Marshall Page #4

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defendant receive a fair trial.

So are we all,

Attorney Friedman.

So are we all.

But he's not a member

of our bar, is he?

No, he's not.

However, Your Honor, Mr. Marshall

is a respected attorney.

He argued in the United

States Supreme Court.

That has no bearing

on this case.

Your Honor, may I be heard?

No, you may not.

The court has heard enough

and will rule.

The court sees

no legal requirement

to admit out-of-state counsel

in this case.

But, Your Honor...

However,

the court not only wishes to

be fair to all of the parties,

but to maintain the appearance

of fairness as well.

Therefore, the court

will allow Mr. Marshall

to enter his appearance

for the defense...

Respectfully...

His written appearance,

Mr. Willis.

Mr. Marshall

may sit at counsel table.

However, he may not speak.

Your Honor,

I must speak for the client.

He may not speak, argue,

or examine witnesses.

If he violates this ruling, he

will be held in contempt of court.

And you as well,

Mr. Friedman.

You will conduct this case.

Me?

Yes, you.

The trial will begin

a month from today

at 10:
00 a.m.

Court adjourned.

All rise.

What the...

What the hell just happened?

What just happened here? Shut

up and be quiet. Let me think.

I can't do this. You know that.

Shut up.

Excuse me?

That son of a b*tch.

I've tried cases before judges who were

Grand Dragons of the Ku Klux Klan,

who forced me to enter

through the back door,

but this horseshit is a first.

I cannot get involved

in a case like this.

Are you listening to me?

It would destroy my practice.

This is not my problem.

The hell it isn't.

No, you heard the judge.

Until we can find somebody

better, it's you and me.

It's our problem now.

Mr. Marshall...

According to

Eleanor Strubing's account,

Spell rapes her at home, ties and

gags her, then drives up here.

He stops approximately 60 feet

onto the bridge, like so...

Joseph! Please!

Takes her out of the car...

No! No!

Then pushes her

over the guardrail,

into the reservoir,

right about here.

He throws rocks at her,

then drives away.

Somehow she gets to shore.

Dripping wet.

Then climbs up to the road.

Awfully scary down there though.

Go take a look

where she climbed out.

Me? These are

my best shoes.

Please try to

make yourself useful.

Stop. Stop!

Stop.

This is where

the truck driver found her.

What do you want with those?

It's an old Negro superstition.

Always take a little piece

of the earth with you.

Really?

Mr. Friedman, your picture's on

the front page with Mr. Marshall.

Not a bad picture.

Of me, anyway.

- Also, your wife called.

- Sam. Perfect.

Where you been? -Out getting the

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