by John Grisham
Driving home, they discussed whether the trips to Whitfield were worth the trouble.
* * *
—
After Christmas, the music stopped and the cold rains began. Making merry became a chore, and even the pink cottage, with its eccentricities, was enveloped in moodiness. Stella suddenly needed to return to Hollins to finish some vague projects. Florry spent more time in her room reading and listening to opera.
To escape the gloom, Joel left a day early and returned to Oxford. When the law school opened, he eagerly checked his grades and was pleased with his first-semester test scores.
At the end of January, he found himself back in federal court as a representative of the family. A magistrate had scheduled a pretrial hearing and all lawyers were present. Florry, as executrix of the estate of Pete Banning, was supposed to attend, but, typically, she called in sick with the flu. Besides, Joel was already in Oxford and he could certainly handle things.
Joel nervously sat at one table between John and Russell Wilbanks, and kept an eye on Burch Dunlap and his associate at the other table. Just being in the same arena with Dunlap was terrifying.
The magistrate covered the list of all potential witnesses at trial and wanted summaries of the testimony of each. The lawyers politely discussed exhibits, jury lists, the usual pretrial details. The magistrate studied his calendar and announced a trial date of February 24, barely a month away. He then asked if there was any chance of settling the case without going to trial. The lawyers looked at each other and it was obvious they had not yet reached that point.
Burch Dunlap stood and said, “Well, Your Honor, I am always ready and willing to settle, on good terms of course. As you are aware, we have another lawsuit pending in the Chancery Court of Ford County in which we are attempting to set aside the conveyance by the deceased of his section of land to his children. This happened three weeks before the murder. We’ve had the land appraised.” He picked up a binder and sort of waved it at the magistrate. “The land is worth $100 an acre, or about $65,000 total, and we firmly believe this land belongs in the estate of Pete Banning, and is therefore subject to the claim of our client, Mrs. Jackie Bell. The home is appraised at $30,000, and there are other assets.”
John Wilbanks stood, smiling and shaking his head as if Dunlap were an idiot. “Those figures are much too high, Your Honor, and I’m not prepared to argue over them. But any talk of settlement is premature. We expect to prevail in Ford County and protect the acreage. And who knows what the jury will do in this case? Let’s allow the litigation to run its course; then we can have this discussion.”
“It might be too late, Mr. Wilbanks,” the magistrate said.
Listening to Burch Dunlap so casually discuss land that had been purchased, cleared, and plowed by Joel’s great-great-great-grandfather made his blood boil. How dare this gifted shyster toss around values of hard-gained assets and sums of someone else’s money as if bidding at an auction or wagering in a card game. Did he really intend to somehow squeeze the Bannings for everything they owned? And how much of the loot would his sticky fingers steal?
The lawyers swapped comments but made no progress. The magistrate called the next item on his docket. Outside the courthouse, Joel and John Wilbanks walked around the square while Russell ducked into a diner.
“We should at least discuss the possibility of settlement,” Wilbanks said.
“Okay. I’m listening,” Joel said.
“Dunlap is high with his numbers, but not outrageously so. We could offer them $20,000 in cash and see what happens. That’s a lot of money, Joel.”
“Damned sure is. Where would we find that much?”
“There’s about $15,000 in cash in the estate. You and Stella could mortgage the land. My family owns the bank, remember? I’m sure I can arrange a small loan.”
“So you want to offer $20,000?”
“Discuss it with Florry. I don’t need to remind you that the facts are not with us in this case. Your father did what he did and there’s no excuse for it. The jury will be sympathetic to the Bell family, and sympathy is our enemy.”
Chapter 39
Errol McLeish scoffed at the suggestion that Jackie settle so cheaply. Nor would they consider $25,000. McLeish wanted it all—the land, the house, the livestock, the people who worked there—and he had a plan to get it.
Late in February, he and Jackie drove to Oxford and checked into a hotel on the square. Same room, though they were not yet married.
The trial began on the morning of the twenty-fourth. Jackie, the plaintiff, sat with Dunlap and her lawyers, and was attractive in solid black. Florry, on tranquilizers, sat between John and Russell Wilbanks, with Joel right behind her.
When the opportunity had presented itself, Joel spoke to Jackie, shook her hand, and tried to be polite. She did not. She was the grieving widow, out for justice and revenge. Florry loathed her and never acknowledged her presence.
As Judge Stratton went through the preliminaries with the fifty or so prospective jurors, Joel turned and faced them and the spectators. There were a few reporters in the front row. The doors opened, and much to his dismay a class of third-year law students filed in with their professor. It was a federal procedure class, and since the trial had some notoriety, it needed to be studied. He noticed a few other law students in the crowd, watching intently. At that moment, he wished he had chosen another law school on a campus in another state.
The morning was consumed with jury selection, and by noon six had been selected and seated. A seventh would sit as the alternate. Since it was a civil case, four votes would be needed for a verdict. Three to three would hang and cause a retrial.
After lunch, Burch Dunlap walked to the podium in front of the jury box, straightened his fine silk tie, flashed a big smile, and welcomed the jurors to the center of justice. Joel watched every move, absorbed every word, and in his biased opinion Dunlap was a bit sappy in his gratitude for the jurors’ time and service, but he soon got down to business. He explained the facts and said liability was clear. It was a cold-blooded murder that led to a just execution of a man they would not meet. The real defendant was dead; therefore, under the law, the plaintiff was forced to proceed against his estate. Much of the trial would revolve around the value of Dexter Bell’s life, a value that could not really be measured. Dunlap suggested no amount; that would certainly come later. But he left no doubt that Reverend Bell was an extraordinary man, superb father, devoted pastor, and so on, and his life was worth a lot of money, even though he earned little as a preacher.
As Dunlap spoke with great eloquence, Joel could almost feel the family’s assets slipping away. Several times during his opening statement, Dunlap referred to Pete Banning as a “wealthy farmer” and a “rich landowner.” Each time Joel heard it, he flinched and glanced at the jurors. He and Stella had not been raised to believe their family was wealthy, and being described as such by a silver-tongued orator was discomfiting. The jurors, all middle-class at most, seemed to be onboard. Rich farmer murders poor preacher. The theme was established at the very beginning of the trial, and it would stick with the jurors until the end.
John Wilbanks made a brief opening statement in which he asked the jurors if it was really fair to make the family of a man convicted of murder pay the price for his sins. Pete Banning’s family had done nothing wrong, absolutely nothing. Through no fault of their own, his children had also lost a father. Why should they be punished? Hadn’t the Banning family been punished enough? The lawsuit was nothing but a naked grab for the hard-earned money of a family that had toiled the soil for decades, fine, honest, hardworking people who were not rich and were not wealthy and should not be subjected to such claims. In Joel’s biased opinion, John Wilbanks did a splendid job of portraying the plaintiff as opportunistic and money hungry. He was almost indignant when he sat down.
The first witness was Jackie
Bell, and just as she had done some thirteen months earlier in Clanton, she took the stand in a very tight dress and was soon crying. As she described finding her dead husband, the jurors, all men, absorbed every word and seemed quite sympathetic. John Wilbanks passed on cross-examination.
Nix Gridley was next. He laid out the crime scene as he’d found it, produced the same enlarged photos of poor Dexter bleeding out, showed the jury the Colt .45 owned by the accused, and stated to a certainty that Pete Banning, a man he had known well, had indeed been executed in the electric chair. Nix witnessed the execution, and had been present when the coroner pronounced Pete dead.
After Nix was excused, Burch Dunlap entered into evidence, without objection, certified copies of the court orders finding Pete guilty of the first-degree murder of Dexter Bell, and the orders from the supreme court affirming his conviction.
After the first long day of trial, it had been clearly established that Pete Banning murdered Dexter Bell and had paid with his life. Finally, thought Joel. While it was the same old dreary news to him, it was riveting to the jurors.
With causation established, the trial moved to the question of damages. At nine Thursday morning, Jackie Bell returned to the witness stand and produced the family’s tax returns for the years 1940 through 1945. At the time of his death Dexter was being paid a salary of $2,400 a year by the Methodist church of Clanton, and had not received a raise since 1942. He had no other income, nor did she. The family lived in a parsonage provided at no cost by the church, with utilities included in the package. Obviously, the family lived frugally but that was the life they had chosen and they had been content with it.
She was excused, and Dunlap called as an expert witness an economics professor from Ole Miss, one Dr. Potter. He held several degrees, had written a few books, and it was immediately apparent he knew more about money and finances than anyone else in the courtroom. John Wilbanks prodded with a few questions about his field of expertise, but was careful not to push too hard and get embarrassed.
On direct from Burch Dunlap, Dr. Potter went through the history of Dexter Bell’s earnings as a pastor, compared that history to other ministers on similar paths, and crunched all manner of numbers. At the time of his death, at the age of thirty-nine, Dexter’s total compensation was, in Potter’s opinion, $3,300 per year. Assuming a conservative annual rate of inflation of 2 percent, and assuming Dexter would work until he was seventy years old, which was the norm for ministers in 1948, then his expected future lifetime earnings amounted to $106,000.
Dunlap produced large color graphs and charts as he walked Dr. Potter through the numbers, and managed to convey to the jurors that the money being discussed was real, hard cash that had been taken away from the Bell family because of Dexter’s untimely death.
On cross-examination, John Wilbanks hit Dr. Potter hard with some of his assumptions. Was it fair to assume Dexter would work until the age of seventy? Fair to assume he would always be employed? Fair to assume a constant rate of inflation? And unending pay raises? Fair to assume his wife would not remarry a husband who earned far more? Wilbanks cast some doubt and scored some points, but, at least to Joel, he was attacking numbers that were so modest to begin with. Preachers earned little. Why make their meager salaries appear even less valuable?
The next witness was a real estate appraiser from Tupelo. After establishing his qualifications, Dunlap asked him if he had appraised the Banning property. He said that indeed he had and offered a binder. John Wilbanks practically exploded and objected to further testimony. This skirmish was expected and had not been settled before the trial.
Wilbanks argued strongly that the land did not belong to Pete Banning and was not to be included in his estate. Pete had gifted it to his children, in much the same manner as his parents and grandparents and great-grandparents had handed it down. He produced certified copies of the deed to Joel and Stella.
Dunlap roared back that the conveyance by Pete was fraudulent, and this upset Judge Stratton. He lectured Dunlap on using such prejudicial words as “fraudulent” when nothing had been proven. Wilbanks reminded the judge and Dunlap that there was another lawsuit pending in the Chancery Court of Ford County that dealt with the transfer of the land. Judge Stratton agreed and ruled that Dunlap could not attempt to prove that Pete Banning owned the land when he died. That matter had not been settled.
It was a crucial win for the defense, and Dunlap apparently had miscalculated. However, he was an actor onstage and soon collected himself. After the appraiser left, he called Florry to the stand as an adverse witness. Wilbanks anticipated this and had tried to prep her for the ordeal. He assured her she would not be on the stand for long, but she was still a wreck.
After a few preliminary questions, Dunlap asked her if she was the executrix of her brother’s estate. Yes. And when was she appointed? Ignoring the stares of the jurors and locking in on the friendly face of her nephew, Florry explained that her brother, Pete, made a new will after he was sentenced to die. Dunlap presented a certified copy of the will and asked her to identify it, which she did.
Dunlap said, “Thank you. Now, pursuant to the law, and to the advice of Mr. Wilbanks here, have you filed an inventory of the assets and liabilities of the estate of Pete Banning?”
“Yes.” Wilbanks demanded that she keep her answers short.
Dunlap picked up some more papers and handed them to Florry. He asked, “Do you recognize this as the inventory you filed in his estate in November of last year?”
“Yes.”
“Once it’s filed it’s public record, right?”
“I suppose. You’re the lawyer.”
“This is true. Now, Miss Banning, if you will, would you please look at the list of assets that you filed in this inventory, paragraph C, second page, and read them to the jury?”
“Why can’t they just read it themselves?”
“Please, Miss Banning.”
Florry made a fuss out of adjusting her reading glasses, flipping a page, locating paragraph C, all performed in obvious frustration. Finally, she said, “Well, number one is Pete’s personal checking account at First State, balance of $1,800. Number two is his farm account, same bank, $5,300. Number three is his savings account, same bank, $7,100. Is that enough?”
“Please read on, Miss Banning,” Dunlap replied patiently.
“A 1946 Ford pickup truck, Pete bought it new when he came home from the war, approximate value of $750. I suppose you want to take that too.”
“Please continue, Miss Banning.”
“His car, a 1939 Pontiac, value of $600.” Joel shifted his weight as he pondered the loss of the car, one he had been driving since last summer.
Florry went on to testify that the estate included two John Deere tractors, some trailers and plows, and other assorted items of farm equipment, all appraised at $9,000. It was indeed a farm, complete with the usual collection of pigs, chickens, cows, goats, mules, and horses, and an auctioneer had placed a value on the animals of $3,000. “Plus or minus a chicken or two,” she said like a real smart-ass.
“And that’s all,” she said. “Unless you want his boots and underwear.”
She explained that Pete owed no money when he died and no claims had been registered against his estate.
“And what’s the value of the Banning mansion?” Dunlap asked loudly.
John Wilbanks bolted to his feet and growled, “Objection, Your Honor! The house is not separate from the land, and the land was deeded to the children. We just had this argument.”
“Indeed we did,” Judge Stratton said, obviously annoyed with Dunlap, who mumbled something like “I’ll withdraw the question.”
Withdrawn or otherwise, the word “mansion” hung in the air. When Florry was excused and stepped down, Joel glanced at the jurors and was not comforted by their faces. The rich guy who lived in the mansion had killed a humble se
rvant of God, and justice was in order.
* * *
—
In the usual course of a wrongful death trial, the defense would contest liability with a parade of witnesses all testifying that the death was not caused by the accused, or that the deceased was at least partially responsible through his own negligence. Not so in Bell v. Estate of Banning. John Wilbanks could offer nothing to create even the slightest doubt about the cause of death, and to attempt such a feeble effort would risk losing what little credibility he had.
Instead, he chose to nibble around the edges of the damages and lighten the impact of the verdict. He called his only witness, another economics expert, and one from California, of all places. Wilbanks believed in the old maxim that, at least in litigation, the farther an expert traveled the more valid his testimony.
His name was Dr. Satterfield and he taught at Stanford. He’d written books and testified a lot. The gist of his testimony was that the total sum of Dexter Bell’s future earnings, whatever figure the jury accepted, must be reduced significantly to show a fair picture of its present value. Using a large colored chart, he tried to explain to the jury that, for example, $1,000 paid each year for ten straight years equals $10,000. Simple enough. But if ten thousand was given in a lump sum right now, the recipient would be able to turn around and invest that money, and the eventual earnings would be much greater. Therefore, it was only fair to reduce the immediate payment—that is, the verdict—to a present value.
Dr. Satterfield explained that this method had been adopted by courts across the country in similar cases. He implied that perhaps Mississippi was a bit behind the curve, and this did not sit well with the jurors. His bottom line, when a “more likely rate of inflation was applied,” was the figure of $41,000 in lost future earnings for the family of Reverend Bell.