The Chamber by John Grisham Read Free Book Online Page B

can work on the Cayhall case. Sort of a leave of absence, with full pay of course.”
    “Anything else?”
    “That’s about it. It’ll work. I’m just a lowly rookie, expendable around here. No one will miss me. Hell, there are plenty of young cutthroats just eager to work eighteen hours a day and bill twenty.”
    Goodman’s face relaxed, and a warm smile appeared. He shook his head as if this impressed him. “You planned this, didn’t you? I mean, you picked this firm because it represented Sam Cayhall, and because it has an office in Memphis.”
    Adam nodded without a smile. “Things have worked out. I didn’t know how or when this moment would arrive, but, yes, I sort of planned it. Don’t ask me what happens next.”
    “He’ll be dead in three months, if not sooner.”
    “But I have to do something, Mr. Goodman. If the firm won’t allow me to handle the case, then I’ll probably resign and try it on my own.”
    Goodman shook his head and jumped to his feet. “Don’t do that, Mr. Hall. We’ll work something out. I’ll need to present this to Daniel Rosen, the managing partner. I think he’ll approve.”
    “He has a horrible reputation.”
    “Well deserved. But I can talk to him.”
    “He’ll do it if you and Wycoff recommend it, won’t he?”
    “Of course. Are you hungry?” Goodman was reaching for his jacket.
    “A little.”
    “Let’s go out for a sandwich.”
    ______
    The lunch crowd at the corner deli had not arrived. The partner and the rookie took a small table in the front window overlooking the sidewalk. Traffic was slow and hundreds of pedestrians scurried along, just a few feet away. The waiter delivered a greasy Reuben for Goodman and a bowl of chicken soup for Adam.
    “How many inmates are on death row in Mississippi?” Goodman asked.
    “Forty-eight, as of last month. Twenty-five black, twenty-three white. The last execution was two years ago, Willie Parris. Sam Cayhall will probably be next, barring a small miracle.”
    Goodman chewed quickly on a large bite. He wiped his mouth with the paper napkin. “A large miracle, I would say. There’s not much left to do legally.”
    “There are the usual assortment of last ditch motions.”
    “Let’s save the strategy talks for later. I don’t suppose you’ve ever been to Parchman.”
    “No. Since I learned the truth, I’ve been tempted to return to Mississippi, but it hasn’t happened.”
    “It’s a massive farm in the middle of the Mississippi Delta, not too far from Greenville, ironically. Something like seventeen thousand acres. Probably the hottest place in the world. It sits on Highway 49, just like a little hamlet off to the west. Lots of buildings andhouses. The front part is all administration, and it’s not enclosed by fencing. There are about thirty different camps scattered around the farm, all fenced and secured. Each camp is completely separate. Some are miles apart. You drive past various camps, all enclosed by chain link and barbed wire, all with hundreds of prisoners hanging around, doing nothing. They wear different colors, depending on their classification. It seemed as if they were all young black kids, just loitering about, some playing basketball, some just sitting on the porches of the buildings. An occasional white face. You drive in your car, alone and very slowly, down a gravel road, past the camps and the barbed wire until you come to a seemingly innocuous little building with a flat roof. It has tall fences around it with guards watching from the towers. It’s a fairly modern facility. It has an official name of some sort, but everyone refers to it simply as the Row.”
    “Sounds like a wonderful place.”
    “I thought it would be a dungeon, you know, dark and cold with water dripping from above. But it’s just a little flat building out in the middle of a cotton field. Actually, it’s not as bad as death rows in other states.”
    “I’d like to see the Row.”
    “You’re not ready to see