فصل 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Trial Ends

Clanton returned to normal Monday morning as the crowd of blacks and whites gathered in the square. The soldiers were there to keep the peace. The Klan were louder than ever. They had begun to think they might win, and were pleased with the direct hit on Jake’s house.

Jake felt lonely walking into the court without Ellen. He and Harry Rex had been to see her at the hospital, and she was going to be OK. She had been badly frightened, but now she was angry and desperately wanted Jake to win. He did too, but did not feel so confident. He could still remember how sick he had felt, and how he could not find anything to say when Buckley had destroyed Dr. Bass.

“Does the State have any final witness?” Judge Noose asked Rufus Buckley.

“One witness, Your Honor.”

Dr. Rodeheaver sat carefully in the witness chair and looked at the jury. He looked like a real psychiatrist. Dark suit, no cowboy boots.

Buckley stood and smiled at the jury.

“You are Dr. Wilbert Rodeheaver?”

“I am,” he replied.

Buckley asked the doctor questions, a million questions, about his educational and professional background. Rodeheaver was confident, relaxed, prepared, and he was used to being in the witness chair. He gave good answers.

Jake had no questions.

Buckley then asked Dr. Rodeheaver to describe his examination of Carl Lee Hailey. Dr. Rodeheaver said that Carl Lee was fairly helpful and able to talk about his experience in Vietnam and his family, but said that he was unable to remember details of the day of the murder. The doctor talked about the number of times he had met Carl Lee and the questions he had asked. He said that it was his opinion that Mr. Hailey had carefully planned what he did and he knew what he was doing.”

“Did you know,” asked Buckley, “that another psychiatrist, a Dr. W.T. Bass, has told this jury that Mr. Hailey was unable to recognize the difference between right and wrong, and that he was insane when he murdered these two men?”

“Yes, I did know that.”

“Do you agree with that opinion?”

“No, I do not, and I do not find it professionally acceptable. Mr. Hailey himself has said that he planned the murders. By saying this he has shown that he was not insane. He knew what he was doing, and he knew right from wrong.”

“Doctor, what, therefore, is your medical opinion of the mental condition of Mr. Hailey on the day he shot Billy Ray Cobb, Peter Willard, and Deputy DeWayne Looney?”

“His mental condition was normal, and he could tell right from wrong.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I have no further questions.”

“Any questions, Mr. Brigance?” Noose asked.

“A few questions. Your Honor.”

Working from his notes, Jake asked Dr. Rodeheaver a series of careful questions about the theory of psychiatry. The doctor agreed that psychiatry could never be an exact science, and that there would always be different opinions.

Jake then asked how many cases Dr. Rodeheaver had been a witness in. He replied that this was the forty-third.

Jake checked something in a file and looked at the doctor with a nasty little smile.

“Are you sure it’s not your forty-sixth?”

“It could be, yes. I’m not certain.”

The courtroom became still. Buckley looked up from his notes and watched his witness carefully.

“Forty-six times you’ve spoken for the State in insanity trials?”

“If you say so.”

“And forty-six times you’ve said that the defendant was not legally insane. Correct, Doctor?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, let me make it simple. You’ve been a witness forty-six times, and forty-six times it has been your opinion the defendant was not legally insane. Correct?”

Rodeheaver moved in his chair and, for the first time, looked uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure.”

“You’ve never seen a legally insane defendant, have you, Doctor?”

“Of course I have.”

“Good. Would you then, please sir, tell us the name of the defendant and where he was tried?”

Rodeheaver breathed deeply and looked at the ceiling. Jake looked across at the jurors. They were awake and waiting for an answer.

“I can’t remember,” he finally said.

Jake lifted a pile of papers and waved it at the witness.

“Is it possible, Doctor, that the reason you can’t remember is that in eleven years, forty-six trials, you have never spoken for the defendant?”

“I honestly can’t remember.”

“Can you honestly name us one trial in which you found the defendant to be legally insane?”

“I’m sure there are some.”

“Yes or no, Doctor. One trial?”

The medical witness looked at Buckley.

“No, my memory fails me. I cannot.”

Jake walked slowly to the defense table and picked up a thick file.

“Dr. Rodeheaver, do you remember being a witness in the trial of a man by the name of Danny Booker in McMurphy County in December 1975?”

“Yes, I remember that trial.”

“And you said that he was not legally insane, didn’t you?”

“That is correct.”

“Do you remember how many psychiatrists spoke for him?”

“Not exactly. There were several.”

“There were three, Dr. Rodeheaver, and they all said the man was legally insane. How many other doctors agreed with you?”

“None, if I remember correctly.”

“So it was three against one.”

“Yes, but…”

“What did the jury do, Doctor?”

“He was found not guilty by reason of insanity.”

“Thank you. Now, Dr. Rodeheaver, you’re the head doctor at Whitfield Psychiatric Hospital, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“And where is Danny Booker today?”

Rodeheaver looked desperately at Buckley but then had to turn back to Jake to answer the question. He waited one second too long for the jury. They were losing trust in him.

“He’s at Whitfield, isn’t he?” Jake asked.

“I believe so,” Rodeheaver said.

“And is this man legally insane, Doctor?”

“I don’t think so.”

“But you said in court that Danny Booker was not mad and understood what he was doing when he killed his wife. The jury disagreed with you and found him not guilty, and since that time he has been a patient in your hospital, under your care, and treated as a patient with a mental illness. Is that correct?”

The jury could see that it was.

And Jake then asked the doctor about five more cases - four men and one woman. In each one Dr. Rodeheaver had said the person was not insane, but in each case the jury had disagreed - and now they were all in Dr. Rodeheaver’s hospital. Jake asked how this was possible.

“You just can’t trust juries,” said the doctor, without thinking. Jake looked at him with a sad smile, then looked at the jury. He folded his arms and allowed Rodeheaver’s words to sink in. He waited, looking at the witness. Finally he turned to the judge.

“I think we’ve heard enough from this witness, Your Honor. We have no more questions.”

Jake knew that he had destroyed Buckley’s medical witness. There were no more witnesses. It was time for the closing arguments.

Jake talked directly to the jury. He began with his biggest problem, Dr. W.T. Bass. He apologized to the jury. He asked them to believe that he would never use a man with a criminal record as a witness if he knew the facts. He raised his hand and swore to them that he had not known.

He then asked them to think about what Dr. Bass had said. Yes, thirty years ago he had had sex with a girl under eighteen in Texas. Does that mean he is lying now in this trial? Does that mean you cannot trust his professional opinion?

“Be fair to Bass the psychiatrist. Forget Bass the person. And please be fair to his patient, Carl Lee Hailey. He knew nothing of the doctor’s past.”

Then Jake told them that the girl had become Bass’s wife and had died with their child in a train crash. Mr. Buckley had not mentioned that. He waited a moment and let them think about it.

“And what about Dr. Rodeheaver?” he asked. “Maybe he had sex with a girl under eighteen once, maybe he didn’t. Does that make him a better or a worse psychiatrist? The problem with Dr. Rodeheaver is that although he is a highly trained doctor who treats thousands of people for all sorts of mental illnesses, when crimes are involved he cannot recognize insanity.”

They watched him, listened to every word. He was not loud and over-confident like Buckley. He was quiet. He looked tired, almost hurt.

Jake asked the jury to forgive him for his lack of experience. If he had made mistakes, it was not his client’s fault.

He talked about daughters. He told the jury about his own daughter. She was four, almost five, and she was the center of his world. She was special, she was a little girl, and he had to protect her.

Carl Lee had a daughter. Her name was Tonya. He pointed to her on the front row next to her mother and brothers.

“She’s a beautiful little girl, ten years old. And now she can never have children. She can never have a daughter …”

“Objection!” Buckley shouted.

“Sustained.”

Jake talked about rape, and explained how rape is much worse than murder. With murder, the victim is gone, and not forced to deal with what happened to her. The family must deal with it, but not the victim. But rape is much worse. The victim has a lifetime of trying to understand, of asking questions, and knowing the rapist may someday escape or be freed. Every hour of every day, the victim thinks of the rape and asks herself a thousand questions. She relives it, step by step, minute by minute, and it hurts just as badly.

And if this happens to a child? A ten-year-old child?

Imagine you’re a parent. How would you explain to your child why she was raped? How would you explain why she cannot have children?

“Objection.”

“Sustained. Please ignore that, ladies and gentlemen.”

“What would you do?” asked Jake. “What would a father do?”

Jake paused for a drink of water. He changed direction now. He stopped looking hurt. He looked angry. He talked about Cobb and Willard. Drug sellers and rapists. Was this country a better place without them? Certainly - and Deputy Looney a man who had lost a leg, thought so too. He had said that they should thank Carl Lee for what he had done. He was a hero. He asked the jury to follow Looney’s wishes.

He became much quieter, and said he was almost finished. He wanted to leave them with one thought. Picture this if they could. “When she was lying there, beaten, covered in her own blood, tied to two trees, she had looked into the woods around her. She wanted her daddy. She thought he was coming but it was only a dream.”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he continued. “She needs him now, as much as she needed him then. Please don’t take him away. She’s waiting on the front row for her daddy. Let him go home to his family.”

The courtroom was silent as Jake sat down next to his client. He looked at the jury, and saw Wanda Wornack brush away a tear with her finger. For the first time in two days he felt some hope.

At four o’clock, Judge Noose spoke to the jury. He told them to get organized, and get busy. He told them they could discuss things until six, maybe seven, but if they could not make a decision he would ask them to meet again on Tuesday morning. They stood up and walked out. No one expected a quick decision.