Chapters (86)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- ThursdayChapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- FridayChapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- SaturdayChapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- SundayChapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- MondayChapter 20
- Chapter 21
- TuesdayChapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- WednesdayChapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- ThursdayChapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Chapter 55
- Chapter 56
- Chapter 57
- Chapter 58
- Chapter 59
- Chapter 60
- Chapter 61
- FridayChapter 62
- Chapter 63
- Chapter 64
- Chapter 65
- Chapter 66
- Chapter 67
- Chapter 68
- Chapter 69
- Chapter 70
- Chapter 71
- Chapter 72
- Chapter 73
- Chapter 74
- Chapter 75
- Chapter 76
- Chapter 77
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- About the Author
- Also by Greg Iles
- About the Publisher
And keep talking Shad does. He launches into a long, sequential outline of the facts of the case—who did what, and when; who knew what, and when—when he should be saving all that for his case in chief. Most of these facts are already known to me, through my illegal contact with Jewel Washington, the county coroner and a loyal supporter of my father. (Jewel has friends in the sheriff’s department, the police department, the courthouse, and every other institution that matters in this county, thank God.) As Shad laboriously guides the jury through a timeline involving Viola and her sister, Cora, my mind begins to wander.
I can’t count the times I’ve done what Shad is doing: outlining the facts of a murder to a jury that is sometimes bored, other times riveted by what you have to tell them. The only thing different about this case is that everyone in the jury box is already familiar with the facts to some degree, and every one of them knows or knows of my father. One might think that would be grounds for a change of venue, but in Mississippi only the defense can request a change of venue, and Quentin made no such request. And as with every other facet of my father’s defense, Quentin did not seek my opinion on this.
The most alarming thing Quentin has done to date, though, is fail to request “discovery” from the State. In most states, the defense is entitled to examine any and all evidence against the accused in possession of the prosecutors, including exculpatory evidence, as well as a list of all witnesses the State intends to call. In short, the defense is entitled to see everything the State has, in advance. Likewise, the prosecution is entitled to see whatever the defense has, as well as a list of witnesses the defense intends to call. In Mississippi, however, nothing about this process is automatic. The defense attorney must request discovery, and by so doing, he agrees to reciprocally show the State the same courtesy. It’s the adult version of “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Yet even though this process is not automatic by law, in practice it has become so, because no defense attorney would dare enter a courtroom to face the vast power of the State without having the most complete possible inventory of what he was up against.
Except Quentin Avery.