During the lunch break, Heyes and Cole repaired to an elegantly furnished meeting room where they had some pretty good ham sandwiches waiting for them. Heyes' guards changed shifts at the same time. They wouldn't eat with their charge – only away from him so they could pay total attention to him every second. Heyes, who was feeling pretty hungry under the stress of the trial, began to eat. He was almost heedless by now of the chains weighting his arms and ringing harshly against the gleaming wooden table.
His lawyer left his sandwich sitting on the plate while he looked appraisingly at his client. "Mr. Heyes, you realize that this is it. You'll testify this afternoon."
"Yeah, sure," said Heyes between bites. "We've been all through it. Don't worry."
Hearing no response for a long moment, Heyes put down his sandwich and looked up at his silent young lawyer. "What, Mr. Cole? You said you wouldn't be able to give me the last instructions until you heard how the trial started. Now you've heard it. Well?"
"Mr. Heyes," started Cole uncertainly, "how can you be so casual? The other witnesses hardly matter at all. Just as I told you before, it's all going to come down to you. This is your freedom or confinement for the rest of your life!"
Heyes paused, gazing calmly at Cole. "I know that. It always is, for us, for the Kid and me. Can't you see that? We're used to it. Do you think it was any less of a knife edge when they slaughtered our families and we barely got away? Or when we rode out a few yards ahead of a posse shooting at us? Or when we opened a cell door and ran for it just before the sheriff got back? Over and over and over. Like when I killed that man to get the Kid loose and Wiseman had to come and save us. It's happened to us all the time since . . . always. We've learned to take what comes and watch each other's backs."
Cole's lips parted as this hit home. The sensation of constant risk was all too familiar to him. It wouldn't take much for a Negro lawyer to tempt the bigoted into violence and Cole had reason to know it.
Heyes had, in his short acquaintance with Cole, nearly always been serious, or grim, or even angry. Heyes gave a tiny hint of a smile and said, "Cole, I'm ready. As ready as I can be. Unless you have something more to tell me . . . ? Some fresh advice?"
Cole swallowed. "We don't know each other very well yet, Mr. Heyes. You've been incredibly straight forward and, well, honest with me. You've taken everything very seriously, as you should. Can I ask of you something, well, a little lighter? We need people to trust you and take to you. You've got to be subtle about it – not obviously playing for sympathy. But just be . . ."
"Nice? Charming?" Heyes started to laugh. Cole looked puzzled, but he nodded.
"What, you think I'd have trouble with that? And I agree, by the way. It's just what I need to do." Heyes laughed louder. "I guess you're too young to know who you're talking to. Do you think all I did with Devil's Hole was logistics and safe blowing and discipline?"
"Yes, Mr. Heyes. What else did you do?" Cole was genuinely in the dark.
Heyes chuckled and flashed Cole the brilliant grin that the young man had never seen or heard tell of. "The Kid and I worked with some of the best con men in the country! And we were as good as any of 'em! Well, that might be exaggerating a mite. Almost as good as almost any of them. My nick-name, well I don't like it much since I got shot in the head and had to fight to get a word out. But my old nick-name was the man with the silver tongue! If you want every woman in that courtroom to be lining up to get into my bed by the time I finish speaking, all I can say is, you'd better have a stick ready to beat 'em off with. Cause they'll be lined up and no mistake!"
Cole, grinning himself by now, replied, "Actually, I was thinking more about the men. Thirteen men in particular. And forget about getting into your bed. They just need to see you as a good, trustworthy guy who's not devious or deceitful or dangerous. They need to like you."
Heyes grinned again, "Well, that will be a con, 'cause I'm all those things beginning with D. Or, I was. But, fortunately, I do think I'm a pretty trustworthy guy these days. I try. Good, I'm still working on. But I can put it across, never fear. Though these chains won't make it any easier."
Cole sighed as he got up and got ready to escort Heyes back to the courtroom. "About that, Mr. Heyes, as I've told you, I can do nothing. The public has to think you're safely contained or the politicians think they'll take heat for being careless with public safety. So I can do nothing about the chains until after the trial. Then, I hope the law will take them off and leave them off forever."
"Take them off, maybe," said Heyes, no longer grinning. "But forever? That'll take more than one trial."