Turning Angel

Chapter 16

Annie leans over the front seat of my car, kisses me, then climbs out and runs into the St. Stephen’s middle school. From habit, I wait until she disappears from my sight before driving on. It’s a primitive instinct, like the one that made Annie keep a hand in contact with me for over a year after her mother died, even while she slept.

As the line of cars moves slowly past the high school, Holden Smith steps from beneath the overhang and motions for me to pull over. When I do, he comes to the window with a big smile and tells me he’s scheduled an emergency board meeting to deal with the aftermath of our two student deaths. Yesterday he practically demanded my resignation along with Drew’s; today-with the Examiner offering up Cyrus White as a possible suspect-he’s saying the board was hasty in suggesting I resign. Holden sounds positive that Chris Vogel drowned because of Ecstasy or LSD. And while no one has fingered Marko Bakic as the source of those drugs, Holden seems quite prepared to expel our troublesome exchange student without any proof. I reiterate my intention to resign, but I also agree to appear at the meeting, primarily in order to gather the most information possible about the events surrounding Chris Vogel’s death. I feel Holden’s relief as he pumps my hand in farewell.

”Chickenshit,“ I mutter as he walks away.

I pull out onto Highway 61 and head into town. The first order of the day is getting the assault charge against Drew dismissed. As I pass the hospital, my cell phone rings. It’s Don Logan, chief of the Natchez Police Department.

”Are you getting your buddy out of jail this morning?“ he asks.

”I’m on my down there now.“

”Well, his situation has worsened a bit since last night.“

My pulse quickens; something serious has happened. ”How so?“

”This morning we searched the woods upstream from where we found the Townsend girl. We started at dawn, and we moved pretty fast along both banks. We had a little dispute with the sheriff’s department, but I won’t go into that now. The point for you is that when we reached the woods between Pinehaven and the creek, we found Kate’s cell phone.“

There’s a hitch in my breathing. ”And?“

”It’s one of those camera phones. She had some pictures stored inside it. One of those pictures shows Dr. Elliott asleep on a bed. In the nude.“

Even though I’m driving, I waver like a man losing his balance. ”Does the district attorney know about that picture?“

”Yes, sir. He does.“

While I work through the implications of this development, Chief Logan speaks again. ”Penn, between you and me, I’ve got a source over at the sheriff’s department. She tells me that Dr. Elliott is going to be arrested by a couple of deputies as soon as he leaves this building.“

Jesus.”On what charge?“

”Sexual battery is what I heard. But I’m thinking murder.“

”If the D.A. wants Drew charged with another crime, why doesn’t he just have you charge him?“

There’s a long silence before Logan answers. ”The D.A. would tell you it’s because murder is a state crime, and a defendant accused of it has to be held in state custody. But if you ask me, it’s because Billy Byrd is a lot deeper in Shad Johnson’s pocket than I am or ever will be.“

This leaves me both angry and uncertain about what to do. ”Has Drew been scheduled for arraignment?“

”Eleven o’clock.“

”I may let him attend that proceeding after all. I’ll let you know well before then what I’m going to do.“

”I’d appreciate it. Things are getting mighty interesting down here.“

”Don, have you turned up anything on Cyrus White?“

”Nothing at all. It’s like he’s vanished off the face of the earth.“

”I’d say that makes him look more than a little guilty.“

”I agree. But maybe he’s just paranoid. Maybe he doesn’t believe Shad Johnson’s promises of fair treatment for blacks in the judicial system.“

”Was that humor, Don?“

”Don’t forget to call me.“

Chief Logan hangs up.

Even before I lay my phone on the seat, one certainty settles into my bones. Despite what I told Shad and Sheriff Byrd about Cyrus White last night, Drew is going to be charged with capital murder. It seems unbelievable, but worse has been done in this town in the name of politics. Another certainty quickly follows the first: Drew needs a real lawyer, not a former prosecutor-turned-novelist who’s too close to the case. He needs a top-flight defense attorney with years of experience, one with the credentials to neutralize the subliminal cards that Shad Johnson will bring to the table. That means a local attorney who is black and preferably female. Several black attorneys practice in Natchez, but the only one I know well practices civil law. I need a wise counselor to help me choose my candidate.

I slow down and make a U-turn, then head back south. My father’s office is less than a mile away. For forty years, he has treated more black patients than any white doctor in town, and he knows many of them like family. If anyone can tell me about the black lawyers in town, it’s my dad. I call ahead and ask for Esther Ford, his physician’s assistant. Esther has very little formal training, but after forty years of working at my father’s side she knows more about primary care medicine than many interns. When she comes on the line, I ask if Dad can spare me fifteen minutes. She laughs and simply hands the phone to him.

”What’s up, Penn?“ Dad asks in his resonant baritone.

”I need to see you for a minute. I’ve got an emergency.“

”A medical emergency?“

”No, but almost as bad.“

”Does it have to do with Drew Elliott?“

”How’d you know?“

”When I made rounds this morning, that’s all anybody was talking about in the doctors’ lounge.“

”What were they saying?“

”That Drew’s been screwing the Townsend girl. That she got pregnant, and he snapped and killed her.“

”Great.“

”I figure if any of that’s true, it’s the first part. The rest I can’t see. Drew Elliott is the best young doc I’ve seen in my career, and I’m not talking about technical skills. He cares about people. Any man can be led astray by his willie, but Drew Elliott committing murder? No way.“

”I wish more people felt that way.“

”People turn on you fast. It’s human nature.“

My father once learned this lesson in a very painful and public way. It took me almost twenty years to pay back the man who tried to ruin him. ”Dad, I need some advice, and I need it fast.“

”Shoot.“

”I need the best black lawyer you know.“

”To defend Drew?“

”You got it.“

”You’re the hotshot lawyer. Why ask me?“

”You know why. I want him local, and I’d actually rather have a her. Does anybody in town fit the bill?“

”Hang on, I’m thinking.“

”Take your time.“ I hear Esther talking in the background.

”I only know of three black female lawyers in town. I’ve heard good things about two of them, but that’s not who I’d hire if Shad Johnson was trying to nail me to the barn door.“

”Why not?“

”I’m not sure. You asked my opinion, I’m giving it to you.“

”Fair enough. What about men?“

”We ought to ask Esther.“

”I’d go to her if I was sick, but not for this.“

More silence. Dad calls out a medication and dosage to someone. ”Penn, I’m at a loss here. When I think of local lawyers-black or white-and then I think of the situation Drew is facing, I just come up blank.“

”I know what you mean.“

”Sorry I can’t be more help.“

”It’s okay. I’ll just-“

”Wait a minute!“ Dad says in an excited voice. ”Hell, I should have thought of that first thing.“

”What?“

”Not what- who.“

”You have someone in mind?“

”The smartest lawyer for a thousand miles around, if you ask me. No offense.“

”Who are you talking about?“

”Quentin Avery.“

Images of a tall black man in a black suit arguing before the Supreme Court fill my mind. In some of those old news photographs, the ”Negro lawyer“-as the captions referred to him then-stands beside Thurgood Marshall. In others, beside Robert Carter and Charles Huston. I even remember Quentin Avery standing shoulder to shoulder with an angry-looking Martin Luther King, Jr.

”Quentin Avery,“ I echo. ”I knew he owned a house out near the county line. But I didn’t think he spent much time there.“

”Quentin travels a lot, but he’s been staying out there most of this past year. He’s sort of a recluse now. I’ve been treating him for diabetes and hypertension.“

”How old is he?“

”Mm, two or three years older than I am. Seventy-four?“

”What kind of shape is he in?“

”Mentally? He’s writing a law textbook. And in conversation, he’s so quick I can barely keep up with him.“

”What about physically?“

”He lost a foot a couple of months ago-diabetes-but he still gets around better than I do. He’s like a spry old hound dog.“

”What made you mention him? I mean, Avery is a legend. Why would he take a case like this?“

Even as I ask this question, a possible answer comes to me. Quentin Avery might be a legend of the civil rights movement, but time has not increased his stature. The moral leadership he demonstrated in the sixties and seventies seemed to vanish in the 1980s, when he began handling personal injury cases and class action lawsuits against drug companies. This giant who argued landmark cases before the highest court in the land was suddenly trying accident cases in Jefferson County, Mississippi, the predominantly black county famed for its record-breaking punitive damages awards, most of them based on the prejudices of the African-Americans who filled the jury box each week. Recently, federal prosecutors began reviewing many of those awards, and initiating action against both jury members and the attorneys involved.

”Oh, I don’t think he’d take the case,“ Dad replies. ”Although you never know what will interest Quentin. But you can bet he knows the perfect lawyer to get Drew out of this jam.“

”Does Avery know who I am?“

”Sure he does. Quentin wasn’t in town when you solved the Del Payton murder, but he followed it from New Haven. He was teaching law at Yale then. He said he admired you for bringing Leo Marston to justice after all those years. I think he’s read a couple of your books as well. Maybe he was just being nice, but that’s not Quentin’s style.“

”Should I just call him out of the blue?“

”You could, but he probably wouldn’t answer. Why don’t you let me call first? I’ve got a good idea of your situation. If Quentin’s willing to help, he’ll call you.“

”Good enough. But time is critical.“

”I got that, son.“

Someone is beeping in on my phone. It’s Chief Logan again. ”I’ve got to run, Dad.“

”Go. Bring Annie by to see us soon.“

”I will.“ I click the phone to take the incoming call. ”Chief?“

”Penn, somebody just told Billy Byrd that he saw Dr. Elliott’s car parked in a vacant lot in Pinehaven on the afternoon of the murder. That lot’s adjacent to St. Catherine’s Creek, and not a quarter mile from where we found Kate Townsend’s cell phone.“

”Mother fucker. “ Drew’s recklessness is going to damn him in the end. ”Is that the worst of it?“

”Afraid not. This witness says he saw Drew’s car at about three forty-five p.m. Kate Townsend’s cell phone records show that she answered a text message from a girlfriend at three twenty-two p.m. We found her cell phone in the woods less than two hundred yards from where Drew’s car was parked. That means they were in very close proximity to one another within twenty-three minutes. That’s provable, Penn. What a jury would read into that, you know better than I.“

I can’t believe this.”Is there anything else, Don?“

”My source says Sheriff Byrd’s planning to arrest your man for capital murder. She even heard that with the D.A.’s help, Byrd might try to take Drew right out of my custody.“

Astonishment paralyzes me.

”Penn, are you Drew’s lawyer or not? He doesn’t seem too sure himself.“

”I guess I am for the moment.“

”What do you want me to do if Byrd shows up and tries to take him out of here? I’ve called the attorney general in Jackson for an opinion, but all I got was the same old runaround. Goddamn lawyers…pick any dozen of them and you won’t find a pair of balls in the bunch. No offense.“

”None taken,“ I mutter, searching desperately for a solution.

”What do you want me to do?“

Desperate times, desperate measures…

”Penn?“

”Charge Drew with capital murder.“

The silence on the other end of the line is absolute. ”On my own authority?“

”You know what the evidence is. You’ve got the girl’s cell phone. Charge him with murder right now. Don’t wait. Do it the second you hang up.“

”I take back what I said before. You’ve got a pair of balls on you, all right.“

”Will you do it, Don?“

”I’ll do it. But you’d better get your ass down here in a hurry.“