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“The indictment is for first-degree murder. The penalty for that is life in prison. But I spoke with the prosecutor and he said if the death penalty is revived he will seek it. I know you don’t want to hear any of this, but it’s my job to tell you. Okay?”
Jerome nodded.
“You haven’t talked to anyone, have you?”
“Ain’t said a word to nobody, like you told me.”
“Good, keep it that way. Are you from Virginia, Jerome?”
“Naw. I was born outside Jackson, Mississippi. Moved up here with my momma when I was a little boy.”
“And your father?”
“Dead, long time ago.”
“What happened to him?”
Jerome shrugged. “He went out to his job one mornin’ and they find him in a ditch with his eyeballs cut out that night. Some say he was lookin’ at a white woman on the street so they done what they done. Right after we buried him, Momma say we gettin’ the hell outta Mississippi. These white folks crazy, she say. We took us a bus to Tennessee the very next day and then ended up here.”
“Is your mother still alive?”
“Naw. Her heart stopped three years ago.”
“I’m very sorry all that happened to your family.”
Jerome shrugged. “Not just us, that’s for durn sure.”
Jack flipped through some pages and said, “Okay, let’s get down to details. First, did you call the police when you found the Randolphs?”
“No sir. I just got to ’em when the police come in.”
“Did you see or hear anyone else at the house that day?”
Jerome bowed his head as he rubbed his hands together. “They got a man that does the yard work and such. Name’s Tyler Dobbs. He get there ’bout eight and leaves ’bout the time I havin’ my lunch.”
“So around one or so?”
Jerome nodded. “Yeah, ’bout that.”
“Does he come every day?”
“Every other day.”
“Was he there that day?” Jack asked.
“Yeah.”
“Did you see him leave?”
Jerome nodded. “I had my lunch early and was workin’ on the light where you come up the drive. Wire gone bad. He flipped me off when he was leavin’.”
“Nice guy,” said Jack. “What time do you get there?”
“Round ’bout seven.”
“How do you get there?” asked Jack.
“My bike.”
