs in order while he’s sick, and I told the Judge that, but he won’t release me.”

Moody let out a sigh of relief.

“Boy, I’m glad to hear that,” he said.