AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Oil and water do not mix.
Inside the garage DuBose was working away at her desk. Jack pulled up a chair across from her.
She held up a copy of a national news magazine. On the cover were the Washingtons in their shackles, and next to them a photo of the very white and very elderly Randolphs.
“What does it say?” he asked.
“Not that it matters much after that cover photo. But nothing good about us or our clients. Howard Pickett and George Wallace are both quoted and they cherry-picked some of my statements to make it seem like I want to overthrow the government and put all white people in prison. Oh, and listen to this.”
She opened the magazine and read off a page. “‘The one constant source of legal integrity has been the thoroughly professional manner of Judge Josiah Ambrose, who has shown himself to be not only fair but compassionate. He has exhibited great tolerance and restraint in the face of some of Desiree DuBose’s outlandish tactics in her bag of legal tricks. However, appropriate ethics authorities should show no such leeway to the woman, and relieve her of her ability to practice law for good. But certainly, if the Washingtons are convicted they will have no cause to claim any racial animus on the part of the esteemed judge.’”
“Well, that esteemed judge was in the KKK when he was a young man.”
Eyes widening, DuBose put down the magazine. “How do you know that?”
“Ashby, the man I just met with, told me. He and Ambrose grew up together and joined the Klan after seeing Birth of a Nation.”
DuBose looked reinvigorated. “A judge presiding over a racially charged case used to be a Klansman?”
“I imagine there were a lot of men back then who wore the white hoods.”
“How many become judges?”
“Okay, I grant you that is troubling. But it was a long time ago.”
“Doesn’t matter. We can still use it.”
“How?” asked Jack, looking confused.
“Not only is that a powerful foundation for a successful appeal, it’s plausible grounds for me to go directly to federal court under the Civil Rights Act. Not to mention every TV network and newspaper in the country will want to run with the story. I can see the headline now: ‘Handpicked Judge for a Murder Trial Involving Blacks Was a Klansman.’ Then we use that fact, once it’s confirmed, to demand a mistrial, a new judge, and a jury of the Washingtons’ peers.”
“But they’ll just get another racist judge who wasn’t in the Klan and you’re never going to get a jury of their peers, at least not in Virginia.”
DuBose did not seem to be listening. “Do you think Donny can confirm Ambrose was in the Klan? I can start writing the press release.”
“I think Donny can do anything, but I’m not sure that’s the path we should take.”
She looked at him blankly. “Why not?”
“Desiree, I actually feel good about our case. I think we can win it on the merits.”
“And if we lose? They go to the electric chair.” She sat back and scowled at him. “You know, you keep berating me for thinking too big-picture, but here I am trying to win this case, and you’re still complaining. What is it you want from me?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“What?” she said icily.
“Did you become a lawyer to defend people’s rights, or to pen press releases and talk into microphones?”
“I do whatever I have to do to get the job done. I’ve told you this many times before—yes, I focus on individual cases, but I have to always remember it’s bigger than that. I wish I didn’t have to be concerned with all of that, but I don’t have that luxury!”
“I’m sure your mother meant well when she told you to make the world equal and just for Black folks, but no one person can be the savior of an entire race.”
She shook her head. “You will never understand me or what I’m trying to do.”
“Well, let me tell you what I do understand.”
She looked at him crossly. “What?”
