The Accomplice (Theodore Boone 7)

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 this 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 b

ig 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.