He next saw Sara Chisum staring at him. Her look was worried and somewhat pleading. Robie guessed that she was fearful that what she had told him would end up as public knowledge. He inclined his head slightly at her, trying to be reassuring. As he lifted it back up her father was staring dead at him. He looked from Sara to Robie and then at his daughter once more. He said something to her. She went pale and immediately looked down.
Mr. Chisum turned back to Robie and gave him an expression that was, politely put, uncharitable, particularly given he was a man of the cloth.
Robie looked away when Taggert opened the door she was standing guard by, and there he was.
Dan Robie was dressed in an orange prison jumpsuit, the same outfit he had no doubt seen other prisoners wear many times in his courtroom. His white hair was neatly combed, his chin shaved, his physique still formidable, and his posture bolt upright, even as he shuffled along in the shiny shackles binding his waist, hands, and feet.
Taggert and another uniform escorted Robie to the counsel table, unshackled him, and he sat there alone. He had on a pair of wire-rimmed glasses. His hands were tanned, big, veiny, and balled into fists as he rested them on the worn wood of the table.
Robie watched as Davis cocked his head and glanced at the man he would shortly be prosecuting across the width of the space between the tables.
Robie could not see Davis’s expression but supposed it was one of barely contained glee.
Taggert looked at her watch, took a step back, and announced, “All rise for the Honorable Judith Benson.”
They all did as the back door to the courtroom opened and out stepped a woman, tall and big shouldered, with short, graying hair. She had on thick glasses and carried herself with assuredness as she climbed the steps to the raised bench and sank down in her chair.
“Be seated,” said Taggert as soon as the woman’s butt had hit the leather.
“Call the case, please,” said Benson, her tone no-nonsense.
Taggert picked up a clipboard and called out, “State of Mississippi versus Daniel Robie. Charged with murder in the first degree for the willful killing of Sherman Clancy. This here is the arraignment hearing.”
She put the clipboard down and stepped back.
Judge Benson ran her gaze first over the courtroom and then she eyed Davis and then Dan Robie. She came away puzzled.
“Does the defendant not have counsel?” she asked.
Davis rose. “Your Honor, over the state’s heated objections, defendant has waived the right to counsel and desires to represent himself.”
Benson did not look pleased by this. Her gaze swiveled to Dan Robie.
“Mr. Robie, you understand that the charges leveled against you could result in your imprisonment for the remainder of your life or even bein’ put to death?”
Robie stood. “I do.”
“And with that in mind you still do not desire counsel?”
“I believe that I am my own best counsel, Your Honor.”
“I have no doubts as to your legal abilities, but I want you to understand that I strongly recommend that you seek independent legal counsel. As you well know if you cannot afford one, counsel will be appointed for you.”
“I understand that, but I stand by my decision.”
“We will revisit this question, Mr. Robie, at a later date. How do you plead, sir?”
“Not guilty,” Robie said immediately.
She turned to Davis.
“Counsel?”
Davis strode out in front of the table to let everyone get a better look at him. Hands in his pockets he said, “Your Honor, everybody hereabouts knows Dan Robie. He’s been a member of the Mississippi bar for a long time. And as you well know, for many a year he sat in the very seat you are now currently occupyin’.”
Benson looked annoyed. “We can forgo the history lesson, Mr. Davis. We are only here for an arraignment. Defendant has pleaded not guilty. Let me hear your position on bail.”
“We request that no bail be set, Your Honor. Instead we ask that the defendant be remanded into the custody of the Cantrell jail until his trial.”
She looked askance at him. “I realize that the charge is a serious one, but do I understand that you’re not proposin’ any bail whatsoever?”
“No, Your Honor, we are not.”
She looked at Dan Robie.
“Mr. Robie, you care to respond?”
Robie cleared his throat and said, “I’ve lived in Cantrell for the better part of my life, Your Honor. I have substantial ties here. My wife and young child are here. I own a home here, and I have a job here. I have no criminal history whatsoever. I’ve never even been cited for speedin’. I do not represent a flight risk and thus I argue that reasonable bail is appropriate and should be set, regardless of the seriousness of the charges, to which I have, this day, emphatically pleaded not guilty.”
“Mr. Davis?” said Benson. “Care to rebut that?”
“I agree on all points with the defendant, Your Honor. Perhaps I did not explain myself adequately.”
“Apparently you did not,” said Benson in a chiding tone.
“I do not necessarily consider the defendant a flight risk. But it has come to our attention that it would be safer for the defendant to remain in jail pendin’ his trial.”
Benson hiked her eyebrows. “Safer? Can you explain that?”
“To come to the point, Your Honor, we have received threats against the defendant’s life.” He pulled some pieces of paper from his briefcase and asked permission to approach the bench. It was granted and he showed her the pages.
She read over them slowly and then handed them back.
“You consider these credible?”
“We do.”
“You understand that simply because the defendant has been threatened does not necessarily mean he should be kept locked up? The state does have a duty to protect him from such illegal threats regardless of the charges against him.”
“Of course we do, Your Honor, but we must be practical, too. We’re not a big city with lots of deputies available to watch over the defendant twenty-four hours a day. I sincerely want him to remain safe so that he may be tried for the crimes he’s charged with. And I don’t want his bein’ free on bail to serve as an incitement for others to commit the very same act with which he’s charged. I hope you can understand my dilemma.”
Benson looked uncertain for the first t
ime. She glanced at Dan Robie.
“Mr. Robie, do you have anything else to say?”
“Only that I can take care of myself, Your Honor. And anyone seekin’ to harm me or those connected to me would do well to rethink such action because it will end in a way other than what they intend.”
As he said this Dan Robie turned and looked over the entire courtroom.
When his gaze hit upon his son he stopped, but only for an instant. Then he kept going and turned back around.
Benson nodded. “I will take the arguments under consideration. Until such time as I render a decision the defendant will be remanded into the custody of the State of Mississippi.”