Part 27 (1/2)
”Sustained,” Connelly said.
Rick shot a glance at Tom, who mouthed the words he'd taught three generations of trial team students: ”Calm, slow, Andy.”
Rick nodded. ”Mr. Pickalew, did you know Roosevelt Haynes?”
Ray Ray nodded. ”Not well, but I knew who he was.”
”Did you know Andy Walton?”
”Yes.”
”How did you know Andy Walton?”
”I first met Andy in 1965. Right after I joined the Tennessee Knights of the Ku Klux Klan.”
”How long were you in the Klan?”
”Just over a year. I quit in August 1966.”
Rick felt his stomach leap. ”Why did you quit?” Out of the corner of his eye, Rick saw Helen Lewis begin to stand, but she only made it halfway to her feet before returning to her seat.
Ray Ray turned his eyes directly to the jury. ”I quit after me and nine of my Klan brethren hung Roosevelt Haynes from a tree on Walton Farm.”
Rick had thought the courtroom might explode, but it had become dead silent. It was so quiet that Rick could hear the faint hum of the air-conditioning unit kick in from somewhere in the building. He looked to the defense table and watched as his client, Bocephus Aurulius Haynes, slowly rose from his chair, his legs shaking and his arms trembling. Reacting without thinking, Rick walked over to Bo and stood by his side.
”You were there?” Rick asked, returning his attention to the witness stand.
”I was,” Ray Ray said. ”And I've regretted it every day of my life.”
”Mr. Pickalew, how many men were present when Roosevelt Haynes was killed?”
”Ten.”
Rick sucked in a breath and glanced down at Tom, who nodded. It was time for the big finish.
”Mr. Pickalew, could you tell the jury who those ten men were?”
Ray Ray nodded, but he did not look at the jury. Instead, he kept his eyes focused on Bo, who remained standing. ”Andy Walton was the Imperial Wizard of the Tennessee Chapter. He was our leader, and it was he who organized the mob that night.” Ray Ray paused. ”Roosevelt's hands were tied behind his back and he was placed on top of a horse. Dr. George Curtis and Larry Tucker held the horse, while Andy wrapped the noose around Roosevelt's neck.”
From the jury box Rick heard sniffles. Millie Sanderson was now crying.
”I remember Andy said something right before . . . something about Roosevelt laying hands on Ms. Maggie. Then Roosevelt said something back. Then”-Ray Ray paused and hung his head in shame-”Andy slapped the back end of the horse, and George and Larry let go.”
The courtroom had now become a chorus of dismay. From her perch on the front row of the courtroom behind the defense table, Jasmine Haynes unabashedly cried, holding a handkerchief to dab her eyes. Rick felt dampness on his own cheeks as the gravity of the moment sunk in. Forty-five years . . .
”The other seven were Ferriday Montaigne, Samuel Baeder, Bull Campbell, Alvin Jennings, Rudy Snow, myself and”-Ray Ray paused, gazing with blank eyes at the prosecution table-”Ennis Petrie.”
There was a collective gasp from the gallery, and Rick turned to look at the prosecution table, where Sheriff Ennis Petrie held his head in his hands. Unbelievable, he thought. He turned to Bo, who was likewise gazing at the sheriff in disbelief.
”Your Honor, I have no further que- ”
”Wait.” Ray Ray's voice shook with emotion as he kept his eyes fixed on Bo. ”There's one more thing I need to say.”
Bo straightened his back and sucked in his chest as if to steel himself to whatever bombsh.e.l.l Ray Ray was about to hurl now.
Rick knew a speech by the witness was improper, and he expected an objection from the prosecution table. But Helen Lewis remained glued to her chair. ”OK, Ray Ray, what do you need to say?”
”On the night of Andy Walton's murder, George Curtis asked me to watch Bo's office. My office is two doors down from Bo's, so I have an un.o.bstructed view. At just before midnight on August 18, 2011, I saw Bo Haynes park his Lexus on the curb on First Street and stumble into his office.” Ray Ray paused, looking straight at the jury. ”Ten minutes later, while Bo Haynes was still inside his office, I saw another man drive off in Bo's Lexus.”
”Who?” Rick asked.
”Dr. George Curtis,” Ray Ray said.
73.
”Cross-examination, General?” Judge Connelly's voice was somber, as she, like everyone else in the courtroom, was still in shock over Ray Ray Pickalew's testimony.
”No, Your Honor,” Helen said, managing to sound calm and collected. ”If it pleases the court, the prosecution would ask for a short recess.”
Connelly nodded and shot a glance at the witness stand, where Ray Ray Pickalew remained in the chair. ”I think that is a good idea, General. I think . . . we could all use a break right now.”
As the jury filed out of the courtroom, five sheriff's deputies entered and surrounded the prosecution table.
Judge Connelly addressed one of them. ”Deputy Springfield, please take Sheriff Petrie and Mr. Pickalew into custody. And I suspect you will want to dispatch a couple officers to pick up Mr. Tucker and Dr. Curtis.”
After two of the deputies led Ennis Petrie out of the courtroom, the deputy strode toward the witness stand. Ray Ray stood and held his hands out as Hank applied the handcuffs.
”Raymond Pickalew,” Hank began, looking over at Bo as he continued to talk, ”you are under arrest for the murder of Franklin Roosevelt Haynes. You have the right to remain silent . . .”
74.
At 4:30 p.m. Judge Connelly called the courtroom back to order. After the jury was seated in their twelve chairs, she cleared her throat and motioned toward the prosecution table. ”General Lewis, you said during the break that you would like to file a motion.”
Helen Lewis rose to her feet and stood like a statue. ”Your Honor, based on new evidence that has just surfaced today, the State of Tennessee hereby moves to dismiss all charges against the defendant, Bocephus Aurulius Haynes.”
For a moment a stunned silence enveloped the courtroom. Then several shrieks and one ”Hallelujah” came from the gallery. Several members of the print media were already moving toward the double doors. Once they were outside, their laptops and iPads would be out, tweets and blog updates being sent to their hordes of followers. In the front row Maggie Walton sat motionless, gazing into s.p.a.ce.