The Accomplice (Theodore Boone 7)
Clifford offered a smug smile as if he knew everything. “Jack and I go way back. We’ve squared off in the courtroom many times. Murder trials, drug trials, you name it. We have great respect for each other, respect that has been earned. This is not a serious case, Rodney. This is the story of three boys out joyriding and doing something stupid. Again, nobody got hurt. I know Jack and I know I can convince him to back off and do Garth a favor. The Tuckers are nice people, unlike most of the criminal defendants Jack prosecutes. We just need for you to convince your clients to go along with our plan.”
“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?”