that lawyers needed from time to time. He and Mrs. Boone had once been involved in a nasty dispute in a divorce case, and Theo had heard Omar Cheepe described as “an armed thug,” and a “man who enjoyed breaking the law.” Theo, of course, was not supposed to hear such comments, but then he heard a lot around the office. He had never actually met Mr. Cheepe, but he’d seen him in court. The rumor was that if Omar Cheepe was working on the case, then someone had to be guilty.
Omar looked directly at Theo. He was thick, powerfully built, with a large round head that he kept shaved. The man tried to look menacing, and he was successful.
He turned away and hurried after Duffy.
They walked down Main Street, the boys in a loose group, moving fast to keep up with the defendant and his team. Omar Cheepe’s hulking frame protected Pete Duffy from the rear, as if someone might take a shot. Clifford Nance told a funny story, and the men had a good laugh.
Pete Duffy laughed the loudest. Guilty. Theo hated to believe this because not a single witness had testified. Plus, he liked to tell himself that he believed in the presumption of innocence.
Guilty, Theo said again, to himself. Why couldn’t he follow the law, give Mr. Duffy the benefit of innocence? Why couldn’t he do what good lawyers were supposed to do? This frustrated him as he followed along behind Mr. Duffy and his lawyers.
There was something missing in the case, and based on what had already been said in court, Theo suspected that the mystery might never be solved.
They filed into their seats, front row left side of the balcony, and allowed their lunch to settle. Judge Gantry had recessed until 1:00 p.m., some fifteen minutes away. Deputy Gossett, the old bailiff, lumbered over to them and said, “Theo.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is this your class?”
What else would it be, Deputy Gossett? A teacher, sixteen students? “Yes, sir.”
“Judge Gantry would like to see you, in chambers. And hurry. He’s a busy man.”
Theo pointed to himself, tried to think of something to say.
“The whole class,” Deputy Gossett said. “And hurry.”
They scrambled into formation behind Deputy Gossett and hustled down the stairs.
“In chambers” meant the judge was in his office behind the bench, adjacent to the courtroom. This office was different from his formal office down the hall. It was confusing and Theo was attempting to explain this when Deputy Gossett opened the door to a long, wood-paneled room with old portraits of old bearded judges covering the walls. Judge Gantry, without his black robe, rose from behind his desk and stepped out to meet the boys.
“Hello, Theo,” he said, embarrassing Theo slightly. The other students were too awestruck to speak.
“And you must be Mr. Mount,” the judge was saying as they shook hands.
“Yes, Judge, and this is my eighth-grade Government class.”
Since there were not enough seats for everyone, Judge Gantry addressed the boys where they stood. “Thank you for coming. It’s important for students to see our judicial system in action. What do you think so far?”
All sixteen boys were mute. What were they supposed to say?
Mr. Mount rescued them. “They are fascinated by the trial,” he said. “We just debriefed over lunch, rated the lawyers, talked about the jurors, and had a lot of opinions about guilt and innocence.”
“I won’t ask. But we have a couple of pretty good lawyers, don’t you think?”
All sixteen heads nodded.
“Is it true that Theo Boone actually gives legal advice?”
A few nervous laughs. Theo was both embarrassed and proud. “Yes, but I don’t charge them anything,” he said. A few more laughs.
“Any questions about the trial?” Judge Gantry asked.
“Yes, sir,” Brandon said. “On television you always see a surprise witness that comes out of nowhere and changes the trial. Is there a chance of a surprise witness here? If not, it seems like the State has a pretty weak case.”
“Good question, son. The answer is no. Our rules of procedure prohibit surprise witnesses. Television gets it all wrong. In real life, before the trial starts, each side must provide a list of all potential witnesses.”
“Who’s the first witness?” Jarvis asked.
“The victim’s sister, the lady who found the body. She’ll be followed by the homicide detectives. How long can you stay today?”
“We need to be back at school at three thirty,” Mr. Mount said.
“Okay. I’ll call a recess at three, and you can ease out. How are the seats up in the balcony?”
“Great, and thank you.”
“I’ve moved you down to the floor. Things have cleared out a bit. Again, thanks for taking such an interest in our judicial system. It’s very important to good government.” With that, Judge Gantry was finished. The students thanked him. He and Mr. Mount shook hands again.
Deputy Gossett led them out of chambers, back to the courtroom, down the main aisle, and to the second row behind the prosecution’s table. In front of them were the two young men who’d been introduced as Mrs. Duffy’s sons. The lawyers were only a few feet away. Across the aisle, Omar was now sitting behind Pete Duffy, his black eyes darting around the courtroom as if he might need to shoot someone. Once again, he looked directly at Theo.
They had gone from the cheap seats to ringside, and they couldn’t believe it. Chase, the mad scientist, was to Theo’s right, elbow to elbow. He whispered, “Did you pull some strings, Theo?”
“No, but Judge Gantry and I are pretty tight.”
“Nice work.”
At precisely 1:00 p.m., the bench bailiff stood and wailed, “Court is now in session. Please remain seated.”
Judge Gantry appeared in his robe and took his seat. He looked at Jack Hogan and said, “The State may call its first witness.”
From a side door, another bailiff escorted a well-dressed lady into the courtroom and to the witness chair. She placed her hand on a Bible and swore to tell the truth. When she was seated and the microphone adjusted, Mr. Hogan began his direct examination.
Her name was Emily Green, the sister of Myra Duffy. She was forty-four, lived in Strattenburg, worked as a fitness counselor, and on the day of the murder she had done exactly what Mr. Hogan described in his opening statement. When her sister didn’t show for lunch, and didn’t call, she became worried, then panicky. She called her repeatedly on her cell phone, then raced to Waverly Creek, to the Duffy home, and found her sister dead on the living room carpet.
It was obvious, at least to Theo, that Mr. Hogan and Ms. Green had carefully rehearsed her testimony. It was designed to establish death, and to evoke sympathy. When they finished, Clifford Nance stood and announced that he had no questions on cross-examination. Ms. Green was excused, and she took a seat in the front row, next to her two nephews, directly in front of Mr. Mount’s students.
The next witness was Detective Krone, from Homicide. Using the large screen and the projector, he and Jack Hogan laid out the neighborhood, the Duffy home, and the crime scene. Several important facts were established, though the jury already knew them. The front door was found open. The rear door and the side patio door were not locked. The alarm system was not engaged.
And new facts emerged. Fingerprint tests found matches throughout the house for Mr. Duffy, Mrs. Duffy, and their housekeeper, but this was to be expected. No other matches were found on doorknobs, windows, phones, drawers, the jewelry case, or the antique mahogany box where Mr. Duffy kept his expensive watches. This meant one of two things: (1) the thief/murderer wore gloves or carefully wiped away any prints, or (2) the thief/murderer was either Mr. Duffy or the housekeeper. The housekeeper was not at work on the day of the murder—she was out of town with her husband.
Whoever took the jewelry, guns, and watches had also yanked open several other cabinets and drawers and flung items on the floor. Detective Krone, who was pretty dull to listen to, methodically went through phot
o after photo of the mess left behind by the thief/murderer.
For the first time, the trial began to drag. Mr. Mount noticed a few of the boys starting to fidget. A couple of the jurors looked sleepy.
At precisely 3:00 p.m., Judge Gantry banged his gavel and announced a fifteen-minute recess. The courtroom emptied quickly. Everyone needed a break. Theo and his friends left the courthouse, boarded a small yellow bus, and ten minutes later were back at school in time for dismissal.
Thirty minutes after he left, Theo was back in the courthouse. He sprinted up the stairs to the third floor. There was no sign of the Finnemore war—no lawyers in the hallway, no sign of April. She had not called or answered his e-mails the night before, nor had she posted anything on her Facebook page. Her parents would not allow her to have a cell phone, so she could not text. This was not that unusual. About half of the eighth graders at the middle school did not have cell phones.
Theo hurried down to the second floor, entered the courtroom under the suspicious gaze of Deputy Gossett, and found a seat on the third row, behind the defense table. The defendant, Mr. Duffy, sat less than twenty feet away. Theo could hear his lawyers as they whispered important things. Omar Cheepe was still there. He noticed Theo when he sat down. As an experienced observer, Omar had the ability to see all movements, but he did it casually, as if he really didn’t care.
The witness was a doctor, the medical examiner who performed the autopsy on the victim. He was using a large color diagram of a human body from the chest up, with emphasis on the neck area. Theo paid more attention to Clifford Nance than to the witness. He watched Mr. Nance as he listened intently to the testimony, and took notes, and continually glanced at the jury. He seemed to miss nothing in the courtroom. He was relaxed and confident, though ready to attack if necessary.
His cross-examination of the doctor was quick and revealed nothing new. So far, Mr. Nance seemed content to agree with most of the prosecution’s witnesses. The fireworks would come later.
Judge Gantry adjourned court just after 5:00 p.m. Before he excused the jurors, he again warned them against discussing the case with anyone. After they filed out, the courtroom emptied. Theo hung around, watching the lawyers gather their files and books as they repacked their thick briefcases and talked in hushed tones. There were words across the aisle. Jack Hogan said something to Clifford Nance and both men laughed. The other, lesser lawyers joined in, and someone said, “How about a drink?”
Enemies one moment, old pals the next. Theo had seen it before. His mother had tried to explain that lawyers are paid to do a job, and to do it properly they had to park their personal feelings at the door. The real professionals, she said, never lose their cool and carry grudges.
Ike said that was nonsense. He despised most of the lawyers in town.
Omar Cheepe was not laughing, and he was not invited to have a drink with the enemy. He and Pete Duffy made a quick exit through a side door.
Chapter 7
Tuesday night meant dinner in a soup kitchen. It wasn’t the worst meal of the week. That would be Sunday night, when his mother attempted to roast a chicken. But it wasn’t a great meal either.
The soup kitchen was just called that. It really wasn’t a kitchen and they rarely served soup. It was a large dining room in the basement of a converted church where homeless people gathered to eat and spend the night. The food was prepared by volunteers who usually offered sandwiches, chips, fruit, cookies.
“Stuff from a bag,” Theo’s mother called it. Not all that healthy.
Theo had heard that there were around three hundred homeless people in Strattenburg. He saw them on Main Street, where they begged for money and slept on benches. He saw them in garbage Dumpsters scrounging for food. The city was alarmed at this number and by the lack of beds in shelters. The city council seemed to argue about this problem every week.
Mrs. Boone was alarmed, too. She had been so concerned about homeless mothers that she started a program to assist victims of domestic violence. Women who’d been beaten and threatened. Women who had no place to live, no one to turn to. Women with children who needed help and didn’t know where to find it. Mrs. Boone, along with several of the other female lawyers in town, had started a small legal clinic to reach out to these women.