Free Let the Circle Be Unbroken by Mildred D. Taylor Page B

hesitation, Mrs. Barnett dismissed three of the men as being either too tall or too short. She said the remaining two were the right height. The two were R.W. and Melvin.
    “And how can you be so certain about the height?” Mr. Jamison asked her.
    “’Cause Jim Lee and them two he was fighting with werenear to the same height. Jim Lee was five ten. Them two gentlemen standing next to you look to be near the same height as you from here, and Jim Lee and you was the same.”
    “How tall was the man behind the counter?”
    “Well, I didn’t much pay attention to him. He never got close to Jim Lee.”
    Mr. Jamison turned to Melvin and R.W. and asked them their heights. They blanched, looking uneasy. “It’s just to get a fix on the height of the intruders, gentlemen,” Mr. Jamison assured them. “Nothing personal.” The Simmses glared at him suspiciously, but gave their heights: five feet nine inches and five feet ten and a half inches.
    Mr. Jamison then asked that T.J. be brought down the aisle. Slowly T.J. stood and I saw that his hands, which he had kept under the table, were cuffed; his legs were free. Led by Deputy Haynes, he walked toward Mr. Jamison and stood beside R.W. and Melvin Simms. The courtroom was silent as everyone noted the difference in size. T.J. was much shorter and smaller.
    “Mrs. Barnett, look at T.J. carefully now,” Mr. Jamison directed. “Having just identified men of five ten and a half, and five nine of being the approximate height of the men who fought and struck your husband, can you say that T.J. was one of these men?”
    Mrs. Barnett bit into her lip. There could be only one answer. But Mrs. Barnett said, “I don’t know . . . it was dark. . . .”
    “Not that dark. You yourself said that throughout there was light from the flashlight. That you could see. Now, was T.J. one of the men?”
    Mrs. Barnett put on her glasses and replied crisply, “I can’t be certain.” Mr. Jamison gazed at her with greatpatience. “Well . . . maybe he wasn’t. . . .  I can’t be sure. . . .”
    “Can’t you?” Mr. Jamison’s voice was suddenly stern. “You just told this court that the two men who—”
    Mr. Macabee jumped up and objected. He said that Mrs. Barnett had already given her answer and that should satisfy the court. Judge Havershack agreed. He ordered R.W. and Melvin to sit down and for Deputy Haynes to bring T.J. back to the defender’s table.
    Mr. Jamison turned again to Mrs. Barnett. Softly, he said, “Mrs. Barnett, I know you want—as does most everyone in this room including myself—the murderer of your husband to pay for his terrible crime. Now, with that in mind, I want you to think very carefully about this next question.” He paused as if trying to put the question right in his mind before saying it. But to my surprise, he asked no question right then. Instead, he walked over to the court table and opened a thin box and lifted out its contents. Walking back to Mrs. Barnett, he displayed what was in the box: two black stockings.
    “Mrs. Barnett, these as you know are ladies’ stockings. They were found in the trash outside your door the day after your husband was murdered. Such items are, of course, usually worn in times of grief.” He nodded at Mrs. Barnett, who crimsoned just a bit and tucked her own blackened legs farther inward to her chair. “Or sometimes just to give an aura of blackness. Now, ma’am, please forgive the personal question, but outside your time of mourning as now, have you worn stockings of this coloring?”
    Mrs. Barnett said she hadn’t, and to Mr. Jamison’s question as to whether or not she had been in mourning at any time during the past year and had perhaps just thrown away such stockings, she again said she had not.
    “Now, Mrs. Barnett, please look at my hand.” Mr. Jamison held up his hand for her to see, then slipped it inside one of the stockings. “What color does my hand appear to be?”
    Mrs. Barnett