Judge's List by John Grisham Read Free Book Online Page A

courtrooms.”
    “Is that enough?”
    “For the most part. Thankfully, the vast majority of our judges behave, with only a few bad apples.”
    “Well, you’ve got one here.”
    Lacy did not respond. They were on an extended section of Main Street. Jeri turned off of it, turned again, and paused at an intersection. Across the road was an entrance to a gated community. Behind the gate were modern homes and condos with small neat lawns.
    Jeri said, “Dr. Bannick bought this land raw forty years ago and it was a good investment. Ross lives in there, and this is as close as we’ll get. There are a lot of surveillance cameras.”
    “I’m close enough,” Lacy said, and wanted to ask about the benefits of knowing where he lived. But she held her tongue. As they drove away she said, “Let’s get back to the local police up there. How do you talk to them without worrying about leaving a trail?”
    Jeri chuckled and offered a smile, a rare one. “I’ve created a fictional world, Lacy, and in it I am many characters. A freelance journalist, a crime reporter, a private investigator, even a novelist, all with different names and addresses. In this case, I posed as a crime reporter from Memphis, working on a long story about cold cases in Tennessee. Gave the chief my business card, even a phone number and email. Short skirts and a lot of charm can work wonders. They’re all men, you know, the weaker sex. After a few friendly chats they open up, somewhat.”
    “How many phones do you have?”
    “Oh, I don’t know. At least half a dozen.”
    Lacy shook her head in disbelief.
    “Plus, you have to remember that this case is all but forgotten. It’s considered ‘cold’ for a reason. Once the police realized they had nothing to work with, they lost interest in a hurry. The victim was not from their town and had no family to poke around and pressure them. The crime seemed thoroughly random and impossible to solve. In some of these cold cases the cops even welcome a fresh set of eyes digging through the file.”
    They were back on Main Street, in the historic section. A stately Grecian courthouse came into view, in the very center of the town. The square around it was busy with shops and offices.
    “That’s where he works,” Jeri said, looking at the courthouse. “We won’t go in.”
    “I’ve seen enough.”
    “There are cameras everywhere.”
    “Do you really think Bannick would recognize you? I mean, come on. You’ve never met the man and he has no idea who you are or what you’re after, right?”
    “Right, but why take the chance? Actually, I walked in one time, years ago. It was the first day of a term and the courthouse was crawling with people, over a hundred prospective jurors summoned for duty. I stayed in the crowd and had a look around. His courtroom is on the second floor, his office just down the hall. It was really weird, almost overwhelming, just being in the same place as the man who killed my father.”
    Lacy was struck by the certainty of her words. With no proof, no evidence, she was convinced Bannick was a murderer. And she, Lacy, was expected to get involved and somehow find truth and justice.
    They circled the square and left downtown. Jeri said, “I need some coffee. You?”
    “Sure. Is the tour over?”
    “Yes, but we have much more to talk about.”

6
    At the edge of town they stopped at a chain restaurant and went inside. At two thirty the place was empty and they chose a booth in a corner, far away from the deserted bar. Jeri carried a large bag, too big for a purse. Lacy assumed it contained files. They ordered coffee and sipped ice water while they waited.
    Lacy said, “On more than one occasion you’ve described Thad Leawood as the first. Who was the second?”
    “Well, I don’t know how many victims there are, so I can’t be certain Thad was the first. My project has uncovered six, so far. Thad was 1991, and I think my father was number two, the following year.”
    “Okay. And