Read Online A Covenant with Death by Stephen Becker - Free Book Online Page A

Latin lust, consort to the Whore of Babylon; Catholicism itself was somehow like a fat woman flirting with the Devil. And among the Negroes because clearly there was no way to blame this enormity on a black man, and we all knew—but no one dared say—that we kept Negroes where they were and how they were not because they were evil but because we were and it was easier to ignore that by inventing a reservoir of exotic and enigmatic ruffians. And among the “best people” because they could conveniently and righteously disown Talbot, hate him and fear him openly without feeling at all immoral or unChristian; to them he was like a naked baby in a front yard, a red shirt at a funeral, burlesque, a colored Congressman from Chicago, or a boy and a girl in the back seat of a Locomobile. Solidarity had come to the town, and Bryan Talbot was the common enemy, and everyone had a reason to be happy. Bryan Talbot had sinned against God and broken ancient laws, and for a few days everyone else in Soledad City felt virtuous.
    Normally jurors are reluctant to serve. The variety of their excuses, the imagination and industry lavished on them, would do credit to a surrealist. The veniremen are all indispensable at their offices, plants, stores, or farms. Their wives are sick and they have many children. They have weak bladders and are unable to sit still for more than an hour. They have strong opinions on the crime at issue and would be unable to render an unemotional verdict. A business deal six months in the making is to be consummated this week. Their religion does not permit them to assist the state in punishing evildoers. They are friends of one or another lawyer, plaintiff, or defendant. They are subject to headaches that warp their judgment. They are recovering from typhoid. Their mare is about to foal or their prize black-and-tan to throw a litter. They are on a special diet for rheumatism. They become hysterical when locked in a room. They have boils and cannot abide wooden benches.
    Normally. Not this time. Never since have I seen so many able-bodied Americans oppressed by a surplus of leisure and asking only to devote their hours to the state. The venire facias had been answered by thirty of the most eager public servants this side of William Jennings Bryan, who had just been elected a commissioner by the Presbytery of Southeastern Florida.
    The first two veniremen were accepted without a murmur, upright citizens named Sawyer (an engineer at the waterworks) and Meldrum (a butcher).
    Dietrich had no questions.
    Nor had Parmelee. Not even about capital punishment.
    Hochstadter almost let his eyebrows rise. There was a gentle buzz in the audience; Hochstadter rapped once, and the next candidate was introduced. His name was Diego Gutiérrez.
    Dietrich had no questions.
    Nor had Parmelee. Not even about capital punishment.
    Hochstadter looked thoughtful.
    In twenty minutes six veniremen had been accepted. The seventh was a Mrs. Arthur Dodd.
    Dietrich had no objections, but Parmelee challenged for cause.
    Hochstadter nodded; he seemed relieved. “Please state the cause.”
    â€œThe victim of the crime was a woman; accused is a man.”
    â€œAnd you feel that a woman might be swayed by her emotions.”
    â€œThat is correct.”
    â€œThe lady may be excused,” Hochstadter said. Mrs. Dodd looked as if she would weep. “I’m sorry, madam. I believe counsel’s point is well taken. May I ask”—he turned to Parmelee—“that you state your grounds more fully in the future.”
    Parmelee bowed. “Of course, Your Honor.”
    And that, incredibly, was that. Parmelee challenged another woman, who was dismissed; and the jury was complete, with two alternates, in less than an hour. Parmelee had challenged no man. He was sure. He was staking everything on one roll. He worried me.
    Emil Dietrich’s opening statement was a model. So far the town had nourished itself on