Theodore Boone - The Accomplice Page 13

  “It’s not going to be easy.”

  “Do you really believe that Woody and Tony had no idea what Garth was up to?”

  “I’m not so sure about that. I’ve always had my doubts about their stories.”

  “Now you’re talking, Rodney. I have doubts, too. I would bet good money that those boys ran out of beer and talked about stealing some more. And I’ll bet that the judge will think so, too.”

  “Okay, I’ll talk to my clients. I’m sure this will take several conversations.”

  “Well, let’s hurry along. I’d like to cut a deal with Hogan before the grand jury gets the case.”

  Nance smiled properly and stood. Conversation over. He walked Rodney to the door, paused, and rubbed his chin. “Say, Rodney, how long do you plan to work for Monk?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, a couple of years maybe.”

  “Then what?”

  “I’d like to go into private practice, join a nice law firm, and specialize in criminal defense. I love the courtroom and can see a career there.”

  “That’s what I did and I have no regrets. One day soon, after this case is over, let’s have a conversation about your future. I’m always looking for young talent. We have seven lawyers now and need at least two more.”

  “I would really enjoy that conversation, Mr. Nance.”

  “It’s Clifford.”

  On a cold, rainy afternoon, Theo was at his desk in his little office in the rear of Boone & Boone, and instead of doing his boring homework he was kicked back in his old hand-me-down swivel office chair watching the rain splatter against his window. Judge snored under his desk, inches from Theo’s sneakers. At times the rain fell hard and the wind whistled against the roof. Then it slacked off and almost quit. He had been studying the rain and the wind for some time because his Geometry was particularly boring, they were suffering through polygons; and his Chemistry was quite dull, they were memorizing compounds; and, well, nothing at the moment offered any excitement. So he was doing what he often did at the age of thirteen—thinking about life and wondering what it would be like in a few short years when he was grown and driving and dealing with high school issues. He even had a thought or two about college, but couldn’t imagine the day when he was forced to leave home and go out into the world without his parents and his dog. He had already done a bit of research online and had yet to find a college that allowed its freshmen to bring their dogs to school.

  But that was a few years away. He had more pressing issues at hand. A book report for English. A speech for Government. The Major was watching him closely and monitoring his merit badge progress. The guy had practically set a deadline for Theo to become an Eagle Scout. April Finnemore’s father had left home again, for the umpteenth time, and her mother was still crazy. Theo was afraid she, April, might just run away and vanish forever.

  The hours passed and the sky grew darker and Theo kept daydreaming. A soft knock on the rear door startled him and brought him back to life. Woody barreled in, shaking off rainwater. He was soaked.

  “Come in,” Theo said.

  “I’m in, Theo, and I’m freezing. Give me your coat.”

  Theo pulled his jacket off a wall hook and tossed it to Woody. “What in the world are you doing out on the streets in a rainstorm?”

  “Well, I’m not here just because I miss you, I can promise you that,” Woody said as he put on the coat. Judge was awake and sniffing around Woody’s ankles. Woody glanced at the open door and asked, “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” Theo got up, closed the door, and retook his seat. “This must be important.”

  “It is. Tony and I just spent an hour with Rodney Wall. The guy’s a creep. He fed us this line about buying into Garth’s story of the gun. Wall wants Tony and me to help cover Garth’s butt by saying the gun belonged to me, that Tony knew about it, that we offered it to Garth so that he could get us some more beer, which we all wanted.”

  “Your lawyer wants you to lie?”

  “Yes. He says that we need to go along with the story because Clifford Nance is tight with the prosecutor, what’s his name—”

  “Jack Hogan.”

  “Right, Hogan, and that if we all tell the same story and we all take some of the blame then we’ll all get off light, including, of course, Garth.”

  “That’s terrible, Woody. You had never seen the gun before.”

  “Tell me about it. The bad part is that Wall, our very own lawyer and the one we’re stuck with because we can’t afford another one, wants us to take the deal. He kept calling it a ‘good deal.’ He said Mr. Nance had pretty much worked out everything with Jack Hogan. We’ll all get light sentences and Garth will avoid a felony conviction, which will stay on his record forever and ruin his life in every way possible. You should’ve been there, Theo. It was pathetic watching our lawyer try to convince us to take a deal and lie about everything.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said no. Tony said no. Wall got ticked off at us for saying no, said we’ll have to go to trial and that Judge Pendergrast will probably not believe us because we’re brothers and brothers tend to stick together. Wall said that. He also said that it was unlikely the judge would believe that we, Tony and me, knew nothing about what Garth was up to. The bottom line, Theo, is that our lawyer doesn’t believe us and he wants to cut a deal to impress Mr. Bigshot Clifford Nance.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “I know, I know. The guy is more concerned with taking care of Garth Tucker than us. We have to get another lawyer, Theo. Can you represent us? I know you’re only thirteen but you’d do a better job than Wall.”

  “Sorry. Come back in about twelve years.”

  “What about your mother?”

  “No. I had to twist her arm to do the bail hearing, and she’s convinced she did a lousy job there. She doesn’t like criminal law and wants to stay away from it.”

  “Your dad?”

  Theo snorted. “You’d probably get the death penalty. My dad hasn’t seen a courtroom in decades.”

  “What about Ike?”

  “No license, same as me. I have an idea. Let’s talk to the Major, tell him everything. He’s worked with Wall before and I’ll bet he’s not afraid to get in the guy’s face.”

  Woody had stopped shivering, though water still dripped from his hair and ran down his cheeks. “I like it,” he said softly. “You gotta do something, Theo.”

  “Did Wall say what would happen if you and Tony got convicted?”

  “Yeah. That’s the sick part. He said we would be sent to a juvenile prison for a long time. How scary is that, Theo? Our own lawyer trying to scare us with prison if we don’t do what he says.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Tony got mad, got real mad, and said if he was any good at being a lawyer then we wouldn’t get convicted because we are innocent. They exchanged words, things got pretty ugly, and he told us to leave. We’re at war with our own lawyer.”

  “Let’s go find the Major.”

  They found him at home. On the phone he invited them over, and they rode their bikes through the rain. Luckily, he didn’t live too far away. His home was a quaint bungalow in the center of town, an older house he and his wife had beautifully renovated when they retired to Strattenburg. The boys had been there before several times for scouting sessions and merit badge workshops.

  Mrs. Ludwig gave them towels and served them hot cocoa, which had never tasted better. After she disappeared, Woody retold the story of his and Tony’s disastrous meeting with their lawyer. As always, the Major listened carefully without comment until Woody finished.

  “This is disturbing,” he said.

  Theo, ever ready to join the conversation, asked, “If Woody tells this new story, isn’t that perjury?”

  The Major replied, “Of course it is. A false statement made under oath in court is perjury, which is another crime. It will only make matters worse, Woody. There’s no way you can take the stand and tell th
is story.”

  “Oh, I’m not going to,” Woody said.

  “What about Tony?” the Major asked.

  “We’re sticking together and we’re sticking to the truth. It’s that simple. We don’t care what happens to Garth. He’s got his own lawyer and his family has some money.”

  The Major rubbed his chin, deep in thought. He was frowning and not pleased with what he was hearing. Theo interrupted things with, “Shouldn’t you report this to the judge, Major, tell him that this lawyer is trying to get his clients to lie in court?”

  “Maybe, but not right now. Let’s see how things play out. Your trial is a week from Wednesday so we have some time. Perhaps I’ll meet with Rodney Wall and explain things to him, let him know that you and Tony are not going along with this new story.”

  Woody said, “Okay, but here’s what’s bugging me. Wall says that our story, the true story, is not that believable. Three teenagers in a car drinking beer and needing some more. The plan to rob a place for more beer and a little cash to boot. And two of the three know nothing of the plan? I kind of see his point. Maybe that is too hard to believe. Then, the two guys who claim to be innocent are also brothers, who, of course, can be expected to say anything to cover for each other. Maybe our case is not as strong as we think.”

  “I agree,” said Theo, though no one asked his opinion. “So the big question is: What if you go to trial and the judge finds you guilty?”

  “Exactly,” Woody said. “What if we’re found guilty and sent away for a year or two? That would be the end of the world. Just go ahead and shoot me.”

  The Major said, “Let’s not overreact here. I’ll meet with Mr. Wall as soon as possible and let’s see how that goes.”

  “I have a question,” Theo said. “If Woody and Tony decide to go along with the plan here and take some of the blame, what crime will they plead guilty to? I don’t understand.”

  The Major smiled and said, “Well, fortunately or unfortunately, there is no shortage of crimes on the books. I can see a deal where they would plead guilty to a misdemeanor like malicious mischief or disorderly conduct, something like that. A lesser offense that would not lead to jail time and be removed from their records after they turn eighteen.”

  Theo looked at Woody and asked, “Could you do that, Woody? Could you plead guilty if it meant no jail time for all three of you?”

  Woody gritted his teeth and said, “No way. I’m not guilty.”

  Major Ludwig smiled and nodded his approval.

  It was a slow night at Santo’s and Tony had only four pizzas to deliver. He was alone. Daisy discouraged Woody from any more pizza runs, and Tony did not offer. Woody was at home, supposedly doing his homework. Daisy was pulling a late shift at the restaurant. Their stepfather had not been home in weeks, as if he was avoiding all the drama.

  The first delivery was to a student duplex near Stratten College, a street Tony knew well. He carried a pepperoni supreme to the front door, knocked and waited. It was the typical overcrowded student place with bikes chained to the front railings and empty beer cans scattered through the neglected flower beds. The door opened and a pretty coed asked him to step inside. He did so, handed her the pizza, and waited as she fetched the money. A college boy walked through the den and said hello. Tony waited, part of the routine of delivering pizza.

  From the back hallway, Garth Tucker appeared and said, “Hey, Tony, what’s up?”

  “Not much. What are you doing here?” Tony was surprised to see him but not startled. Seniors at Strattenburg High were known to visit friends at the college. Still, bumping into him on a pizza run on a random weeknight was too much of a coincidence.

  “Friends of mine. I hang out here sometimes.” The two saw each other at school occasionally but rarely spoke. Since their arrests, they had tried to avoid each other. Tony especially wanted nothing to do with Garth. The girl returned to the den and handed Tony a twenty. He pulled change out of his pocket and gave it to her.

  Garth said, “Say, Tony, you got a minute? I need to discuss something with you.”

  “What’s there to discuss? And I have three more pizzas to deliver.”

  “There’s a small patio out back. Just the two of us. Won’t take but a minute.”

  Tony looked around and didn’t like the setting. He heard other male voices in the rear of the apartment. The girl was gone, as was the pizza. “What’s on your mind?”

  “It’s private, Tony. Let’s step outside.”

  Tony could handle Garth in a fistfight, but he wasn’t sure how many others might decide to join in. Cautiously, he followed Garth into the kitchen, where he saw no one, and through the rear door onto a brick patio. A dim yellow bulb provided the only light. Tony looked around to make sure it wasn’t an ambush. Garth seemed nervous but sincere.

  He said, “Look, first things first. I did a dumb thing and got us all busted. My bad. I was drunk and pulled a boneheaded move. But I’m not drinking now. I’ve quit and I’m behaving myself. I’m still in trouble, though, and I need some help. My lawyer says you guys don’t want to play along with our line of defense. I wish you would. It would help me tremendously.”

  “We’re not lying in court, Garth, if that’s what you’re asking. You know perfectly well what happened and you’re just trying to change the facts. Sorry.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m not here to argue, Tony, that’s not going to help us. There’s a way out of this mess if we can all stick together.”

  “You mean there’s a way out for you. Pin the blame on us, or especially on Woody because he’s thirteen, and you get to walk. We’re not stupid, Garth. You may have a bigshot lawyer, but it’s obvious what’s going on. The answer is no. We are not walking into a courtroom and lying. That will only make matters worse.”

  Garth kept his cool and showed no signs of anger. No one else appeared in the kitchen. As the minutes passed, the situation looked less and less like an ambush. “Do you realize what a felony conviction does to me, Tony? It means I’ll go to jail, maybe for years, and my life is ruined. No college, no career, no nothing. Why can’t you guys help me here?”

  “Because we’re innocent and you’re not. That simple.”

  “Simple. Here’s what’s simple.” Garth reached into an inside pocket of his jacket, and for a second Tony’s heart skipped a beat. Then he whipped out an envelope and said, “This is five thousand dollars cash, Tony. All yours. Just go with our story and keep the money. Think of how much your family could use this money.”

  Tony was stunned and took a step back. Garth pressed ahead. “Come on, Tony. It’s cash, cannot be traced, and it’s all yours. Yours and Woody’s. You can do with it whatever you want. Just agree to stick to our little story and help me out. The money is yours.”

  Tony had never known anyone with $5,000 cash in their pockets, especially a high school student. He stared at the envelope, shook his head in disbelief, and said, “You gotta be kidding.”

  “Do you really think I’m kidding here, Tony. My future is on the line and I need your help. You need the money, I need a favor.”

  Tony took another step back and said, “Okay, okay, let me think about this. If Woody and I play along, then we admit to some of the guilt. That means we could go back to jail, right?”

  “You’re headed back to jail anyway because you busted probation with the drinking, at least according to my lawyer.”

  “Maybe, but that’s no big deal, according to my lawyer.” Tony was certain that Garth’s lawyer was far more experienced than Rodney Wall, but Wall was all he had.

  Garth smiled and tried to seem relaxed. Just a couple of old pals. “Look, Tony, let’s not argue, okay? You’re right, I’m wrong. But there’s a way out for everybody here. Maybe you get a weekend in jail, maybe the same for Woody, but nothing serious. And you’ve got a pocket full of cash to ease the pain.”

  “Bribing a witness sounds like a pretty serious crime to me.”

  Garth returned the envelope to his pocket and
said, “I know nothing about a bribe. Just think about it, Tony. We’ve got a few days, but not many.”

  “I need to deliver some pizzas.”

  The Stratten County Grand Jury met twice a month in the main courtroom to review serious criminal charges. There were eighteen members, all registered voters of the county and all serving six month terms. The grand jury was controlled by Jack Hogan, who presented the cases. Like most grand juries, it almost always did whatever the chief prosecutor wanted. The majority of the cases were slam dunks. The defendants were guilty, and there were plenty of witnesses to prove it.

  Unfortunately, each session was busy, each docket was long—there was no shortage of crime in Stratten County. Mr. Hogan presented each case, gave a summary of the facts, occasionally presented a witness or two, and then asked the grand jury to vote to indict the accused. The indictment was the formal charge of wrongdoing.

  Drug cases consumed eighty percent of the docket, and after half an hour the grand jurors were usually bored with their work.

  The grand jury convened at three p.m. on a Thursday afternoon, an hour after Judge Gantry had finished with some motion hearings. The courtroom was cleared and a deputy made sure the proceedings were private.

  Jack Hogan was planning to present the armed robbery case against Garth Tucker. Clem Hamm was waiting to testify for the State. At the last minute, though, Clifford Nance convinced Hogan to delay the case until the following month. Nance assured the prosecutor that he was working on a deal with the three defendants that would be agreeable with everyone. Hogan didn’t really care. He had more serious matters to worry about than an eighteen-year-old kid goofing around with a water pistol.