Sycamore Row - John Grisham

her deposition back in December and taught her the art of sandbagging. He knew that
at trial there was no way Jake could rebut her testimony, so offer a few crumbs during
the deposition, just enough to vaguely answer the questions, then load up the fiction for
the jury.
Her testimony was a dramatic blend of emotion, bad acting, lying, and exaggerating.
Jake began stealing glances at the jury to see if anyone was suspicious. As she bawled
again, Tracy McMillen, number two, met Jake’s look and frowned as if to say, “Can you
believe this?”
At least that was Jake’s reading. He could be wrong. His instincts had been rattled
and he didn’t fully trust them. Tracy was his favorite juror. Their eyes had been meeting
for two days now, and things had been elevated almost to the point of flirting. It wasn’t
the first time Jake had used his good looks to win over a juror, nor would it be the last.
Another glance over and he caught Frank Doley shooting one of his patented “I can’t
wait to burn you” looks.
Wade Lanier wasn’t perfect. He kept her on direct far too long and began to lose
people. Her voice was grating and her crying was a tired old act. Those watching
suffered along with her, and when Lanier finally said, “I tender the witness,” Judge
Atlee quickly tapped the gavel and said, “Let’s recess for fifteen minutes.”
The jurors left and the courtroom cleared out. Jake stayed at his table, as did Lettie. It
was time to acknowledge each other. Portia moved her chair closer so the three of them
could speak softly in a small huddle. Lettie began with “Jake, I’m so sorry. What have I
done?” Her eyes were instantly wet.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Lettie? If I had known about the Pickerings, I could have
been prepared.”
“It didn’t happen that way at all, Jake. I swear I never discussed no will with Miss
Irene. Never. Not before she wrote it, not after. I didn’t even know about it until I came
to work that mornin’ and all hell broke loose. I swear, Jake. You gotta let me explain
this to the jury. I can do it. I can make them believe me.”
“It’s not that simple. We’ll talk about it later.”
“We need to talk, Jake. Herschel and Ramona are lyin’ through their teeth. Can’t you
make ’em stop?”
“I don’t think the jury is buying much of this.”
Portia said, “They don’t like Ramona.”
“I can understand that. I need to run to the restroom. Any word from Lucien?”
“No, I checked the phone messages during lunch. Some lawyers, some reporters, and
one death threat.”
“A what?”
“Some dude said they gonna burn your house again if you win all that money for
them niggers.”
“How nice. I sort of like it. It brings back fond memories of the Hailey trial.”
“I saved it. You want me to tell Ozzie?”
“Sure.”