Between Black and White by Robert Bailey Read Free Book Online Page B

might, he thought. When Bocephus Haynes was tried for the capital murder of Andy Walton, former Imperial Wizard of the Tennessee Knights of the Ku Klux Klan, Tom figured every seat might indeed be taken.
    Tom lowered his gaze to the gallery on the main floor, where he saw four separate seating areas with five or six rows of built-in wooden chairs that folded up like theater seats. The gallery converged on a railing, which separated spectators from the lawyers and the judge. Just beyond this railing were two tables, one of which Tom knew would be the prosecution’s table, and the other the defense table. Between the two tables was a built-in box with a high-backed chair inside. Is that the witness stand? Tom wondered, squinting at the box and walking toward it. He ran his hand over the wood and then swept his eyes around the courtroom again. Has to be, he thought, noticing that this box faced two rows of six built-in high-backed swivel chairs. The jury, Tom thought, seeing that just beyond the jury chairs was the judge’s bench, which rose twice as high as the witness box.
    “Interesting setup, huh?” A sharp female voice cut through the air, and Tom felt his entire body tense. He moved his eyes to the jury chairs and at first didn’t see her. Then a hand shot up from the back row.
    Tom took a couple more steps and finally saw General Helen Lewis slumped in a jury chair with a file jacket in her lap. She wore a black suit, and her lips were painted bright red with lipstick. Scratching one stockinged calf with the toe of her other foot—her heels were lying in a pile underneath her chair—Helen smiled at him. “Tom McMurtrie.”
    “Helen,” Tom said. “Been a long time.”
    Over the years Tom had run into Helen Lewis at various seminars put on by the American Bar Association, where they both had been speakers. Though not friends, they had developed a mutual respect for the other’s abilities and reputation. He extended his hand, and she stood to shake it, looking him directly in the eye. Her handshake was firm, and her eyes were the greenish-blue color of the Gulf.
    “Are you lost, Tom?” she asked, her bright-red lips curving into a grin. “You are a long way from Tuscaloosa.”
    Tom chuckled and then turned away from her. “This setup is interesting,” he said, pointing at the witness box. “I haven’t seen anything like it. In every courtroom I’ve ever been in, the witness stand has been adjacent to the judge’s bench. Here, it’s—”
    “Right in the center of the room,” Helen finished his thought, and walked toward the witness chair.
    Tom noticed that she made no move to put her heels on. Her comfort level made him a bit uneasy. It was as if she were walking around in her own home. She stopped when she reached the witness box and turned to him.
    “Front and center, facing the jury and the judge.” She paused, smiling. “I think it’s the way a courtroom should be. Everything that’s important happens right here,” she said, patting the back of the chair. “All testimony. All evidence.” She paused. “Everything else is just for show.” She stepped toward Tom, the smile gone from her face. “You’re here because of Bo Haynes, right?”
    Tom nodded.
    “You taught him in law school, didn’t you? He was on one of your trial teams.”
    Again, Tom nodded. “You seem to know a lot about me.”
    “Not really,” Helen said. “I just know a lot about Bo Haynes. He’s the only black trial lawyer in town, and he’s very good. He used to do a lot of criminal defense back in the late ’80s and early ’90s, and we had dozens of cases against each other.” She paused. “I always do a study of my opponents when I face them in court.”
    “And what did you learn about Bo?” Tom asked, smiling at her. But the gesture wasn’t returned. Helen’s emerald eyes blazed with intensity.
    “Having grown up in Giles County myself, I knew a lot already. I was just starting in the DA’s office here