“Ike Boone,” he said, thrusting out a hand. “Brother of Woods, uncle of Theo. Used to be a lawyer around here.”
Mrs. Hardy managed a fake smile as if she remembered the name and shook his hand.
Mrs. Boone said, “Look, Irma, we have an urgent matter to discuss with Judge Gantry. I know he’s on the bench right now, the Duffy trial, and, well, that’s why we’re here. I’m afraid it’s crucial that we speak with him.”
Mr. Boone barged in, “What time will he break for lunch?”
“Usually around noon, same as always, but he’ll meet with all the lawyers during lunch,” Mrs. Hardy said, glancing at each of the four faces staring at her. “He’s extremely busy, you know.”
Theo looked at the large clock on the wall behind her. It was ten minutes after eleven.
“It’s imperative that we see the judge as soon as possible,” Mrs. Boone said, a bit too pushy in Theo’s opinion. But then, she was a divorce lawyer and she was not known to be timid.
But this was Mrs. Hardy’s turf and she was not one to be pushed around. “Well, it might be helpful if you tell me what’s up,” she said.
“I’m afraid it’s confidential,” Mr. Boone said with a frown.
“We simply can’t do that, Irma, I’m sorry,” Mrs. Boone added.
There were some chairs across the room, under yet more portraits of dead judges. Mrs. Hardy waved at them and said, “You may wait here. I’ll inform the judge as soon as he breaks for lunch.”
“Thank you, Irma,” Mrs. Boone said.
“Thanks,” Mr. Boone said.
Everyone took a breath, and smiled, and the Boones retreated.
“Theo, why aren’t you in school?” Mrs. Hardy asked.
“It’s a very long story,” he said. “I’ll tell you one day.”
The four Boones sat down, and within fifteen seconds Ike was leaving, mumbling about going for a smoke. Mrs. Boone was on her cell phone, checking on some pressing matter with Elsa back at the office. Mr. Boone was poring over a document from a file he’d brought.
Theo remembered Woody and the arrest of his brother. He opened his backpack, removed his laptop, and began searching the Criminal Court dockets and arrest records. Such information was not available to the public online, but Theo, as always, used the Boone law firm’s access code to find whatever he needed.
Woody’s brother, Tony, was being held in the Strattenburg Juvenile Detention Center, the fancy name for the jail where they locked up those under the age of eighteen. Tony was charged with possession of marijuana with intent to sell, a crime that carried a maximum sentence of ten years in prison. Because he was seventeen, a minor, he could probably work a deal that would allow him to plead guilty and serve two years in another youth facility. Assuming, of course, he agreed to plead guilty. If he wanted to plead not guilty, then he would face a jury and run the risk of a much longer sentence. Juveniles charged with drug violations went to trial in less than 2 percent of the cases.
If the parents and stepparents refused to help, as Woody had said, then his brother would be assigned to a public defender. In Strattenburg, the public defenders were very good and handled similar drug cases every day.
Theo quickly summarized this in an e-mail and zipped it to Woody. He sent another e-mail to Mr. Mount and explained that he was not at school and would miss Government. He sent a quick Hello to April.
The clock on the wall seemed to freeze. Mrs. Hardy was busy with her typing. All the dead judges seemed to stare down at Theo, none of them smiling, all somber-faced and suspicious, as if to say, “Son, what are you doing here?” His father was out in the hall, on the phone, dealing with some crucial real estate matter. His mother was on her laptop, pecking away as if lives were at stake. Ike was still by a window somewhere, blowing smoke out of the building.
Theo wandered off. He climbed the stairs and stopped by the Family Court office where he hoped to find Jenny, but she was not there. He drifted down to Animal Court, but the room was empty. Then he climbed an old, dark stairwell, the one no one used and few people even knew about, and silently made his way through a dimly lit hallway on the third floor until he came to an abandoned room that had once housed the county law library. It was used for storage and packed with boxes of old land records and outdated computers. A thick layer of dust covered everything, and Theo left footprints on the floor as he tiptoed through the rubble. He opened the door to a small closet, then closed the door behind him. The space was so dark he could not see his hands. Near the floor was a crack, a sliver of an opening, and through it Theo could see the courtroom below. His view was from high above, over the heads of the jurors.
It was a splendid view, one that Theo had discovered himself a year earlier when a crime victim testified in a case so horrible that Judge Gantry cleared the courtroom. Her testimony made Theo ill and he’d wished a thousand times that he had not spied on the trial. From inside the courtroom, the crack in the paneling could not be seen. It was just above a row of thick velvet curtains above the jury box.
One of Mr. Duffy’s golfing buddies was on the witness stand, and though Theo could not hear well he got the gist of the testimony. The witness was explaining that Mr. Duffy was a serious golfer, who, for several years now, had often played alone. This was not unusual. Many golfers, especially the more serious ones, like to work on their game by playing alone.
The courtroom was packed. Theo could not see the balcony, but he guessed it was crowded, too. He had a clear shot at Mr. Duffy, who sat among his lawyers at the defense table. He looked confident, almost certain that the trial was playing out in his favor and that the jury would find him not guilty.
Theo watched for a few minutes, then the lawyers started yelling and he slipped out of the closet. He was halfway down the stairwell when he saw something move on the landing below. Someone was down there, in the shadows, hiding. Theo froze and got a whiff of something burning. The man was smoking a cigarette, which was against the rules because they were still inside the building. He blew a huge cloud, then stepped onto the landing. It was Omar Cheepe, visible now with his massive slick head and black eyes. He looked up at Theo, said nothing, then turned and walked away.
Theo did not know if he’d been followed, or if the stairwell was one of Omar’s smoking places. There were cigarette butts everywhere. Maybe others sneaked down there for a smoke. A voice told him, though, that the encounter was not an accident.
It was almost 1:00 p.m. when Judge Gantry yanked open the door to his office and walked straight to the Boones as they sat like naughty schoolchildren waiting in the principal’s office. He wore no robe, no jacket, just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the tie loosened, the look of a man hard at work and under pressure. He did not smile and was clearly irritated.
The Boones jumped to their feet. There were no Hellos or greetings of any nature. Judge Gantry just said, “This better be good.”
“Sorry, Judge,” Mr. Boone managed to say first. “We understand what’s happening right now and realize the strain you’re under.”
“Our apologies, Henry,” Mrs. Boone added quickly. “But it’s a crucial matter that might impact this trial.”
By calling him Henry instead of Judge or something more formal, Mrs. Boone managed to cool things a bit. Regardless of how irritated the judge might appear, she was not the least bit intimidated.
“Just five minutes,” she added as she picked up her purse.
Judge Gantry glared at Theo as if he’d just shot someone, then he looked at Ike, managed a brief smile, and said, “Hello, Ike. It’s been a long time.”
“Yes it has, Henry,” Ike said.
The smile was gone, and Judge Gantry said, “You have five minutes.”
They quickly followed him back into his office, and as the door was closing Theo glanced back at Mrs. Irma Hardy. She was typing away, as if she had no interest in what was about to be discussed. Theo figured she would know
everything within half an hour.
The four Boones lined up in chairs on one side of a long worktable in one corner of the huge office. Judge Gantry faced them on the other. Theo sat between his parents, and though he was quite nervous he also felt well-protected.
His mother went first. “Henry, we have reason to believe that there is a witness to the murder of Myra Duffy. A witness who is hiding. A witness unknown to the police, the prosecutors, and certainly to the defense.”
“May I ask why Theo is in the middle of this?” the judge asked, his eyebrows arched and twitching. “Seems to me he should be in school right about now. This is not exactly a matter for a child.”
First, Theo actually preferred to be in school at that moment. Second, the use of the word child really irritated him. Theo said, slowly, “Because, Judge, I know who the witness is. They don’t, but I do.”
Judge Gantry’s eyes were red and he looked very tired. He exhaled, a long, impressive release of air, much like an inner tube finally being relieved of too much pressure. The thick wrinkles in his forehead flattened and relaxed. He asked, “And what’s your role in all this, Ike?”
“Oh, I’m just Theo’s legal adviser.” Ike thought it was funny but the humor was lost on the rest of them.
A pause, then, “Okay, why don’t we start at the beginning? I’d like to know what this witness allegedly saw. Who can tell me this?”
“I can,” Theo said. “But I promised I would never reveal his name.”
“You promised this to whom?”
“To the witness.”
“So you’ve talked to this witness?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And you believe he’s telling the truth?”
“I do, yes, sir.”
Another release of air. Another rub of the eyes. “All right, Theo. I’m listening. Please move things along.”
Theo told the story.
When he finished, the room was silent. Judge Gantry slowly reached over to a phone on the table, pushed a button, and said, “Mrs. Hardy, please inform the bailiff that I will be delayed for thirty minutes. Keep the jurors in the jury room.”
A crisp voice answered, “Yes, sir.”
He fell back into his chair. All four Boones watched him but he avoided their gaze.
“And you have the gloves?” he said, his voice much lower, much calmer.
“They’re in our office,” Mr. Boone said. “We’ll be happy to hand them over.”
Judge Gantry raised both hands, both palms visible. “No, no. Not yet anyway. Maybe later, maybe never. Just let me think for a moment.” And with that, he slowly got to his feet and walked to the window behind his massive desk at the other end of the room. He stood there for a moment, looking out, though there wasn’t much of a view. He seemed to forget that just down the hall there was a courtroom full of people and they were all anxiously waiting on him.
“Did I do okay?” Theo whispered to his mother. She smiled, patted his arm, and said, “Nice job, Teddy. Smile.”
The judge was back, in his chair, across the table. He looked at Theo and asked, “Why won’t this person come forward?”
Theo hesitated because if he said too much more, he might compromise the identity of Julio’s cousin. Ike decided to help. “Judge, the witness is an illegal immigrant, one of many around here. He’s skittish right now, and you can’t blame him. Any whiff of trouble, and he’ll vanish into the underground and be gone forever.”
Theo added, “He thinks he’ll be arrested if he comes forward.”
Ike added, “And Theo promised the guy he wouldn’t tell a soul.”
Mr. Boone added, “But he thinks it’s important to inform the court that a crucial witness is missing from the trial.”
Mrs. Boone added, “While at the same time protecting the identity of the witness.”