The Scandal (Theodore Boone 6)

Mr. Mount looked at Theo, who quickly looked away. He let it pass, said nothing, and tried to lie low. The debate raged for half an hour, and Theo managed to keep his mouth shut.

Chapter 20

Theo was able to avoid controversy and conflict for the rest of the day, but as he was leaving school, after an extra hour in study hall, a seventh grader named Byron caught him at the bike rack. It was obvious Byron had been hanging around, waiting on Theo. He looked nervous and spoke rapidly.

“I need some help, Theo,” he said.

Theo was in no mood to help and just wanted to go hide in his office. But the kid looked pitiful. “Sure, what’s up?”

“Well, somebody told me you know all about Animal Court, and I’m in some pretty big trouble. Not really me, you know, but my family has a pet that’s causing some problems.”

“What kind of pet?”

“An otter.”

“An otter?”

“Yep. We live on the edge of town in an area where there are a bunch of small farms close together. We have a couple of ponds and some streams, and for the past two years this otter has been hanging around them. Do you know anything about otters?”

“Not really,” Theo replied with hesitation. He had a feeling that he was about to learn a lot about otters.

“Well, otters are very friendly little fellas, and this otter—we call him Otto—has sort of become a family pet. He hangs around the pond and sometimes he comes up to the house. We leave cat food out for him every night. Last year my dad even took him to the vet when he got sick. So, Otto is a little guy that we like a lot.”

“Otto the otter?”

“Yep.”

“And why is Otto in trouble?”

“Well, you see, there’s this family across the road, the Murrays, and they’re nice people and all, or they used to be nice anyway, but they’re kinda ticked off at us right now because the Murrays are really into gardening and stuff like that. Their place looks a lot better than ours. Back behind their house they have this fancy little pond—they call it a water garden—where they keep these big fat goldfish called koi. Are you familiar with koi?”

“No.”

“They’re these big ornamental fish; I think they come from the carp family. They’re beautiful, red and orange and white. We used to go over all the time, back when the families were speaking, and look at their koi. We’d feed them, too. Anyway, it looks like Otto has discovered their pond because a bunch of them were found dead, stripped down to the bones.”

“Otto has been eating the koi?”

“I guess so. They started complaining about a month ago, really upset. Mr. Murray threatened to shoot Otto if he caught him in the backyard. He didn’t catch him, but he kept finding dead koi that had been eaten. It’s a real mess. Then last week Mr. Murray called the house, yelling and cussing, and said he had set up a motion-activated video camera with night-vision stuff, and he caught Otto eating his koi. He’s got a video. Then he filed a complaint in Animal Court, and we’re supposed to have a hearing this afternoon.”

“This afternoon? It’s almost five o’clock now.”

“I know. We’re not sure what to do. My dad doesn’t want to hire a lawyer, and I was thinking maybe you could help us.”

Theo loved Animal Court and went there as often as possible, often pretending to be a lawyer. In Animal Court, lawyers were not required; the parties were allowed to represent themselves. Judge Yeck was a friend. Theo considered the situation and said, “Let’s go.”

Ten minutes later, Theo slid to a stop in front of the courthouse on Main Street. He ran to the basement and found a small empty room where lawyers sometimes met with their clients. He quickly pulled out his laptop and went to Google.

He had watched dozens of trials, and in doing so had learned the lesson that great lawyers leave nothing to chance. They succeed because they spend hours in preparation before they get inside the courtroom. He didn’t have much time, but he had to prepare. He skimmed the Wikipedia pages for otters, then the ones for koi. After a few minutes he raced to the other end of the basement where Judge Yeck conducted Animal Court four afternoons each week. In the hallway, Byron was waiting with his father. Quick introductions were made. Mr. Kerr said, “We got the otter outside in my truck, if you’d like to see him.”

“He’s very cute and makes a good impression,” Byron added.

“He’s here?” Theo asked.

“Yep. Billy’s got him in a cage.”

Theo thought for a second and said, “Probably not. Let’s not tell anyone that Otto has come to town.”

“Whatever,” Mr. Kerr said. “You’re the lawyer, I guess.”

They went inside, sat in folding chairs, and listened in amusement as two neighbors argued over a barking dog. Evidently, they had been there for some time because Judge Yeck looked extremely bored. He finally raised both hands and said, “This is the third time we’ve sat here and argued over this noisy dog. I prefer not to do so again. Mr. Dumas, you either put a muzzle on your dog, or keep him inside, or get rid of him altogether. I have no sympathy for a dog that barks all night and keeps the neighbors awake. Do you understand?”

“I can’t keep him in, Judge, because he’ll just bark all night in the house.”

“Too bad. That’s your problem, but it should not be your neighbors’ problem. I want the dog shut up, or I’ll have no choice but to put him down.”

“Can you do that?” Mr. Dumas asked.

“I certainly can. I have the authority, vested in me by city ordinance, to order the extermination of any animal inside the city limits. I’ll show you the law if you don’t believe me.”

Theo had read the ordinance and knew it well. He also knew that Judge Yeck had handed down the death sentence to only one animal, a rabid dog that had bitten two people. He liked to talk tough, like a lot of judges, but deep down inside he really loved animals.

Theo also suspected the judge would take a dim view of Otto’s nighttime raids into the Murrays’ water garden, but he knew Otto’s life was probably safe, for now anyway.

When the barking case was over, four people left the room, none of them happy. Judge Yeck looked at the remaining spectators and said, “Well, hello, Theo. Nice to see you as always. Are you involved in this last case, the hungry otter?”

“Yes, sir. And hello to you, too.”

“Okay. I’ll ask Mr. Murray and Mr. Kerr to come forward.” The two men walked a few steps and sat at the opposing tables. Mr. Murray pointed at Theo and looked at the judge. “Is he a lawyer?”

“Well, sort of,” replied the judge.

“Well, I don’t have a lawyer. Do I need one?”

“Not really. I can do a pretty good job of finding the truth, with or without lawyers.”

“Doesn’t seem fair,” Mr. Murray mumbled.

“I’ll keep it fair,” Judge Yeck said rather sternly. “You filed the complaint, Mr. Murray, so you’ll go first. How many witnesses do you have?”

“Just me.”

“Okay. Keep your seat and raise your right hand. Do

you swear to tell the truth?”

“I do.”

“Then tell us what happened.”

Mr. Murray shifted his weight and cleared his throat. “Well, Judge, I got this real nice water garden out back, got it landscaped and all, with lily pads and such. I spend a lot of time in the yard. About three years ago I started buying koi. Are you familiar with koi?”

“Sort of.”

“Fancy name for big fat goldfish. I think they originated in Japan a long time ago. There are a lot of varieties, lots of sizes and colors, and, well, they’re just beautiful in the water garden. They live forever, that is unless some damned otter comes along and raids the pond.”

“I don’t allow foul language in my courtroom, Mr. Murray.”

“Sorry. So I stocked the pond with a lot of koi. At one time I had close to a hundred. We love the fish. My grandkids love them. They’re just beautiful, and very hearty. Doesn’t matter how cold or hot it gets. They survive. I have enlarged some photographs if you’d like to see them.”

“Sure.”

Mr. Murray handed the judge three large photos of the koi in the water garden. He had a photo of his house and the Kerrs’. He was prepared, and Theo envied the time he had had to get ready for trial.

“Please continue,” Judge Yeck said.

“Yes, sir. Well about a month ago I went to feed the koi—got to feed ’em twice a day—and I was horrified to see some of them had been eaten. Something had attacked them in the water garden, dragged ’em out, and devoured them. Nothing but a few heads and a bunch of bones were left. I counted four of my koi dead. You wanna see?”

“Sure.”

Another large photo revealed the carnage. Judge Yeck studied it, then handed it to Theo, who gave it back to Mr. Murray.

“Please continue.”

“I didn’t know what to do. The next night I sat on the back porch till midnight, just waiting and watching. I figured whatever varmint did it had such a good time that he was bound to come back. Then I fell asleep. Sure enough, next morning I ran out there and there were three more dead koi. Slaughtered. I looked for teeth marks and footprints but couldn’t see anything. So I called John from across the road—”

“That’s Mr. Kerr?”

“Yes, sir, and I asked him if he had noticed any dead fish around his ponds. Got two ponds over there, and he said no. So I asked him about his otter. You see, Judge, they’ve been keeping this otter around their house for a couple of years now. He’s like a real pet. They even got a name for him. Kids play with him and all. He comes and goes as he pleases, and I suspected he might be involved with my koi. I’ve never seen him in my backyard, but otters usually move around at night. Two days later, I found two more dead koi. I called John Kerr again, and he got pretty irritated. Like I was accusing him of something. I guess I was, come to think of it. He said he didn’t know what the otter was doing at night, wasn’t his job to stay up and watch the little varmint. So a week or two went by with no more attacks. I was hoping it was over, but no. One day I found some more dead koi. Then some more. So last week I bought a video camera, one with night vision and activated by motion, and, sure enough, it caught their otter sneaking over and slithering into my water garden. Got the video right here.”

“Let’s roll the tape,” Judge Yeck said.