“Looks like it,” Theo said, and walked back to his office. Because his parents were lawyers, there were a lot of rules in the family. One of the more irksome ones was that they expected Theo, when he was just hanging around the office in late afternoons, to hit the books and finish his homework. They expected near perfect grades, and Theo usually delivered. There was an occasional B on his report card, but nothing they could really complain about. When he got a B and they raised their eyebrows, he asked if they’d made straight A’s when they were kids. Well, of course. Didn’t all parents make straight A’s back in the glory days? He’d made a C in the fourth grade, in math, and he thought they might put him in Juvenile Detention. One lousy C and the entire world almost came to an end.
He couldn’t concentrate and the homework was boring, as always.
Ike called just after six p.m. “Just talked to the FBI,” he said. “More bad news. They watched the subway again and saw no sign of our man. Looks like he’s disappeared again. Vanished.”
“That’s hard to believe,” Theo said. On the one hand, he was relieved that Duffy was gone and he, Theo, would not get dragged any deeper into the situation. On the other hand, he felt bad for creating this mess. Again, he asked himself why, exactly, had he stuck his nose into this?
“What do you think happened?” he asked.
“Who knows, but there’s a good chance ol’ Pete isn’t as stupid as they think. He’s living on the run, a wanted man, and maybe he’s learned to see around corners. The FBI comes barging in like a pack of bloodhounds, and Duffy smells trouble. He notices people looking at him, sees some strange faces, and, since he’s spooked anyway, he decides to lay low for a while, to change his movements, take a different train, walk down a different street, wear a different suit. There are two million people in Washington, and he knows how to lose himself in a crowd.”
“I guess so.”
“They watched his apartment building all night, and he didn’t go home. That’s a good indication he knows something’s up. They’ll probably never find him now.”
“Too bad.”
“Anyway, there’s not much else we can do at this point.”
“Thanks, Ike.” Theo stuck his
phone in his pocket and went to tell his parents.
Wednesday night dinner meant take-out Chinese from the Dragon Lady, one of Theo’s favorite meals of the week. They ate on folding trays in the den and watched Perry Mason reruns, another of Theo’s favorites. Halfway through the first episode his mother said, “Theo, you’ve barely touched your food.”
Theo quickly crammed in a load of sweet-and-sour shrimp and said, “No way. It’s delicious and I’m starving.”
She gave him one of those motherly looks that said, “Sure, but I know the truth.”
“Are you worried, Theo?” his father asked.
“About what?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the FBI and the fact that they can’t find Pete Duffy.”
“Hadn’t thought about it,” he said.
His father smiled as he chewed and shot a knowing glance at Mrs. Boone. When their eyes returned to the television, Theo reached down and gave Judge half an egg roll, his favorite of all foods.
• • •
Early Thursday morning, Theo was having a quiet breakfast alone, with his daily bowl of Cheerios and glass of orange juice, with Judge at his feet having the same, minus the juice. His father had left early to have breakfast and gossip with his usual coffee gang downtown. His mother was in the den sipping a diet soda and reading the morning newspaper. Theo was thinking of nothing in particular, was in fact minding his own business and not looking for trouble or adventure, when the phone rang.
His mother called out, “Please get that, Theo.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said as he stood and reached for the phone. “Hello.”
A somewhat familiar voice said rather stiffly, “Yes, this is Agent Marcus Slade with the FBI. Could I speak to either Mr. or Mrs. Boone?”
“Uh, sure,” Theo said as his throat tightened. This is it, he thought in a flash, they’re coming after me! They’re mad because I’ve wasted so much of their time. He covered the phone and yelled, “Mom, it’s the FBI.”
How many eighth graders at Strattenburg Middle School had to deal with the FBI, he asked himself? When his mother picked up the phone in the den, he was tempted to stay on the line and listen in, but quickly changed his mind. Why ask for more trouble? He hid in the doorway that led to the den, just out of sight, and could hear her voice but not her words. When she hung up, Theo scrambled back to his chair and stuck in a mouthful of Cheerios. Mrs. Boone walked into the kitchen, stared at him as if he’d shot someone, and said, “That was the FBI.”
No kidding, Mom.
“They want to meet with us this morning at the office. They say it’s urgent.”
On the one hand, Theo was thrilled to be missing school again, but on the other hand reality hit quickly: The FBI was ticked off and they wanted to chew him out face-to-face. He said, “What do they want?”
“The agent wouldn’t say. They’re driving over now and we’ll meet at nine o’clock.”
“We? As in me too?”
“Yes, you’re invited.”
“Gosh, Mom, I hate to miss school,” he said with a straight face. And truthfully, at that moment, he’d rather get on his bike and hustle on to class.
An hour later they were hanging around the conference room, waiting on Ike, who was not a morning person at all. He finally arrived, red-eyed and grumpy, and went straight for the coffee. A few minutes later, Agents Slade and Ackerman walked in and everyone said hello. Mrs. Boone closed the door because Elsa was lurking close by, eager to listen in. Vince, the firm’s paralegal and one of Theo’s closest allies, was also hanging around, curious. And Dorothy, the real estate secretary, had her radar on high alert because all the warning signs were there: (1) Theo was missing school again, (2) Ike was present, and (3) the two FBI agents were back.
Slade went first and began with, “We’ll get right to the point. We’ve seen no sign of Pete Duffy. We think he’s changed his routine. We’re also convinced that he’s the man in the video, and we have reason to believe he’s still in Washington, DC.” He paused as if waiting for one of the Boones to ask how they knew this, but all Boones were silent. He continued, “We would like Theo and Ike to return to DC and help us with the search.”
Ackerman chimed in immediately, “You two have spotted him before. You know what he looks like because you’ve seen him before, here in Stattenburg. Theo, you said something in our first meeting about recognizing the way he walks, right?”
Theo wasn’t sure how to react. He’d been terrified when they all sat down at the table just seconds earlier, but suddenly he was intrigued by the thought of another trip to DC. And this one at the invitation of the FBI! They hadn’t come to arrest him—they wanted to join forces. “Uh, right,” Theo managed to say.
“Tell us about this,” Slade said.
Theo looked to his left, to his mother, then to his father on the right. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, I read this spy novel one time where this American guy was being followed by some Russian spies, the KGB, I think.”
“That’s right, the KGB,” Slade added.
“And the American knew that every face is different and faces are easy to disguise. But, he also knew that every person walks a different way, too, and it’s harder to disguise the way you walk. So he put a small pebble in his shoe and it made him walk funny. He lost the Russians and got away. They killed him later, but it wasn’t because he had a rock in shoe.”
“And you can identify Pete Duffy by the way he walks?” Ackerman asked.
“I don’t know about that, but when I followed him off the train last Thursday, I recognized his walk. Nothing strange about it, it’s just the way he walks. I saw him several times during the trial here.”
Both parents were frowning at him as if he were telling tall tales. Ike, though, was grinning and thoroughly enjoying his nephew.
Mr. Boone said, “Let me get this straight. You want Theo to go back to DC and watch people walk along the streets?”
Slade replied, “That, and to ride the Metro again and hope we get lucky. Theo and Ike. Look, it’s a longshot, but we have nothing to lose.”
Ike laughed and said rudely, “I love it. The FBI is the most powerful crime-fighting organization in the world, with the best technology money can buy, and you’re relying on a thirteen-year-old kid who thinks he can identify a person by the way he walks.”
Ackerman and Slade took deep breaths, ignored Ike, and moved on. Slade said, “We’ll fly you there and back, take care of all the expenses. Both of you. We’ll be with you and you’ll be surrounded by FBI agents. There’s no danger.”