“But you know who he is, right?”
“Right.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“The general area. I don’t know his address.”
“Do you know where he works?”
“Maybe.”
Ike stared at him as he took another sip from the can. He swiped his lips with the back of a hand. “As I was saying, without revealing his identity, explain to the judge that a crucial witness is missing from this trial and his absence will likely lead to the wrong verdict. The judge, of course, will want details: Who is he? Where does he work? How did he become a witness? What, exactly, did he see? And so on. I suspect Judge Gantry will have a thousand questions and if you don’t answer them, then he might get upset.”
“I don’t like any of the three options,” Theo said.
“Nor do I.”
“Then what should I do, Ike?”
“Leave it alone, Theo. Don’t stick your nose into this mess. It’s no place for a kid. It’s no place for an adult. The jury is about to make the wrong decision, but based on the evidence, you can’t blame them. The system doesn’t always work, you know. Look at all the innocent people who’ve been sent to death row. Look at the guilty people who get off. Mistakes happen, Theo. Leave it alone.”
“But this mistake hasn’t happened yet, and it can be prevented.”
“I’m not sure it can be prevented. It’s highly unlikely that Judge Gantry will stop a big trial that’s almost over just because he hears about a potential witness. That’s a stretch, Theo.”
It did seem unlikely, and Theo had to agree. “I guess you’re right.”
“Of course I’m right, Theo. You’re just a kid. Butt out.”
“Okay, Ike.”
There was a long pause as they stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Finally, Ike said, “Promise me you won’t do something stupid.”
“Like what?”
“Like to go the judge. I know you two are buddies.”
Another pause.
“Promise me, Theo.”
“I promise I won’t do anything before I talk with you.”
“Fair enough.”
Theo jumped to his feet. “I need to go. I have a lot of homework.”
“How’s Spanish?”
“Great.”
“I hear that teacher is really something. Madame, what’s her name?”
“Madame Monique. She’s very good. How do you know—”
“I keep up, Theo. I’m not some crazy recluse like everybody thinks. Are they offering Chinese yet in this school system?”
“Maybe in the upper school.”
“I think you should start Chinese, on your own. It’s the language of the future, Theo.”
Once again, he was irked that his uncle was so free to give advice that was not asked for and certainly not needed. “I’ll think about it, Ike. Right now I’m pretty loaded.”
“I might watch the trial tomorrow,” Ike said. “I kind of enjoyed it today. Text me.”
“You got it, Ike.”
Boone & Boone was quiet when Theo made his appearance a few minutes after 6:00 p.m. Elsa, Vince, and Dorothy were long gone. Mrs. Boone was at home, no doubt skimming the pages of another bad novel. Her book club would meet at seven, at the home of Mrs. Esther Guthridge, for dinner and wine and a discussion of almost everything except their book of the month. The club had ten women in all, and they took turns selecting the books. Theo could not remember the last one that his mother enjoyed, not even the ones she’d picked. Each month she could be heard complaining about whatever book she was supposed to be reading. It seemed an odd way to run a club, at least in Theo’s opinion.
Woods Boone was stuffing his briefcase when Theo entered the upstairs office. Theo often wondered why his father crammed files and books into his briefcase and hauled it home every night as if he just might work until midnight. He did not. He never worked at home, never touched the briefcase, which he always placed under a table in the foyer near the front door. And there it sat, all night, until Mr. Boone left early in the morning for breakfast and then to the office, where he unpacked the briefcase and flung its contents onto his terribly disorganized desk. Theo suspected that the stuffing was always the same—same books, files, papers.
He had noticed that lawyers seldom go anywhere without a briefcase. Maybe to lunch. His mother hauled hers home, too, but she occasionally unlatched it and read some of its contents.
“A good day at school?” Mr. Boone asked.
“Great.”
“That’s good. Listen, Theo, your mother has book club tonight. I’m going over to Judge Plankmore’s for a little while. The old guy is fading fast and I need to sit with him for a couple of hours. Won’t be long before there’s a funeral.”
“Sure, Dad. No problem.”
Judge Plankmore was at least ninety years old and dying from multiple causes. He was a legend in the Strattenburg legal world and most of the lawyers adored him.
“There’s some leftover spaghetti you can zap in the microwave.”
“I’ll be fine, Dad. Don’t worry. I’ll probably study here for an hour or so, then go home. I’ll take care of Judge.”
“You’re sure?”
“No problem.”
Theo went to his office, unloaded his backpack, and was trying to concentrate on his Chemistry homework when there was a slight knock on the back door. It was Julio, for the second day in a row.
“Can we talk outside?” he said, very nervous.
“Come on in,” Theo said. “Everyone’s gone. We can talk in here.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. What’s up?”
Julio sat down. Theo closed the door.
“I talked with my cousin an hour ago. He’s very nervous. There were policemen at the golf course today. He thinks you’ve told them about him.”
“Come on, Julio. I haven’t told anyone. I swear it.”
“Then why were the police out there?”
“I have no idea. Did they want to talk to your cousin?”
“I don’t think so. He disappeared when he saw the police car.”
“Were the policemen wearing uniforms?”
“I think so.”
“Were they driving a car that was obviously a police car?”
“I think so.”
“Look, Julio, I gave you my word. I haven’t told the police. And if they wanted to talk to your cousin about the murder, they wouldn’t be we
aring uniforms and they wouldn’t be driving a car with the word POLICE painted on the doors. No way. They would be detectives, with coats and ties and unmarked cars.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Okay.”
“I guess your cousin gets pretty nervous when he sees policemen, right?”
“Most illegals do.”
“That’s my point. Tell your cousin to relax.”
“Relax? It’s hard to relax when you might get arrested any day of your life.”
“Good point.”
Julio was still nervous, his eyes darting around the small room as if someone else might be listening. There was a long, awkward pause while each waited for the other to say something. Finally, Julio said, “There’s something else.”
“What?”
His hands were shaking as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled out a clear plastic bag, a Ziploc. He laid it carefully on Theo’s desk as if it were a gift he never wanted to touch again. In it were two objects, white in color, slightly worn, and wadded.
Golf gloves.
“My cousin gave me this,” he said. “Two golf gloves, worn by the man he saw go into the house where the lady was killed. One for the right hand, one for the left. The right hand is new. The left hand has been used.”
Theo gawked at the gloves in the bag, but couldn’t move and for a moment couldn’t speak. “Where did he find—”
“When the man came out of the house, he took the gloves off and put them in his golf bag. Later, on the fourteenth tee, he placed these gloves in the trash