Porculey

Porculey is the lawyer who represents Billy after his arrest, turning an initially worrying impression into effective, carefully targeted advocacy. To Burke Devore, he first sounds drunk and looks like a wreck in a maroon suit; in court, however, he proves capable of securing Billy’s release and persuading the judge to seal the indictment. His importance lies in the contrast between the authority’s humiliating, opaque procedures and the small but consequential protection he manages to win for a frightened young client.

Identity and First Impression

Burke reaches Porculey by telephone while trying to arrange legal help for Billy. Porculey asks him to bring the deed, mortgage, or any other house papers he can find, even though it is Sunday, and says they will meet at the courthouse. He identifies himself as the lawyer in a maroon suit. His voice slurs enough that Burke wonders whether he is drunk, and the description initially gives the family little reason to expect a reassuring advocate.

The first meeting revises that impression without making Porculey conventionally impressive. Burke estimates that he is at least seventy and notices a drooping eyelid and sagging cheek, which he suspects may be the effects of one or more strokes. The maroon suit, with its pinstripes, looks horrible to Burke; yet he recognizes it as the remnant of a once-good lawyer. Porculey is diminished in appearance, not useless in practice: what remains of his skill is enough for the immediate task of getting Billy out of custody and back to his parents.

Porculey’s working environment is unusual. Burke supposes that he may live for Sundays, when lawyers are difficult to find. The observation is Burke’s conjecture, but it captures the hurried, makeshift circumstances of the family’s search for representation. Porculey has already spoken to the judge, and Burke understands from their conversation that bail will be set. He also insists on bringing a whole folder marked HOUSE, together with Billy’s birth certificate and his and Marjorie Devore’s passports, because he does not want to arrive one piece of paper short.

Bail and Billy’s Release

At the first courthouse appearance, Porculey guides Burke and Marjorie to a pew near the front while they wait. He goes through a side door with their papers, then returns to the courtroom, nods reassuringly, and takes his place at the lawyer’s table. Billy is brought in unshaven, wrinkled, and exhausted. When he spots his parents, Burke smiles at him; Billy answers with a quick, frightened smile. Porculey stands with him before the judge as the hearing proceeds through formal language and the passing of papers.

Burke interprets the proceeding through a church metaphor: the courtroom has its ritual, its officials, and its rules, even when their literal meaning is difficult for an outsider to follow. Porculey appears at ease within this institutional world. He seems to know many of the court employees, including the judge. Burke thinks they like seeing him but do not take him seriously, and that Porculey knows this and does not care. The judgment is Burke’s, but the scene presents a lawyer who can keep playing the court’s game without needing to command respect in an imposing manner.

After the hearing, Porculey stays with the parents, tells them which corridor to take, and explains that they must show a paper to collect Billy. A uniformed man eventually returns Billy to them. The release is a practical, immediate success: Porculey has helped bring the boy back to his family, though the possibility of further police scrutiny and court proceedings remains.

Separating Billy’s Case

In the two weeks after the arrest, Porculey’s work shifts from release to limiting the lasting consequences of the burglary. Billy’s partner, Jim Bucklin, made statements after his arrest that could be taken as admissions to earlier burglaries. After Bucklin met with his own lawyer, he began claiming that this had been his first burglary, as Billy was also claiming. The accounts became harder to sustain when police searched the Bucklin home and found computer software. They found no illicit software in the Devore home, and Porculey used that difference to argue that the cases should not remain joined.

Porculey’s position, as Burke reports it, cast Bucklin as a long-term criminal and Billy as an innocent youngster drawn into crime by his partner. That argument served a distinct procedural objective: to prevent the evidence against Bucklin from defining Billy’s case. The assistant district attorney objected fiercely to separating them, and Bucklin’s lawyer also wanted the cases kept together. Porculey nevertheless prevailed. The judge ordered the cases separated, with Billy’s matter proceeding in chambers. The narrator did not witness that discussion, so its course is known through the result and Porculey’s later explanation.

Once the cases were separated, imprisonment was no longer the main question. Porculey explained over coffee at a diner that the central issue was whether Billy would carry a felony conviction. He emphasized the facts that made Billy a candidate for leniency: he had never been in trouble before, was a good student with a bright future, and came from poverty. The family learned that a judge could seal an indictment after a guilty plea when the circumstances justified a second chance. During the period set by the judge, a new arrest would reopen the sealed matter and expose the defendant to prosecution for both offenses; if the defendant remained free of further trouble until the term expired, the indictment could be quashed without leaving a police record.

Outcome and Narrative Significance

Porculey advised Burke and Marjorie to avoid speaking with the Bucklins, whose parents wanted the boys’ cases joined again. The Devore family stayed away from them and waited in the corridor while the legal arguments continued. Later, Porculey told them that the judge had agreed to separate the cases despite the objections. He also made clear that the judge’s decision on Billy’s indictment remained the outcome they were hoping for, not something they could assume in advance.

At the later court appearance, scheduled for ten, Porculey arrived in a neutral gray suit rather than the maroon one. His tie was maroon, patterned with little white cows jumping over little white moons. He shook hands with Burke and Marjorie, said he thought matters would work out, and took Billy away to speak with the judge. The contrast is characteristic of his role: his appearance remains faintly comic to Burke, while his actions carry serious consequences for the family.

The judge sealed the indictment. Billy’s legal troubles were therefore over provided he stayed honest and committed no further crime during the relevant term. Burke and Marjorie were relieved, and Burke recognized that they might easily have drawn a much worse attorney. He and Marjorie shook Porculey’s hand and tried to express their gratitude. Porculey is not presented as a grand or charismatic defender; his effectiveness consists in understanding which procedural distinction matters, making the case for it, and guiding the family through a system they experience as a bewildering ritual. For Billy, that work turns a potentially permanent felony record into a conditional second chance.