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“You a good lawyer, ain’t you?” she asked cautiously.
“He’s the finest damn lawyer in all of Freeman County,” answered his father.
“Now, Mr. Lee, every daddy and momma think they’s child is the prettiest and sweetest and smartest in the whole wide world. But I got to know what I knows. This Pearl’s young man.” She turned back to Jack. “So is you good or not?”
“I’m a good lawyer. I’ve been practicing eight years.”
“You win your law cases?”
“Most of them, yes. Nobody wins them all.”
“And you take on folks been accused of killin’ other folks?”
“Pretty much my entire practice is criminal law,” replied Jack, without actually answering the question.
“Mr. Ashby said he done tax law before he retired.”
“I’ve never been much good with numbers.”
“You lawyered for colored folks?” she asked, her scrutinizing look deepening.
Jack swallowed nervously. “Um, no. But that... doesn’t matter to me.”
She snorted. “Well, it gonna sure matter to Jerome.”
“Are you saying he doesn’t want a white lawyer?”
“’Course he do. ’Sides, I ain’t know any colored lawyers. But my point bein’ any lawyer can get a white man off for anythin’, ’specially if he got him some money, and he done somethin’ to a colored man. But you got to be as good as the Lord God Above to get a colored man off, ’specially for killin’ white folks. For that you need a white lawyer.” She looked at him doubtfully. “Thought everybody knew that.”
“So he’s accused of killing white people?” Jack asked.
“Didn’t I say that before?” she said, her eyes wide and probing.
“No, you somehow left that out.”
“Well, it ain’t important ’cause he didn’t do it. But you got to make the law see that, and for folk with my skin that ain’t easy to do, no sir.”
“The law’s supposed to be color-blind,” Jack pointed out.
“Law is blind if you colored, honey. It don’t see us, no how, no way. That’s why Jerome need your help. Lord, he need it more than anybody you know, Mr. Lee.”
Jack looked at his father, who was still sipping on the tea and splash of rye and following all of this closely.
“Okay. What can you tell me about Jerome?” Jack asked.
“He’s never had a lick of trouble before this.”
“So no prior arrests?”
“No. He a fine man. Been real good to Pearl and the children.”
“Your great-grandchildren,” Frank pointed out.
Her heavy face crinkled. “Sweet, sweet babies.”
“Where is Jerome now?” Jack asked.
The crinkles transformed to a scowl. “In the county jail. With ’bout a dozen white deputies wantin’ to kill him before he gets himself in front of a durn jury.”
