57 pages • 1 hour read
John GrishamA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The book opens with the voice of Cullen Post, the book’s first-person limited point of view narrator, stating: “Duke Russell is not guilty of the unspeakable crimes for which he was convicted” (1). Post, who goes by his last name, is the pro bono lawyer who is trying to help exonerate Duke, a man on death row in Alabama who is set to be executed on that day. In the book’s opening scene, Post is sitting with Russell in “the Death Room” (3) while they wait to learn if the 11th Circuit Court of Appeals will issue a stay, keeping Duke alive. Duke is already eating his last meal when Post gets the phone call informing him that a stay has been issued. Post has more time to get the evidence he needs to free his client.
Duke is accused of raping and murdering a young woman named Emily Broone 11 years ago. Post knows Duke is innocent. He also suspects who the real murderer is: Mark Carter. Post reveals a small-town prosecutor, Chad Falwright, as “the architect of Duke’s wrongful conviction” (7). Falwright was determined to lock someone up quickly for the crime and used flimsy evidence, like the testimony of known jailhouse snitch Lucky Skelton, to lock Duke up. This was easier than finding the real criminal. After the stay is issued, Post calls Falwright to gloat. He also calls Mark anonymously and tells him that Duke is still alive and calls Mark a “coward” for being ready to watch Duke die for his own crimes (10).
In the second chapter, Post provides more details about his work. Post works for an organization called Guardian Ministries, which was founded by a woman named Vicki Gourley 12 years prior. A devout Christian, Vicki was on a jury that convicted a young man to die. After the real killer was exposed, she started Guardian Ministries, which exonerates wrongfully convicted people. Post was her first employee. He started his career as a public defender, had a mental health crisis, and then became an Episcopalian priest before joining Vicki’s nonprofit. Guardian Ministries also employs a freelancer, Francois Tatum or “Frankie,” who does the dirty work the lawyers are best left out of, such as obtaining DNA from criminal suspects via illegal means. Frankie was the first man Post exonerated working for Guardian Ministries: “His freedom invigorates me and keeps me going. If not for Guardian Ministries, he would still be rotting away” (19).
After leaving Duke, Post meets Frankie, who is helping with Duke’s case. Post reveals that Duke was found guilty largely due to the testimonies of two “bogus experts” (11), a dentist who said the bitemarks on Emily’s arms came from Duke, and an employee of the state crime lab, who suggested that pubic hairs from the crime scene came from Duke. Post explains, “Bite marks and hair analysis have been discredited in most advanced jurisdictions. Both belong to that pathetic and ever-shifty field of knowledge derisively known as defense and innocence lawyers as ‘junk science’” (12). If Frankie can get a sample of Mark Carter’s DNA, they can compare it to the DNA of the pubic hairs found at the crime scene and see if they match. Before parting ways with Frankie, Post reveals that he is going to take on another case for Guardian Ministries in Seabrook, Florida.
Chapter 3 consists solely of internal monologue, given while Post drives from Opelika, Alabama, to Savannah, Georgia—where Guardian Ministries is headquartered. He reveals that he spends a lot of time driving along the “Death Belt, from North Carolina to Texas” where many of his clients are located (20). Through this internal monologue, Post provides details of his past and how he came to work for Guardian Ministries. Post was 30 and working in Memphis, Tennessee, as a public defender when he was given a case defending a Black teenager in the gang rape of a white girl and the murder of the girl’s boyfriend. Post’s client was one of five boys facing charges. The evidence made it overwhelmingly clear the boys were guilty. Post had a mental breakdown in court and left mid-way through: “Hated by my client. Hated by my victims. What the hell was I doing in that courtroom?” (26). He describes the moment in third person, as if he was having an out-of-body experience: “His Honor said something like ‘Mr. Post, where are you going?’ Mr. Post had no idea” (27).
After leaving the courtroom, Post drove to his grandparents’ home in Dyersburg, Tennessee, his hometown. He then checked into a psychiatric hospital in Nashville. He and his then-wife, Brooke, broke off their marriage. Post found solace in the church as he recovered from his breakdown. He then moved to Alexandria, Virginia, and entered the seminary while working part-time as a research assistant at a law firm to cover his living costs. He was ordained at age 35 and got a job at a church in Savannah. In this role, he met a man, Luther Hodges, who ran a prison ministry. This is how Post met Frankie, “a truly forgotten soul,” whose plight encouraged Post to combine his religious compassion with his legal skills: “Walking Frankie out of prison two years later was the greatest thrill of my life. I found my calling. Through divine intervention I had met Vicki Gourley, a woman with a mission of her own” (30).
After his drive, Post arrives in Savannah at the Guardian Ministries headquarters. He introduces his colleagues: Vicki Gourley, the organization’s founder; and Mazy Ruffin, the “director of litigation and the outfit’s brain trust” (32). The women show maternal instincts towards Post, worrying about his unhealthy lifestyle and lack of love life. Post spends most of his time working on the road, but he has a small room above the office where he sleeps. He describes the “Wall of Fame” in the office, which consists of photos of the eight men Guardian Ministries has exonerated: “Their smiling faces are the heart and soul of our operation. They inspire us to keep plugging along, fighting the system, fighting for freedom and justice” (33). Post, Mazy, and Vicki discuss next steps in Duke’s case. There are budget issues: “A successful exoneration can take many years and consume at least $200,000 in cash” (36). Post also tells the women that he plans to take the Seabrook case.
Post introduces the Seabrook case, the book’s primary plotline. Seabrook “is in the rural backwaters of north Florida” and has a population of just 11,000. Keith Russo, a 37-year-old attorney, was shot in his office, twice in the head with a 12-gauge shotgun. He lived in Seabrook with his wife, Diana Russo: “She collected $2 million in life insurance and inherited Keith’s interests in their joint assets” (40). Diana suggested Quincy Miller, a disgruntled ex-client of Keith’s, as the possible killer. Keith represented Quincy in his divorce; it didn’t go well, and Quincy got stuck paying more alimony than he could afford.
There was little evidence in Quincy’s case. A murder weapon was never found, and Quincy had never owned a registered shotgun. However, Quincy’s ex-wife, June Walker, testified that “she believed he had one” (41). Police then got a warrant for Quincy’s car and found a flashlight with supposed specks of blood on it in the trunk. The sham case against Quincy was further bolstered by the testimony of “drug addict” Carrie Holland, who said she saw a Black man running away from Keith’s office. Quincy was charged and put in jail awaiting trial. There, he was connected with a “jailhouse snitch named Zeke Huffey who testified that Quincy had boasted of the killing and was quite proud of himself” (43). Meanwhile, the flashlight, the main piece of hard evidence in the case, was lost in a suspicious fire.
During the trial, Quincy was represented by Tyler Townsend (43). In Post’s view, Tyler defended Quincy excellently. He picked apart the weaknesses in the case, challenging experts and raising doubts about the convenient “loss” of the flashlight in a fire. Tyler even found an alibi for Quincy, a woman named Valerie Cooper who was with Quincy at the time of the murder. However, Valerie had a past drug conviction, which the prosecution used to discredit her in court.
The jury convicted Quincy quickly, but it took longer to come to an agreement on his punishment: “After two days of intense and heated debate, the lone Black held out for life with no parle. The eleven whites were disappointed that they could not return a death verdict” (45). This all happened 22 years ago; Quincy has maintained his innocence the entire time. Tyler left the law after the case and now lives in Fort Lauderdale; he’s married and has kids and works with his father-in-law developing shopping malls. Diana Russo lives on Martinique and never remarried. Post notes that, except for him and the team at Guardian Ministries, Quincy is forgotten: “This is not a cold case. The State of Florida got a conviction. The truth is irrelevant” (46).
Post goes to visit Quincy at Garvin Correctional Institute in Florida. He reveals that Quincy has three children and an ex-wife, June, who testified against him at his trial. His brother, Marvis, remains loyal to Quincy and visits him monthly. Quincy is emotional as he thanks Post for taking his case: “For at least the last fifteen years Quincy has not had a lawyer or any type of legal representative, not a soul out there in the free world working to prove his innocence. I know from my vast experience that this is a burden that is almost unbearable. A corrupt system locked him away, and there’s no one fighting the system. These burdens are heavy enough as an innocent man, but with no voice he feels truly helpless” (48).
Discussing Quincy’s case with him, Post lays out part of his plan for helping to exonerate Quincy. Post hopes to dismantle the testimonies of Zeke Huffey, the jailhouse snitch, and Quincy’s ex-wife, June Walker. Both testified against Quincy, but Post suspects their testimonies were false. Zeke would have happily lied to avoid further jail time for his own crimes while June was in a bitter divorce with Quincy and may have wanted revenge. He hopes to get them to sign affidavits telling the truth. These can then be submitted as new evidence to reopen Quincy’s case—which will hopefully exonerate him.
Post asks Quincy for clarity on some other points related to the case. For example, Diana Russo testified that Quincy had come by Keith Russo’s office and threatened him. Quincy says this is false. Quincy tells Post, “Diana lied, like everybody else” (54). Quincy asks if Post has spoken to Quincy’s former lawyer, Tyler Townsend, calling him “a good dude” (55). He then asks Post if the prison phones they’re speaking on are safe, implying he wants to tell Post something important and private. Post tells him that letters are safer, and Quincy uses sign language to tell Post that he will write him.
Frankie finds June Walker, Quincy’s ex-wife. She’s married to a man named Otis Walker, and they live in Florida. Frankie approaches Otis and tells him he works for a lawyer who is trying to exonerate Quincy. June could help free the innocent man if she agrees to talk to them. Her key role in the trial regarded the flashlight, the one piece of solid evidence in the case, which subsequently went missing in a suspicious fire. Based on photos of the flashlight before it went missing, June told the jury that Quincy had a flashlight very similar to it. Quincy claims this is false. June also told the jury that Quincy was in Seabrook, where Keith Russo was shot, on the night of the killing. In fact, Quincy was visiting his girlfriend an hour away. Otis is reluctant to get involved. Frankie gives Otis his business card and encourages him to talk to June.
Post goes to visit Zeke Huffey, the jailhouse snitch who helped put Quincy away. Zeke is in a for-profit prison:
which means the guards earn even less and there are fewer of them, the terrible food is even worse, the commissary gouges the men on everything from peanut butter to toilet paper, and the medical care is nonexistent. I suppose that in America everything, including education and corrections, is fair game for profiteers (63).
Zeke implies that his testimony claiming that Quincy boasted about killing Keith was false. Post asks him to sign an affidavit saying he lied at trial, promising Zeke a better deal on his own criminal charges/penalties in exchange. Zeke asks Post to send him some money and says he’ll think about it.
Post and Frankie track down Carrie Holland, the “drug addict” who testified that she saw a Black man running away from Keith’s office on the night he was killed. Carrie left Seabrook shortly after the trial. She now goes by Carrie Pruitt and lives in Tennessee with a man named Buck. Post and Frankie wait for Buck to leave the house, and then Post approaches her. He tells her she could help get an innocent man out of prison by signing an affidavit telling the truth about that night. Carrie is reluctant. Post leaves his business card with her just in case.
Post gets the letter that Quincy had promised to send from jail. In it, Quincy reveals his old lawyer Tyler Townsend’s theory as to the real murderer. Keith and Diana Russo were running with the drug cartels, serving as lawyers for the drug dealers and making a lot of money. Tyler suspected Keith double-crossed the cartel in some way and that’s why he got shot. The Sheriff of Seabrook at the time, Bradley Pfitzner, was supposedly also involved with some of the cartels—and was pivotal in framing Quincy. Quincy is convinced that Sheriff Pfitzner was the one who placed the bloody flashlight in the trunk of Quincy’s car. Quincy also tells Post that Tyler got spooked after the trial when threats were made against him, and that’s why he left town. Quincy also reveals that a deputy sheriff, Kenny Taft, was killed in Seabrook shortly after the trial. Tyler thought Kenny’s death was related to the Russo murder.
Post reveals his plans to debunk one of the “expert” witnesses who testified at Quincy’s trial, Paul Norwood, a former homicide detective turned “bloodstain expert.” Post notes Norwood was a college dropout without a criminology degree. He became an “expert” by attending some seminars and reading papers. Post explains this was quite common:
In the 1980s and 1990s, expert testimony proliferated in the criminal courts as all manner of self-anointed authorities roamed the country impressing juries with their freewheeling opinions […] Thousands of criminal defendants were convicted and put away by shaky theories about bloodstains, blood spatter, arson, bite marks, fabrics, glass breakage, scalp and pubic hair, boot prints, ballistics, and even fingerprints (78).
Post notes that DNA testing has made this kind of “junk science” harder to get away with and that in many DNA exonerations, “bad forensics” was the cornerstone of the conviction: “In one year, 2005, three of Norwood’s convictions were invalidated when DNA testing exposed his faulty methods and testimony” (79). Norwood refuses to speak to Post. So, instead, Post plans to get an expert testimony from Dr. Kyle Benderschmidt of Virginia Commonwealth University, which has a leading forensic science department, to debunk Norwood’s junk science. The testimony will cost Guardian Ministries $30,000.
The opening chapters of this crime thriller address the book’s most prominent theme: the corrupt nature of the American criminal justice system. This is apparent from the very first line: “Duke Russell is not guilty of the unspeakable crimes for which he was convicted” (1). The fact that an innocent man is locked away for a crime he didn’t commit drives home the deeply flawed nature of the system. This is a point Post’s character drives home again and again, both through the nature of his work—exonerating the innocent—and his words. He makes it clear that, in the U.S. system, it’s not about what’s true, just, or right; it’s simply about making a case. The system is broken.
Quincy’s case is the ultimate example of this. Quincy has been locked away for 22 years for a murder he didn’t commit and was clearly framed for. However, Post and the team at Guardian Ministries face an uphill battle to exonerate Quincy. The State of Florida has no interest in freeing Quincy: “This is not a cold case. The State of Florida got a conviction. The truth is irrelevant” (46).
The narrative emphasizes how easy it is to put away an innocent man and how hard it is to free an innocent man by explicating the intricacies of Quincy’s case. The reader learns how false testimonies, like Zeke Huffey’s, can be bought. Then, there is the issue of the “junk science” (12) Post derides, including faux expert testimonies like those of Paul Norwood, emphasizing: “In one year, 2005, three of Norwood’s convictions were invalidated when DNA testing exposed his faulty methods and testimony” (79).
To demonstrate how difficult it is to exonerate a wrongfully convicted man, the narrative addresses every detail of the case against Quincy, from the flashlight that was planted in his car by Sheriff Bradley Pfitzner to the false testimony regarding the flashlight from Quincy’s ex-wife June Walker and the false testimony from Carrie Holland/Pruitt. The narrative also exposes the costs associated with such an effort: “A successful exoneration can take many years and consume at least $200,000 in cash” (36). This raises yet another central theme in the book: the corrupting nature of capitalism.
This is seen in experts like Paul Norwood, who makes money off bogus claims in the courtroom. It’s even seen in the prison system itself, especially those that are for-profit. For-profit prisons are a contentious topic in debates about the American criminal justice system. The fact that the author alludes to them here may speak to author John Grisham’s own experience in the legal system. Grisham is a former lawyer turned writer who is well-known for his legal and crime thrillers. He is also an active supporter of The Innocence Project, a real-world nonprofit initiative that essentially has the same goal as the book’s fictional Guardian Ministries: to get falsely convicted persons exonerated. Given Grisham’s personal support of this charitable work, it’s safe to assume he shares some of the critical viewpoints of the criminal justice system expressed by his hero in The Guardians, Cullen Post.
Throughout the first chapters, the narrative, through Post’s voice, expresses disgust at the current state of the American justice system and its corruption. This is seen most clearly in Post’s description of Duke’s presumed execution day. He sarcastically remarks, “For the festivities, the rules allow him a small color television so he can watch whatever he wants” (3). Post also views the players in the system with disgust, such as Chad Falwright, the small-town prosecutor who insists on Duke’s guilt. According to Post, for such a prosecutor “there is no greater sense of accomplishment than to witness an execution for which he is responsible” (7). When Duke gets a stay on his execution, Post snidely notes that Falwright “will be denied the thrill” (7).
In a sense, Duke’s case is a red herring. The reader is initially led to believe this will be the main plot of the book. In fact, Quincy’s case will drive the narrative. Post alludes to the Seabrook case briefly in Chapter 2 but it’s not until Chapter 5 that the reader learns the details of Quincy’s case. Ultimately, Duke’s case will show how a “standard” Guardians case should go—Duke will eventually be exonerated. Quincy’s case will prove more complicated due to the involvement of powerful cartels, which will add a greater element of danger and complexity to the case—even the FBI will get involved.
The addition of the cartels in Quincy’s case is what will elevate the narrative from an examination of the criminal justice system’s faults to a “thriller.” Post’s attempts to exonerate Quincy will prove to be a life-or-death situation, adding drama and tension to the narrative. This tension is foreshadowed in the book’s early chapters—for example, when Quincy refuses to talk to Post over the prison phones and instead sends him a letter. Post finds it telling that Quincy is afraid, even after all these years, to talk about the case. Quincy knows he was framed for Keith’s murder; presumably, whoever framed him won’t want him freed.
The topic of racism is also raised in the book’s first chapters, and the narrative will go on to explicate the dangerous power racism holds in American society. Post does not hesitate to call out racial bias. Of Quincy’s case, he says “Quincy is Black. Seabrook is 80 percent white, 10 percent Black, 10 percent Hispanic” (41). He further asserts the only reason Quincy was spared the death penalty was due to the one Black juror on his jury: “After two days of intense and heated debate, the lone Black held out for life with no parole. The eleven whites were disappointed that they could not return a death verdict” (45).
Post touches on racial divides again and again. He immediately notes Duke is white, for example, and will consistently note characters’ races, especially those accused of crimes, throughout. When discussing the case in Memphis that led to his mental breakdown, he notes his client asked him, “Can I have a Black lawyer?” (27). Post is not the only character to note the significance of racial divides. Quincy, speaking of his white cell mate, says, “Nothing against white folks, Post, but there are a lot of differences, you know? I listen to Motown, he likes that country crap” (53).
While racism itself is dangerous, it becomes especially dangerous when it enters the criminal justice system. Race appears to have played a role in Quincy’s trial. Speaking generally, Post says, “In white America, prisons are good places where bad men pay for their crimes. In Black America, they are too often used as warehouses to keep minorities off the streets” (59). The issue seems especially prevalent in the rural Southern communities were Guardian Ministries does much of its work (the “death belt” as Post coins it).
Despite seeing the problematic nature of race distinctions, Post operates within the racially biased system. Guardian Ministries even has brochures created to target different races:
If our target is a white guy, I use the one with my smiling face front and center. With the [priest’s] collar. If we need to approach a white woman, we’ll use Vicki’s. Blacks get the one with Mazy arm-in-arm with a Black exoneree. We like to say that skin color doesn’t matter, but that’s not always true. We often use it to open doors (62).
Finally, these chapters introduce an important motif that will be seen throughout the book: religion, as symbolized by Post’s collar. The author has chosen to make Post both a trained lawyer and an Episcopalian priest. Post calls out the ludicrousness of how he’s treated just for wearing the collar versus how he’s treated as a lawyer: When Quincy asks why he’s wearing his collar, Post replies, “I’m an Episcopal priest, and this collar has a way of getting more respect, at times” (49). The collar demands respect for what it represents—religious compassion and sympathy. In a corrupt system, the collar stands out as a shining beacon of purity.
By John Grisham
Books on Justice & Injustice
View Collection
Challenging Authority
View Collection
Contemporary Books on Social Justice
View Collection
Equality
View Collection
Forgiveness
View Collection
Horror, Thrillers, & Suspense
View Collection
Mystery & Crime
View Collection
Politics & Government
View Collection
Popular Study Guides
View Collection
Power
View Collection
True Crime & Legal
View Collection
Truth & Lies
View Collection