Harrison turned around and started back to the table. He suddenly stopped. His voice turned hard, angry. "If a man ever was in need of killing, Walter Adderley surely was. Any man who beats a woman ought to die. Adam didn't kill him though. The evidence I've collected and will show you will prove his innocence. I'll tell you one thing though. If I were wearing his shoes, and someone, even my father, was beating on my mama, I don't believe I would have been honorable. I think I'd have to kill him if he raised a hand against my mama. Yes, sir, I would."

John Morrison and two others gave quick nods.

Every one of the jurors remembered his own mother. In most instances, mamas were sacred to their sons. None of them liked Walter Adderley much now.

It was just the beginning. Harrison wanted them to hate the man, and then he would slowly turn that hatred toward the two sons.

It was still a black man up against two white men. The odds weren't in Adam's favor yet. Harrison was going to turn the focus. People who didn't know any better tended to hate anyone different from them, and Harrison was assuming that while the jurors might be sympathetic to Adam, they'd hang him all the same.

Unless there was someone else they could hate more.

His next task was to get all of them to like Adam. His voice took on a story-reading tone when he said, "I'm only going to take another minute of your time. I think you ought to know a little about Adam Clayborne. Fact is, I think you have to be real curious about all of them. The Claybornes don't like talking about themselves. They're private, just like all of you, but I think you should hear how they all got together and formed their own family.

"After Walter Adderley died, Adam went to New York City. He slept in an alley with three other boys. Douglas and Travis and Cole were younger than Adam was, so they looked up to him to take care of them. It was quite a responsibility for a thirteen-year-old boy to take on, wasn't it? Well, he'd saved every one of them from near death, and he figured he'd go on doing just that until he got caught and taken back down South. He was scared all right, but not because Walter Adderley had died. That was his own accident, not Adam's doing. Adam was scared because he'd touched him when he'd put his arms around his waist. He knew they'd kill him for that insolence. Yes, sir, trying to save a mama would have been called insolent."

Harrison paused to shake his head. "Well, now, one night they found a basket someone had thrown into the trash. Rats were climbing all over the thing, but Adam was able to get the basket away from the vermin. Little Mary Rose was inside. Like Travis and Douglas and Cole, she'd been thrown away. Lots of kids roamed the streets back then because their daddies didn't want them around any longer. Some were gathered up, tossed on trains, and sent west. Others died of starvation. Well, now, little Mary Rose was just four months old. The boys didn't want to take her to an orphanage because they knew what went on inside those places, and they all believed she wouldn't last long. They wanted her to have a chance at life. And that's when they decided to all take the name Clayborne and head west, where people have such fine morals and values. It took them a long while, but they made it to Blue Belle. Adam was the only one who could read, his mama had taught him how, and so he taught his brothers. They wanted to be educated for their sister. They wanted her to have a good life, you see. They had help too. Sweet Belle made little dresses for her and showed her how to be a little girl. Then families started settling into the area, and pretty soon Mary Rose had friends to play with. And family. She had family, just like everyone should be entitled to. The boys scrimped and saved and did without so she could have piano lessons. When she was old enough, they sent her to a boarding school in St. Louis. None of them had an easy time of it. No, sir, they didn't. But they had neighbors helping, and whenever one of their friends was in trouble, every one of the Claybornes came running to help.

"Mary Rose knows all about how she was found. She gets mad when one of her brothers calls her Sidney. It was the first name they gave her until they found out she was a girl. She was bald, you see, and so, because the boys were so young themselves, they figured she had to be a boy."

The jurors were smiling now. Harrison decided he'd said enough. "So now you know how they became a family. Mary Rose wasn't the thread that held them all together though, like the brothers believe. No, Adam kept them united. He's honorable and honest and good-hearted. If he'd killed someone, he'd be the first to admit it. Remember that, gentlemen. You're judging an honest man. Listen to what he has to say. Thank you."

There was a thunderous round of applause as Harrison took his seat. Even Judge Burns clapped for him.

He nodded to Harrison, took another gulp of water, and then called John Quincy Adam Clayborne to the stand.

Adam moved to the chair at the end of the judge's table. He sat as straight as a general.

"Did you kill Walter Adderley, Adam?" the judge asked.

"No, sir, I did not."

"Tell me what you recollect of that day."

Adam did just that. He spoke in a low voice. The room was as quiet as an empty cathedral, and the people in the back rows barely had to strain to hear his every word.

Adam left out the fact that he'd struck Adderley in the chin. The blow hadn't done any damage. The big man he was trying to get to leave Livonia alone didn't even flinch when he'd hit him. Besides, Harrison had told him to keep that information to himself.

"I got one last question to ask you before you go back to your chair, Adam. How come your mama didn't come here to live with all of you after the war was over and all the slaves were freed?"

"Mistress Livonia was almost blind back then and very dependent on my mother for every little thing. If you knew my mama, you'd understand she couldn't have turned her back on the helpless woman. She stayed on to take care of her."

"Livonia Adderley has two sons sitting right over there. Didn't they help their mother?"

"No, sir, they didn't."

"All right. You can get on back now."

The judge waited until Adam was sitting down at his table before he called his next witness. "Lionel Adderley, it's your turn to talk. Sit yourself down in the chair. I'll ask you questions as we go along, and when I'm done, Harrison will have his turn questioning you. What's all that commotion going on at the door, Dooley," he shouted.

"It's Miss Blue Belle, Judge. She's saying you told her she could come on in."

"Let her in then," the judge bellowed. "She can squeeze herself in next to Travis on the aisle there."

Everyone paused to watch Blue Belle stroll down the aisle. She smiled at the judge and sat down where he directed her.

"Thank you, Judge," she called out.

"You're welcome, Blue Belle. You sure look pretty today in your blue dress."

"Judge, honey, you know I always wear blue. I'm glad it pleases you."

He nodded, then turned to Lionel. He and Harrison both noticed the disgust on the southerner's face. Lionel was staring at Blue Belle while he sneered.

The judge's back arched in reaction, and his lips puckered.

"Tell me what you know, Lionel. Be quick about it."

"My brother and I found the nigger's letters to his mother. When we read them, we knew Adam had killed our father."

"Hold on now. I just read those same letters, and I didn't come away with that notion."

"The nigger admits running, doesn't he? He grabbed hold of my poor daddy too, didn't he? He knew the punishment for touching a white man, but he did it anyway. He should die for his murder and his insolence, and I'm here to see that he does. I'll admit he didn't write down that he killed my father. My brother and I went to our mother to find out exactly what happened. You've got the paper we wrote the facts down on as she told us the truth, and then we put a pen in her hand and she signed it. She says the nigger killed my father. That's all the proof you need."

"It's damning evidence all right," the judge agreed. "Were there any witnesses to your mother's confession?"

"Yes, my brother Reginald was there… and the nigger's mother. She didn't count though. A southerner knows better than to trust anything a nigger says."

Harrison could feel the hate oozing out of the man. He looked at the jury to see how they were reacting. They seemed uncomfortable, for several squirmed in their chairs, but they didn't hate Lionel Adderley. Yet.

It was time for him to go to work.

"It's your turn, Harrison."

He leaned close to Adam. "Don't believe a word I say. If I nod, you'll know I'm lying. Tell your brothers and sister, but don't let anyone else hear you."

Harrison made a lot of noise scraping his chair back to distract anyone from overhearing Adam speak to the family.

He walked to the judge's table first. "Well, now, maybe that's damning evidence, and then again, maybe it isn't. We're going to have to see about that, aren't we?"

"We surely are."

Harrison turned to Lionel. He stared at him a long half minute. He wanted the jurors to see the look of repulsion on his face.

His voice was mild and mellow when he began his interrogation. "I like to think I'm like my father, God rest his soul. He was a good man. Are you like your father, Lionel?"

"I suppose I am. I'm his proud son."

"Well, then, you admire him."

"Yes. Everyone admired my daddy."

"What happened after he died? Did things change around the plantation?"

"The war came. That's what happened."

"I'll bet you think your daddy could have stopped it from happening. You think so too, don't you, being such a proud-of-your-daddy son and all."

"We'll never know, will we?" Lionel sneered. "He might have stopped it. He would have made a difference in our lives though. We lost everything and Daddy never would have let that happen."

"How old were you when your daddy died?"

"Seventeen."

"And your younger brother? How old was he?"

"Twelve."

"Seventeen's old enough to fight. Did you sign up for duty, Lionel?"

"No, but only because I have a physical ailment that prevented me from serving in the Confederate Army."

"What might that ailment be, Lionel?"

"Do I have to tell, Judge?"

"Yes, you do."

"My feet," he snapped. "They're flat. I broke the arches. I can't walk long distances."

"Flat feet kept you out of the Confederate Army?"

"Yes."

Harrison didn't believe him. He knew no one else in the courtroom did either.

"Did your father ever strike you?"

"No, never."

He was lying again. Harrison walked over to the table, picked up a Bible, and held it out for Lionel to see.

The judge hadn't bothered with the formality of swearing everyone in. Harrison decided to correct that error now.

"When this court was called into session and Honorable John Burns walked inside, it was more than showing him the respect he's due. It was the signal to everyone here that what was said from that moment on would be truthful. I don't have any patience with perjury. You're wasting the jury's valuable time as well as the judge's. I now ask you once again, did your father ever strike you?"

Lionel shrugged. "A slap every now and then. Nothing like…"

Harrison leapt on the opening. "Nothing like what he did to your mother?"

"She provoked him," Lionel shouted. "A man's wife should be obedient. Mother knew that. She liked to pick fights with him. She knew he had a temper."

"Were some of the fights about you boys?"

"Maybe. I can't say."

"You can't? Well, now, I've got a signed statement from one of your neighbors who happened inside your house one day and saw you and Reginald hiding behind your mama's skirts while your father beat on her. She let him pound away so she could protect you."

"I was very young."

"You were sixteen. Almost a man. You were already bigger than your mama."

"You make it sound worse than it was."

Lionel turned to the judge. "My daddy's behavior isn't on trial here. That nigger boy is. Do your job and remind your attorney."

"Don't you go telling me my job," Burns growled.

"That's telling him, honey," Blue Belle called out.