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She walked over to the Rolls. Before she climbed in, a man ran across the street and started screaming at her.
“Rich bitch!” he yelled. “You love you a n——? You better watch yourself.”
He pushed her up against the Rolls.
Before Gordon could intercede, Jeff Lee had rushed over, picked up the man, and thrown him across the pavement. When two other men, fists raised, came at Jeff, he knocked them both down. So swift had the beating been that both men lay on the street, seemingly unsure of how they had gotten there.
Another man came at Jeff with a knife. A few moments later, Jeff had the knife and was holding it against the man’s pulsing neck.
“Anybody else have a problem they want to ‘discuss’ with me?” asked Jeff, as he shoved the man to the ground. He tossed the knife into a prickly holly bush. “Anybody?”
No one took up the challenge.
Jeff turned to Christine and helped her into the Rolls. “You okay?”
“Yes,” she said breathlessly. “Thank you.”
“Yes, thank you,” said Gordon Hanover from the driver’s seat. “This mob is getting out of control.”
“You best get on out of here,” warned Jeff.
“Will you be okay?” asked Christine. “You can ride with us.”
Jeff surveyed the crowd. “I’ll be fine. I think they have to worry about me.”
She smiled and touched his hand, and Gordon swiftly drove off.
“What are you doing?”
Jeff turned to see his brother standing there. Jack had obviously come out of the courthouse too late to see the altercation.
“What do you mean?”
Jack stared after the Rolls. “You know what I mean.”
“We were friends, Jack.”
“You know and I know you were a lot more than friends. And she’s married, little brother. So tread carefully.”
Jack walked away, leaving Jeff to stare pensively after the Rolls.
* * *
Jack and DuBose were sitting in the garage working that night when Jack said, “I heard you on the radio earlier. When did you do that interview?”
“From a pay phone near the courthouse before we came back here. What’d you think?”
“You know how I feel about litigating in the press.”
“I want to win this case, Jack, not lose and then file endless and pointless appeals while Jerome and Pearl rot in prison.”
“That’s my point. We have to put all our energies into the trial. You said your piece out on the courthouse steps and it was damn powerful. But let that be enough.”
“I’m also a realist, using different tactics than other lawyers because I have to.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“With that jury we have almost no chance unless we deliver the real killer right to the police—and that is not something I can count on, can you?”
