Mrs. Grant. Well, it would be easiest to say that I didn’t sleep at all.
Mr. Griffin. Let me just ask you this. What time do you think your brother came to your house?
Mrs. Grant. I would say 20 minutes before, and I think it would be the closest I could ever get, 20 to 4 in the afternoon, Saturday, November 23, and it could have been 5 to 4.
Mr. Griffin. Had you contacted him?
Mrs. Grant. Between the time that he left Friday night and the time he showed up Saturday afternoon, I think one time.
Mr. Griffin. When do you think he called you?
Mrs. Grant. I don’t know. It seems to me, I may be wrong, he didn’t call me early in the morning. It seems to me he called me—now, it wasn’t before noon—this I will swear, at least I can’t remember. He called me enough after 4, after 8 o’clock to make up for all the calls he didn’t. One call. I think he was in the club, and I would say after 12 o’clock, but I don’t know when.
I don’t know, I am just assuming that many times. I never know where he is at. I don’t question about where he is at. It don’t make any difference, unless he is in the neighborhood, like Friday, I might have questioned him when he said he was going to Phil’s. I said, “Where are you,” and he said, “I am in the club.”
Mr. Griffin. I am going to get on for a second here. Do you remember calling a man named John Henry Branch on Saturday, November 23?
Mrs. Grant. Me?