A Time to Killby John Grisham
The life of a ten-year-old girl is shattered by two drunken and remorseless young men. The mostly white town of Clanton in Ford County, Mississippi, reacts with shock and horror at the inhuman crime./b>/b>/i>/i>
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Don’t miss a sneak peek of Sycamore Row, John Grisham’s new novel inspired by A Time to Kill, in the back of the book.
The life of a ten-year-old girl is shattered by two drunken and remorseless young men. The mostly white town of Clanton in Ford County, Mississippi, reacts with shock and horror at the inhuman crime. Until her black father acquires an assault rifle and takes justice into his own outraged hands.
For ten days, as burning crosses and the crack of sniper fire spread through the streets of Clanton, the nation sits spellbound as young defense attorney Jake Brigance struggles to save his client’s life–and then his own.
"Grisham excels!"—Dallas Times Herald
“Grisham is an absolute master.”—Washington Post
“Grisham enraptures us.”—Houston Chronicle
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BILLY RAY COBB was the younger and smaller of the two rednecks. At twenty-three he was already a three-year veteran of the state penitentiary at Parchman. Possession, with intent to sell. He was a lean, tough little punk who had survived prison by somehow maintaining a ready supply of drugs that he sold and sometimes gave to the blacks and the guards for protection. In the year since his release he had continued to prosper, and his small-time narcotics business had elevated him to the position of one of the more affluent rednecks in Ford County. He was a businessman, with employees, obligations, deals, everything but taxes. Down at the Ford place in Clanton he was known as the last man in recent history to pay cash for a new pickup truck. Sixteen thousand cash, for a custom-built, four-wheel drive, canary yellow, luxury Ford pickup. The fancy chrome wheels and mudgrip racing tires had been received in a business deal. The rebel flag hanging across the rear window had been stolen by Cobb from a drunken fraternity boy at an Ole Miss football game. The pickup was Billy Ray's most prized possession. He sat on the tailgate drinking a beer, smoking a joint, watching his friend Willard take his turn with the black girl.
Willard was four years older and a dozen years slower. He was generally a harmless sort who had never been in serious trouble and had never been seriously employed. Maybe an occasional fight with a night in jail, but nothing that would distinguish him. He called himself a pulpwood cutter, but a bad back customarily kept him out of the woods. He had hurt his back working on an offshore rig somewhere in the Gulf, and the oil company paid him a nice settlement, which he lost when his ex-wife cleaned him out. His primary vocation was that of a part-time employee of Billy Ray Cobb, who didn't pay much but was liberal with his dope. For the first time in years Willard could always get his hands on something. And he always needed something. He'd been that way since he hurt his back.
She was ten, and small for her age. She lay on her elbows, which were stuck and bound together with yellow nylon rope. Her legs were spread grotesquely with the right foot tied tight to an oak sapling and the left to a rotting, leaning post of a long-neglected fence. The ski rope had cut into her ankles and the blood ran down her legs. Her face was bloody and swollen, with one eye bulging and closed and the other eye half open so she could see the other white man sitting on the truck. She did not look at the man on top of her. He was breathing hard and sweating and cursing. He was hurting her.
When he finished, he slapped her and laughed, and the other man laughed in return, then they laughed harder and rolled around the grass by the truck like two crazy men, screaming and laughing. She turned away from them and cried softly, careful to keep herself quiet. She had been slapped earlier for crying and screaming. They promised to kill her if she didn't keep quiet.
They grew tired of laughing and pulled themselves onto the tailgate, where Willard cleaned himself with the little nigger's shirt, which by now was soaked with blood and sweat. Cobb handed him a cold beer from the cooler and commented on the humidity. They watched her as she sobbed and made strange, quiet sounds, then became still. Cobb's beer was half empty, and it was not cold anymore. He threw it at the girl. It hit her in the stomach, splashing white foam, and it rolled off in the dirt near some other cans, all of which had originated from the same cooler. For two six-packs now they had thrown their half-empty cans at her and laughed. Willard had trouble with the target, but Cobb was fairly accurate. They were not ones to waste beer, but the heavier cans could be felt better and it was great fun to watch the foam shoot everywhere.
The warm beer mixed with the dark blood and ran down her face and neck into a puddle behind her head. She did not move.
Willard asked Cobb if he thought she was dead. Cobb opened another beer and explained that she was not dead because niggers generally could not be killed by kicking and beating and raping. It took much more, something like a knife or a gun or a rope to dispose of a nigger. Although he had never taken part in such a killing, he had lived with a bunch of niggers in prison and knew all about them. They were always killing each other, and they always used a weapon of some sort. Those who were just beaten and raped never died. Some of the whites were beaten and raped, and some of them died. But none of the niggers. Their heads were harder. Willard seemed satisfied.
Willard asked what he planned to do now that they were through with her. Cobb sucked on his joint, chased it with beer, and said he wasn't through. He bounced from the tailgate and staggered across the small clearing to where she was tied. He cursed her and screamed at her to wake up, then he poured cold beer in her face, laughing like a crazy man.
She watched him as he walked around the tree on her right side, and she stared at him as he stared between her legs. When he lowered his pants she turned to the left and closed her eyes. He was hurting her again.
She looked out through the woods and saw something—a man running wildly through the vines and underbrush. It was her daddy, yelling and pointing at her and coming desperately to save her. She cried out for him, and he disappeared. She fell asleep.
When she awoke one of the men was lying under the tailgate, the other under a tree. They were asleep. Her arms and legs were numb. The blood and beer and urine had mixed with the dirt underneath her to form a sticky paste that glued her small body to the ground and crackled when she moved and wiggled. Escape, she thought, but her mightiest efforts moved her only a few inches to the right. Her feet were tied so high her buttocks barely touched the ground. Her legs and arms were so deadened they refused to move.
She searched the woods for her daddy and quietly called his name. She waited, then slept again.
When she awoke the second time they were up and moving around. The tall one staggered to her with a small knife. He grabbed her left ankle and sawed furiously on the rope until it gave way. Then he freed the right leg, and she curled into a fetal position with her back to them.
Cobb strung a length of quarter-inch ski rope over a limb and tied a loop in one end with a slip knot. He grabbed her and put the noose around her head, then walked across the clearing with the other end of the rope and sat on the tailgate, where Willard was smoking a fresh joint and grinning at Cobb for what he was about to do. Cobb pulled the rope tight, then gave a vicious yank, bouncing the little nude body along the ground and stopping it directly under the limb. She gagged and coughed, so he kindly loosened the rope to spare her a few more minutes. He tied the rope to the bumper and opened another beer.
They sat on the tailgate drinking, smoking, and staring at her. They had been at the lake most of the day, where Cobb had a friend with a boat and some extra girls who were supposed to be easy but turned out to be untouchable. Cobb had been generous with his drugs and beer, but the girls did not reciprocate. Frustrated, they left the lake and were driving to no place in particular when they happened across the girl. She was walking along a gravel road with a sack of groceries when Willard nailed her in the back of the head with a beer can.
"You gonna do it?" asked Willard, his eyes red and glazed.
Cobb hesitated. "Naw, I'll let you do it. It was your idea."
Willard took a drag on his joint, then spit and said, "Wasn't my idea. You're the expert on killin' niggers. Do it."
Cobb untied the rope from the bumper and pulled it tight. It peeled bark from the limb and sprinkled fine bits of elm around the girl, who was watching them carefully now. She coughed.
Suddenly, she heard something—like a car with loud pipes. The two men turned quickly and looked down the dirt road to the highway in the distance. They cursed and scrambled around, one slamming the tailgate and the other running toward her. He tripped and landed near her. They cursed each other while they grabbed her, removed the rope from her neck, dragged her to the pickup and threw her over the tailgate into the bed of the truck. Cobb slapped her and threatened to kill her if she did not lie still and keep quiet. He said he would take her home if she stayed down and did as told; otherwise, they would kill her. They slammed the doors and sped onto the dirt road. She was going home. She passed out.
Cobb and Willard waved at the Firebird with the loud pipes as it passed them on the narrow dirt road. Willard checked the back to make sure the little nigger was lying down. Cobb turned onto the highway and raced away.
"What now?" Willard asked nervously.
"Don't know," Cobb answered nervously. "But we gotta do something fast before she gets blood all over my truck. Look at her back there, she's bleedin' all over the place."
Willard thought for a minute while he finished a beer. "Let's throw her off a bridge," he said proudly.
"Good idea. Damned good idea." Cobb slammed on the brakes. "Gimme a beer," he ordered Willard, who stumbled out of the truck and fetched two beers from the back.
"She's even got blood on the cooler," he reported as they raced off again.
Gwen Hailey sensed something horrible. Normally she would have sent one of the three boys to the store, but they were being punished by their father and had been sentenced to weed-pulling in the garden. Tonya had been to the store before by herself—it was only a mile away—and had proven reliable. But after two hours Gwen sent the boys to look for their little sister. They figured she was down at the Pounders' house playing with the many Pounders kids, or maybe she had ventured past the store to visit her best friend, Bessie Pierson.
Mr. Bates at the store said she had come and gone an hour earlier. Jarvis, the middle boy, found a sack of groceries beside the road.
Gwen called her husband at the paper mill, then loaded Carl Lee, Jr., into the car and began driving the gravel roads around the store. They drove to a settlement of ancient shotgun houses on Graham Plantation to check with an aunt. They stopped at Broadway's store a mile from Bates Grocery and were told by a group of old black men that she had not been seen. They crisscrossed the gravel roads and dusty field roads for three square miles around their house.
Cobb could not find a bridge unoccupied by niggers with fishing poles. Every bridge they approached had four or five niggers hanging off the sides with large straw hats and cane poles, and under every bridge on the banks there would be another group sitting on buckets with the same straw hats and cane poles, motionless except for an occasional swat at a fly or a slap at a mosquito.
He was scared now. Willard had passed out and was of no help, and he was left alone to dispose of the girl in such a way that she could never tell. Willard snored as he frantically drove the gravel roads and county roads in search of a bridge or ramp on some river where he could stop and toss her without being seen by half a dozen niggers with straw hats. He looked in the mirror and saw her trying to stand. He slammed his brakes, and she crashed into the front of the bed, just under the window. Willard ricocheted off the dash into the floorboard, where he continued to snore. Cobb cursed them both equally.
Lake Chatulla was nothing more than a huge, shallow, man-made mudhole with a grass-covered dam running exactly one mile along one end. It sat in the far southwest corner of Ford County, with a few acres in Van Buren County. In the spring it would hold the distinction of being the largest body of water in Mississippi. But by late summer the rains were long gone, and the sun would cook the shallow water until the lake would dehydrate. Its once ambitious shorelines would retreat and move much closer together, creating a depthless basin of reddish brown water. It was fed from all directions by innumerable streams, creeks, sloughs, and a couple of currents large enough to be named rivers. The existence of all these tributaries necessarily gave rise to a good number of bridges near the lake.
It was over these bridges the yellow pickup flew in an all-out effort to find a suitable place to unload an unwanted passenger. Cobb was desperate. He knew of one other bridge, a narrow wooden one over Foggy Creek. As he approached, he saw niggers with cane poles, so he turned off a side road and stopped the truck. He lowered the tailgate, dragged her out, and threw her in a small ravine lined with kudzu.
Carl Lee Hailey did not hurry home. Gwen was easily excited, and she had called the mill numerous times when she thought the children had been kidnapped. He punched out at quitting time, and made the thirty-minute drive home in thirty minutes. Anxiety hit him when he turned onto his gravel drive and saw the patrol car parked next to the front porch. Other cars belonging to Gwen's family were scattered along the long drive and in the yard, and there was one car he didn't recognize. It had cane poles sticking out the side windows, and there were at least seven straw hats sitting in it.
Where were Tonya and the boys?
As he opened the front door he heard Gwen crying. To his right in the small living room he found a crowd huddled above a small figure lying on the couch. The child was covered with wet towels and surrounded by crying relatives. As he moved to the couch the crying stopped and the crowd backed away. Only Gwen stayed by the girl. She softly stroked her hair. He knelt beside the couch and touched the girl's shoulder. He spoke to his daughter, and she tried to smile. Her face was bloody pulp covered with knots and lacerations. Both eyes were swollen shut and bleeding. His eyes watered as he looked at her tiny body, completely wrapped in towels and bleeding from ankles to forehead.
Carl Lee asked Gwen what happened. She began shaking and wailing, and was led to the kitchen by her brother. Carl Lee stood and turned to the crowd and demanded to know what happened.
He asked for the third time. The deputy, Willie Hastings, one of Gwen's cousins, stepped forward and told Carl Lee that some people were fishing down by Foggy Creek when they saw Tonya lying in the middle of the road. She told them her daddy's name, and they brought her home.
Hastings shut up and stared at his feet.
Carl Lee stared at him and waited. Everyone else stopped breathing and watched the floor.
"What happened, Willie?" Carl Lee yelled as he stared at the deputy.
Hastings spoke slowly, and while staring out the window repeated what Tonya had told her mother about the white men and their pickup, and the rope and the trees, and being hurt when they got on her. Hastings stopped when he heard the siren from the ambulance.
The crowd filed solemnly through the front door and waited on the porch, where they watched the crew unload a stretcher and head for the house.
The paramedics stopped in the yard when the front door opened and Carl Lee walked out with his daughter in his arms. He whispered gently to her as huge tears dripped from his chin. He walked to the rear of the ambulance and stepped inside. The paramedics closed the door and carefully removed her from his embrace.
From the Paperback edition.
What People are Saying About This
"Grisham excels!"—Dallas Times Herald
“Grisham is an absolute master.”—Washington Post
“Grisham enraptures us.”—Houston Chronicle
Meet the Author
John Grisham is the author of The Brethren, The Testament, The Street Lawyer, The Partner, The Runaway Jury, The Rainmaker, The Chamber, The Client, The Pelican Brief, The Firm, and A Time to Kill.
- Oxford, Mississippi, and Albemarle County, Virginia
- Date of Birth:
- February 8, 1955
- Place of Birth:
- Jonesboro, Arkansas
- B.S., Mississippi State, 1977; J.D., University of Mississippi, 1981
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
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Horrifying and somehow beautiful at the same time; Grisham tells the story of a family shattered and a town rocked by a horrific crime committed against a child. The trial Grisham describes is fascinating and heart-breaking in its process. The movie was good but the book is truly a work of art. The author has a skill for making the reader feel like he/she's actually right there during the trial. Grisham has outdone himself with this one! I also enjoyed The Chamber and The Partner by the same author. If you like John Grisham, you may also enjoy: Philip Margolin, Tami Hoag (Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust and a Thin Dark Line especially, and Michael Connelly.
I read this book for the first time at least 12 years ago. It was not the first John Grisham book that I read but it is, and will always be, his BEST! I could not put it down until I finished it. Unforgettable!!
A Time to Kill by John Grisham is an excellent novel. The story takes place in the small town of Clanton, Mississippi. The story covers an uneasy relationship between blacks and whites. A black man named Carl Hailey kills two white men who are on trial for the rape of his little girl. The irony is that Carl Hailey is defended by a white attorney named Jake Brigance. The novel contains humor and action. The story is moving and emotional. I like that Jake Brigance is a young, white attorney who does what he feels is the right thing to do. He is so determined to keep Carl Hailey out of jail and let him return to his family that he suffers consequences in his own marriage and within the town. Some of the people around him treat him differently than before he made the decision to be Carl Hailey's lawyer. They don't understand why Jake wants to help a black man stay out of prison. My favorite part of the plot and the main point of the novel is that Carl Hailey would do anything to take revenge against the people who hurt his daughter, even if it means that he will have to spend the rest of his life in prison. Every parent would feel the same way. If my daughter was raped and tortured, I would want to kill those guys too. The obstacle is to encourage the jury to realize this. They would have done the same thing if they were in Carl Hailey's place. They need to look past the color of his skin and judge him on what he did. Although killing two men was wrong, his intensions were right. Carl Hailey did it for his daughter. The love that he has for his daughter is extremely touching.
A Time to Kill by John Grisham is a fantastic novel about the negative effects of racism, both the purities and impurities of the United States legal system, and the overall theme of good vs. evil. The book takes place sometime around the 1990s in Ford County, Mississippi and begins with a ten year old African American girl, Tonya Hailey, getting raped by two white racist men, Cobb and Willard. This horrible crime caused the two men to be arrested and taken into custody by the county sheriff, Ozzie Walls. Once they are in the hands of the legal system, the process of indicting and trying the two criminals. However, the legal process is interrupted when Carl Lee Hailey, the father of Tonya Hailey, hides in the courthouse and murders Cobb and Willard while they are being transported back to the county jail. In the process, Carl Lee also accidentally injures a deputy, DeWayne Looney. Carl Lee hires Jake Brigance, a young lawyer, to defend him. The book records the events leading up to and the actual trial of Carl Lee. Throughout the book, the question is raised of whether a father murdering two criminals that raped his daughter is legal or not. This book was exceptional. I would rate it five out of five stars. I enjoyed many aspects of the book, but I especially enjoyed the author’s writing style. Grisham’s writing is easy to read, yet it is packed with themes and also gripping and thrilling. Every time I put the book down, I honestly could not wait to continue reading it and find out what happens next. Also, I normally do not become emotional when reading a book; however, I actually reacted emotionally when the final verdict was delivered at the end of the trial. In addition to the author’s writing style being easy and enjoyable to read, the book’s themes were extraordinary and well delivered. Its many themes include: the battle of racists vs. non-racists, both the impurities and purities of our legal system, and above all, good vs. evil. All of these themes are excellently included in the plot of the novel. In addition to the book’s wonderful themes, I also noticed similarities to the trial in the book To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I greatly enjoyed reading Lee’s novel, so I was surprised and excited when Grisham’s novel was somewhat similar. Overall, the book was phenomenal. Although the subject matter was somewhat disturbing, the author balances the novel with intriguing characters and a gripping and suspenseful plot. I would recommend this book to anyone probably over the age of thirteen who enjoys more realistic books that address the legal process. If you enjoyed To Kill a Mockingbird or like legal books in general, you must read this book!
The book was far better than the movie. It's a gripping tale of a young lawyer defending a black Vietnam war hero who has killed two white men (who raped his daughter). The tale is a mixture of the Grisham-style legal story and of America's tragic history of slavery and black repression. Grisham tells the story perfectly. His dialogue is spot on. There is one, superb passage where the local reverend is preaching to his flock. If you can imagine a 'Blues Brothers' type of scenario with 'I have seen the light' coming from the congretation as the preacher winds them up, you'll get the picture. Carl Lee Hailey (the Vietnam war veteran) gets hold of an M-16, kills the rapists on the courthouse steps, then turns for help to attorney Jake Brigance. Some of the local folk want to give Carl Lee a second medal for his action, but premeditated murder is hard to ignore, and anyway, the town is divided. Blacks note that a white man shooting a black rapist would be acquitted. The KKK turns up the heat. The NAACP gets involved. Due to the publicity, a big local firm of lawyers get in on the act and try to outmaneuver Jake. Jake has a secret weapon though - his brilliant, but disbarred ex-partner. The characters are well crafted - not all likeable, but at least, for the most part, believable. The pace of the story nicely snowballs - adding in essential tension with the addition of the Klu Klux Klan's involvement in the proceedings. The main character, Jake Brigance - defense lawyer for Carl Lee Hailey, is hardly endearing - he's openly hateful towards his secretary, lies to his wife, submits to the temptation of alcohol when the heat comes down. However, in reality, it makes the character more real - nobody's perfect, everyone has their dark sides. Sure, he's hounding after the publicity at first, but he also comes to care about the fate of his client, and while he flirts with his law clerk (always got a chuckle out of "Row Ark") he doesn't submit to THAT temptation and stays true to his wife. Throughout the book, the odds stack against Brigance and his client, and the novel will definitely keep you turning the pages. No matter what your personal opinions on the death penalty or vigilante justice are, you won't be disappointed. As Jake's mentor, disbarred lawyer Lucien Wilbanks, says, If you win this case, justice will prevail, but if you lose it, justice will also prevail.
Don't start this one unless you have time to finish it because you won't want to put it down. Amazing!!! John Grisham never disappoints!! Highly recommend!!!! outstanding GREAT READ
This is definetly the best book Grisham ever wrote. Don't be intimidated by the fact that it's 500 pages long, they go by very quickly. The first time I read it, I breezed through it in a day or two. It's the kind of book that you CANNOT put down. The questions that it raises about the death penalty and right vs. wrong will stay with you long after the last page has been read.
This book was one of Grishman's best books EVER!This is truly the best book that I have EVER READ!!!!!!
Hard to put down, engaging
I read this book many years ago. It was the first John Grisham book that I read. This book is so gripping that you won't put the book down until you get to the end and justice is served.
I've read this novel twice and like the old cliche states, the first is the best. Grisham's first work of fiction is right on target. He has the rare ability to educate AND entertain the reader at the same time. While reading this novel the second time, I noticed that Grisham covered virtually all the steps in a state criminal case from arrest to adjudication. Within that process, he was able to create a story to thrilling that I couldn't put the book down even though I knew what was going to take place in the next chapter. Being from the South, I could related to his characters and their mannerisms. Lucien was my favorite. Being someone who is educated in the criminal justice field, I would recommend this novel to any college level intro course pertaining to criminal procedure. Coupled with its subject matter, this book is certainly to create debate on our controversial criminal justice system.
I have just started to read Grisham novels, but not only was this his best written book, it was one of the best that I have read, it was great, gripping and made you think.
Even though i knew what was gonna happen it was still very unpredictable with all the details!!
This really is a great book. I first saw the movie when I was about 11 years old and have seen it several times since then. While I really enjoyed the movie, the book provides such thought provoking details that the movie does not adequately capture. My first Grisham but definitely not my last.
I think that "A Time To Kill" is Mr. Grisham's best book so far. I've read many of his other novels, some are great, and some are so-so, but this novel ranks at the top. It is full of different issues like rape, murder, kkk, racism, etc. The plot just keeps on building and building. Just when you think that it is about to slow down something else happens. I recommend this book to all the folks. Enjoy it!
In my opinion, this is the best book written by John Grisham. The rest were good, some were great, but his first was his best!
GREAT STORY ABOUT A FATHER'S LOVE, PAIN AND ULTIMATE REVENGE. TYPICAL DEEP SOUTH ACTION. KEPT MY ATTENTION FROM BEGINNING TO THE END. FOUND MYSELF ROOTING FOR THE FATHER'S ACQUITAL. MAKES ONE ASK ONESELF, "WHAT WOULD I DO IF IT WERE MY DAUGHTER WHO WAS RAPED?" I FOUND THIS BOOK TO BE JUST A BIT OFF OF JOHN'S TYPICAL STORY LINE. NEVER THE LESS, THOROUGHLY ENJOYABLE AND REQUIRED READING FOR GRISHAM FOLLOWERS.
A really good read. I think this might be the best of the Grisham books overall. I have read it several times and I think it is fantastic.
Although,I have read most of Grisham's books from The Client on, I had never read A Time to Kill. With Sycamore Row coming out, I decided I should backtrack and read it for background before I read Sycamore Row. I found this first novel to be an exciting read, one of Grisham's best, far better than Sycamore Row which I subsequently read.
Quite simply, the best of John Grisham's books. I do wonder if he was at all influenced by Harper Lee's "To Kill a Mockingbird."
A black father administered Justice to the white Criminals for his brutally raped & assaulted little girl. He end up on trial for Murder, that could end in the Gas Chamber. Set in the South, in northern Mississippi, in the small town of Clanton
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Loved this book couldn't put it down. Can't wait for the sequel.
I am currently reading this book and love it.