Theodore Boone - The Accomplice Page 6

  “Sure.”

  When the class was seated, Mr. Mount began with, “It’s clear that Woody is absent today and missed yesterday. Some of you have asked about him, and, well, to be honest about the situation, Woody is in jail. Along with his brother Tony. Theo has been to court twice trying to help, and he knows more about what’s going on. Theo.”

  As captain of the Debate Team, Theo had overcome his fear of speaking in public. Most of his classmates had not. Mr. Mount always said that most people, especially kids but even adults, fear public speaking. Theo enjoyed the attention, and he was secretly proud that he could do something most kids could not.

  He took a deep breath and walked to the front of the class. “I just got back from Youth Court,” he said gravely, as if he were the lawyer in charge of Woody’s defense. “Woody is doing okay but needs to get out of jail. The facts go something like this, and I cannot reveal everything because Youth Court cases are private matters. But sometime late Tuesday night, Woody and his older brother Tony were riding around with a friend. They stopped at a convenience store, something happened, and they were arrested later for armed robbery. They appeared in court Wednesday morning and again a few hours ago. My mother is trying to help them get out. The judge set their bail at ten thousand dollars each, and the family is trying to raise the money.”

  “They have to raise twenty thousand dollars?” Brandon asked.

  “No, not quite that much.”

  “What does bail mean?” Aaron asked. “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s kind of complicated,” Theo replied.

  Mr. Mount said, “Theo, why don’t you use Woody as an example and walk us through the bail system? And keep it as simple as possible.”

  Theo loved moments like this when the class was stumped by a legal issue or problem. He was suddenly the smooth and gifted trial lawyer pacing in front of the jury. “Okay, so Woody got arrested, charged with a crime, and put in jail. Since he is presumed to be innocent until proven guilty, he has the right to get out of jail, regardless of the crime. But, the police need to make sure he’ll show up in court when he’s expected. In theory, the police need some promise that he will not run away. I think in the old days criminals just disappeared after they got out. That doesn’t happen much today. Anyway, the police and judges developed the system of bail. You’ve heard the old saying: ‘Bail him out of jail.’ That’s what happens. The accused is required to put up some money or some land that the court can hold to make sure he doesn’t disappear. Since most people charged with crimes have little money and no property, they are forced to buy a bail bond. There are these guys who hang around the jail and the courtrooms trying to sell bail bonds to defendants. In Woody’s case, his bail is ten thousand dollars. His family doesn’t have that kind of money, so his mother will be forced to do business with a bail bondsman. For ten percent of the bail, in cash, this guy will give the court a bond, a written document that guarantees Woody’s appearance whenever he’s supposed to be in court. If Woody fails to show up, the bondsman has the right to go hunt him down and arrest him. As a rule, bail bondsmen are pretty tough guys.”

  “So Woody needs a thousand dollars?” Jarvis asked.

  “Right. And a thousand for his brother. Their mother simply doesn’t have the money, so they’re still in jail. They’ve been there for the past two nights.”

  “If he’s innocent, why is he stuck in jail?” asked Darren.

  “Good question, and I have no good answer. Let’s just say that the bail system is out of date and a lot of people are trying to change it. Last night I found online at least two national organizations working to reform bail laws. A lot of people are locked away when they should be working and taking care of their families.”

  “Which brings us back to Woody,” Mr. Mount said. “How can we help? I guess he needs a thousand dollars.”

  “Not really. He needs two thousand. Mrs. Lambert has to get two boys out of jail, not just one. And Woody told her he won’t leave without Tony. So it’s both or nothing.”

  During his slow ride back to school, Theo had pondered the idea of asking his friends to chip in all the money they could find. He was ready and willing to offer his savings of four hundred dollars, but he worried that most of the others had little to offer. They were, after all, only thirteen years old. On his tenth birthday, Theo’s parents had given him fifty dollars to deposit in his brand-new savings account, and each year they added fifty dollars to it. He was encouraged to stash away any spare cash he earned with the various odd jobs he was lucky enough to find. He was proud of his savings but willing to give it all away to help Woody.

  Theo was luckier than most of his friends and he knew it. He was an only child of two lawyers who were watching him closely and planning his future. He was often frustrated by the high levels of supervision, but his parents always seemed to know when to back off, a little. He was taught not to compare himself to his friends, but to simply accept them for who they were.

  Throwing four hundred dollars on the table like some big shot would not go over well with his friends. Chase Whipple wouldn’t mind because his family had money and Theo was close to him. Brandon would be impressed by such a gesture because his goal was to be the first millionaire in the class. He had his own paper route and was trading stocks online. However, he had been complaining recently about a downturn in the market.

  But the rest of the class would resent the challenge. And, it simply wouldn’t work. Theo suspected that only he and two or three others had savings accounts, and he wasn’t about to ask. At the moment, no one seemed eager to offer money.

  Mr. Mount said, “Okay, that’s our challenge. How can we raise two thousand dollars to bail out Woody and Tony?”

  A nervous silence followed, with no volunteers. Finally, Jarvis asked, “Is it true that the family has no money at all?”

  Theo replied, “I don’t know. I’m sure Mrs. Lambert is trying to scrape together something, but I haven’t asked. That’s really none of my business. Woody’s stepfather is working out of town and doesn’t want to help.”

  Chase asked, “Does Woody just stay in jail forever if he can’t make bail?”

  “Not forever,” Theo replied. “Eventually, he’ll go to court to face the charges, maybe have a trial. If he’s found not guilty, he’ll be released. If he’s found guilty, I suppose they send him away.”

  “Do you think he’s guilty, Theo?” asked Ricardo.

  “No, he’s not guilty of armed robbery. We know Woody. He’d never do something as terrible as that. I’ve talked to him and he says it’s just one big misunderstanding. He may be guilty of underage drinking, but nothing else.”

  Justin said, “I have a question, Theo. Suppose Woody can’t bail out and has to sit in jail until his trial. How long will that take?”

  “You never know. It varies, even in Youth Court. I guess several months.”

  “So, Woody sits in jail for months, flunks out of school, then goes to trial and let’s say he’s found not guilty. He goes home right, as if nothing happened? A clean record.”

  “Right.”

  “What about the time he just served? Does he get paid for that?”

  “No, of course not. It’s just wasted time.”

  “So what’s fair about this system?”

  “Who said it was fair?”

  “Well, you’re always talking about how great the court system is, how great the law is, how much you want to be a lawyer. That’s the last place I’d want to work.”

  Mr. Mount said, “Okay, let’s get back to the issue at hand. While we’re having this discussion, your friend Woody is sitting in jail, and I’m sure he is not doing his homework.”

  Theo suffered through the rest of the day. During study hall, which was supervised by Mr. Mount, he was called to the principal’s office. Mrs. Gladwell had prepared written instructions allowing Theo to leave an hour early and go to the jail. She had discussed Woody’s situation with Judge Pendergrast and they had
agreed that Theo could haul in the necessary textbooks and help his friend with his homework.

  Theo knew that the last thing Woody would want to see in jail was a stack of textbooks, but he said nothing. He left the school at two p.m., an hour before final bell. With some time to spare, he detoured to the courthouse and went to the public defenders’ office on the third floor where he was greeted by the same grouchy secretary he’d encountered on Tuesday.

  “I’d like to see Mr. Rodney Wall,” he asked without saying hello.

  She stopped typing, frowned at him, and said, “It’s you again. Why aren’t you in school?”

  “I’m excused and I have the paperwork to prove it.”

  She lost interest immediately, nodded toward a closed door, and said, “He’s in there.”

  Theo knocked on the door and a squeaky voice said, “Come in.”

  Rodney Wall looked young enough to be a senior at Strattenburg High School. He was a small guy seated in an oversized chair that dwarfed him. He wore round glasses and a scruffy beard that was probably an effort to make up for his lack of hair. He made no effort to stand or greet his visitor.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, but it was obvious that helping was not on his mind.

  Theo walked to the edge of his cluttered desk and said, “Yes, I’m Theodore Boone, a friend of Woody Lambert, your client. I’d like to talk about his case.”

  “Oh you would?”

  “Yes.”

  Wall arranged his hands so that his fingertips were touching. “Your mother is Marcella Boone.”

  “Yes.”

  “So is she planning to represent the Lambert boys?”

  “No, she is not. She appeared this morning just to get bail set and try to get them out of jail.”

  “Why is she sticking her nose into my business?”

  “Because you weren’t there. I stopped by this place three times yesterday looking for you so we could talk about the case, and you were out of the office.”

  “Sometimes that happens. Sometimes lawyers need to leave their office to go out and investigate. Why aren’t you in school?”

  “I have an official pass from my principal, Mrs. Gladwell. Feel free to call her.”

  “She sent you over here to my office to quiz me about my clients?” Behind his round glasses were two small eyes that glared at Theo without blinking. He did not stop tapping his fingertips together.

  “No, she sent me to the jail to help Woody with his homework. I’m on my way there now.”

  “I’ve heard about you, kid. You’re always hanging around the courthouse and bugging lawyers and judges and acting like you’re some kind of real lawyer. You show up in Animal Court all the time and take real cases, which anyone can do down there. Now you’re here poking around in my business.”

  “Look, can we talk about Woody’s case? He’s one of my best friends and he is not guilty of armed robbery.”

  “No. Both of your parents are lawyers, so you should know that a lawyer cannot discuss his client’s business with anyone else. It would be unethical for me to say anything about the case.”

  Theo knew the guy was right, and he knew he shouldn’t be there sticking his nose in another lawyer’s business. But he wanted Mr. Wall to know that someone was watching, and so far that someone was not too impressed with the defense. Theo asked, “Have you met with your clients yet?”

  Mr. Wall gave an exaggerated sigh as if greatly frustrated. “The answer is yes, and that’s the last answer I’m giving you. I met with Woody and Tony about three hours ago, and now I’m in the initial stages of writing a case report, which I will review with my supervisor and not with anyone else.”

  “Do you believe they’re innocent?”

  “Look, Mr. Theo, it’s time for you to leave. I have work to do. And I suppose you need to get down to the jail and help Woody with his homework.”

  Theo backed away from the desk, mumbled a halfhearted “Thanks,” and left the office.

  Instead of going to the jail, he headed north toward the edge of town, riding ten blocks or so until he came to a strip mall. Daisy Lambert worked thirty hours a week as a hairstylist and another thirty as a waitress. Theo had never been to her salon, never had a reason to visit, and he wasn’t sure he should barge right in. But the clock was ticking, in more ways than one, and now was not the time to be timid.

  In the reception area, several women of all ages lounged around reading magazines with all manner of foils and rollers and clamps affixed to their hair. Beyond them two rows of chairs were filled with women getting worked on. In the rear, in the last chair, Theo saw Daisy lost in a pile of thick orange curls and clipping away. With blinders on, he walked straight toward her, ignoring everyone else along the way and said, “Hi, Mrs. Lambert, got a minute?”

  Daisy was jolted at the sight of Theo in a place she would never expect him to be. “Well, sure, Theo,” she said, lowering her shears. “Excuse me one moment,” she whispered to her client. They stepped a few feet away and found privacy near the washing stations.

  “Sorry to bother you,” Theo said in a voice as low as possible.

  “Something wrong?” she asked, as if she expected everything to go wrong.

  “No. I’ll just get right to the point. I know it’s rude to talk about money but right now that’s all we can talk about. I have four hundred dollars. Some of my buddies are willing to pitch in some more. I’m going to ask my parents for a loan, and maybe my uncle, Ike, too. So, how much do we need to raise?”

  Her eyes watered instantly, and Theo’s first thought was that he hated to see Daisy cry. She said, “Oh, Theo, you can’t do this. Please.”

  “I’m doing it, Mrs. Lambert, okay? And I’m not going to argue. Woody is my close friend and he needs our help. Now, how much?”

  She wiped her eyes, thought for a second. “I talked to his father, my ex, and he said he would try and borrow some money, but I’m not counting on it. He never comes through. I’ve got three hundred dollars in the bank, and I’m trying to get more out of my husband. It’s tough, Theo. Times are tough for some people.”

  Especially Woody and Tony, he thought. “Okay, great, so we have seven hundred bucks that we can count on. That’s a start. I’ll get to work.”

  “I’ll pay you back, Theo, I promise.”

  “I’m not worried about that right now. Have you talked to a bail bondsman?”

  “No, I was going to call later this afternoon.”

  “I have one in mind.”

  “Thanks. I have to get back to work.”

  Theo had noticed the offices before. There were several of them on the side streets near the jail, all shady little places with cheap rents and temporary looks. They advertised with large signs, as if the guys behind bars could simply look out a window, jot down a phone number, make a call, and get out. The bail bond business seemed to attract those with backgrounds in police work and private investigations, and was not highly regulated, nor highly regarded. Theo had looked it over online and had decided he would rather not do business with any of the five companies he’d found in Strattenburg.

  But, there was no other choice. Judging from the online ads, and from the looks of the office, AAA Bail Bonds seemed like the best of the bunch. He parked his bike near its front door and took a deep breath. He reminded himself that he was just a kid and most adults were not rude or insulting to kids. He also reminded himself that he had just barged into the PD’s office without an appointment and stuck his nose into another lawyer’s business, and he had just invaded a hair salon where he had never felt so unwelcome. This could not be as bad.

  When Theo opened the door he was immediately hit with a wave of disgusting cigarette smoke. The battered reception desk was vacant. He could hear voices in the rear. Someone yelled, “Be there in a minute.”

  Theo waited by the door, ready to bolt if necessary. A man appeared, a thick tough-looking dude in a shirt with short sleeves that revealed biceps as round as softballs. The shirt was sort of
a light orange color, which would have been fine but for the bright green tie knotted thickly at his neck. Blue jeans, pointed-toe cowboy boots, gun on the hip. He was scowling and seemed ticked off at the disturbance, but when he saw Theo he broke into a wide smile and said, “Well, what brings you here?”

  “I’m Theodore Boone. My parents are Marcella and Woods Boone, both lawyers. You might know them.”

  “I think so. They don’t do much on the criminal side, right?”

  “That’s right.”

  “So why are you here? Have a seat,” he said, pointing to some plastic chairs. Theo didn’t want to stay long but sat down out of courtesy. “Name’s Sparky,” he said.

  No last name. Sparky seemed to be a fitting name for the place.

  “Yes, sir, well, my friend’s in jail and I’m trying to arrange his bail.”

  “How old is he?”

  “Thirteen. Woody Lambert. He’s with his brother Tony.”

  Sparky sat behind the desk and picked up some papers. He scanned a couple of them and said, “Oh, here it is. Armed robbery. Ten grand each. You need for me to write the bond?”

  “Sure, but the family has very little money.”

  “Gee, I’ve never heard that before. Where’s the family? Why are you here?”

  “The mom’s working; the father is away. I’m here as a friend. Is it true that you charge ten percent for the bail bond?”

  “That’s the ticket, son. A thousand bucks each and I can get ’em out in no time flat. Assuming I’m convinced they’re good boys with no intentions of running away.”

  “Why is it ten percent? Seems like it should be less when dealing with kids who aren’t really capable of running away.”

  “Oh, you think so? What do you know about the bail bond business?”

  “Not much.”

  “That’s what I figured. Look, kid, I’ve been doing this for twenty years, and I can promise you that every criminal is capable of running away. They do it all the time and it’s my job to go find them, grab them, bring them back here, and haul them in front of the judge. This is a risky business.”