“And how did he get a cell phone?”
“The police gave him one. They thought it was important for him to have one just in case something went wrong. He called me about an hour ago, said he’d talked to his friend, said he didn’t know what to do. Are things really that bad, Theo?”
Theo took a deep breath and tried to think of some way to make the truth sound better. “Well, Julio, you need to understand how things work in a trial. I know it’s probably confusing, but, no, it’s not that bad. In a trial, lawyers sometimes say things that maybe aren’t exactly accurate. Remember, Julio, that Pete Duffy is on trial for murder, and he’s facing the death penalty, and he has really good lawyers and they’re fighting hard to win the case for him. So they’ll say stuff that sounds bad but maybe really isn’t so awful. Bobby’ll do fine when he gets on the witness stand. And without him, the prosecution will have a hard time getting a conviction.”
“Did they call him a criminal?”
“Yes, they did.”
“And did they say he would lie to get some sort of a deal?”
“Yes, they did.”
Julio shook his head in disgust. “Sounds pretty bad to me.”
“It’s just the first day of the trial. It’s gonna be okay.”
“How do you know, Theo? You’re just a kid.”
Theo certainly felt like a kid. In fact, he felt like a stupid little boy who’d stuck his nose into a world where even grown-ups got roughed up.
Across the street and half a block away, Omar Cheepe sat low behind the wheel of an old cargo van, the kind of vehicle no one would ever notice. He was reading a newspaper that partially hid his face, and thin white wires dropped from his ears, as if he were listening to his iPod.
But it wasn’t music on an iPod. Omar was listening to every word being spoken in Theo’s office. Over the weekend, he and Paco had spent two hours inside the offices of Boone & Boone. The rear door had been easy to jimmy with a thin jackknife blade. The firm had no security system. It was, after all, just a law office with nothing of any real street value to pro
tect. Once inside, they planted four listening devices, each the size of a small matchbox: one in the back of a credenza in Mrs. Boone’s office, in a spot she would never see; one between two dusty old law books on a top shelf in Mr. Boone’s office; one on top of a thick law book in the conference room; and one on the underside of the rickety card table Theo used as a desk. Each would transmit for about two weeks before the batteries died. If they were ever discovered, chances were they would not be identified as listening devices. And, the Boones would have no idea who put them there. If necessary, Omar and Paco might reenter the offices during the night and retrieve their gadgets. But they probably would not. Why bother? The trial would soon be over.
Vince, the firm’s paralegal, had arrived first on Monday morning. As always, he turned on the lights, adjusted the thermostat, unlocked the doors, made the coffee, and gave the place his usual halfhearted inspection. He had seen nothing out of the ordinary, but then he expected to see nothing. The rear door was locked; there were no signs of an illegal entry.
Omar smiled to himself. “You’re just a kid,” he whispered.
Julio said, “This is all your fault, Theo. Bobby is my cousin and he’s a nice guy. He was just having a quiet lunch that day, sitting by himself in the woods, all alone so he could think about his family, saying his prayers, wanting to go home, and he just happened to see that guy in his golf cart. He didn’t know a murder took place. He was just minding his own business. He made the mistake of telling me and I made the mistake of telling you, and you got your parents involved, and then the judge. He was so happy when that Duffy guy ran away because then he didn’t have to get involved. Just think what it’s like, Theo, for a guy like Bobby. He doesn’t know what to do. We trusted you, and now Bobby is hiding in some motel with a couple of cops guarding him, just so he can come to court and get ripped up by a bunch of lawyers.”
He paused and stared at his feet. Theo could think of nothing to say. A long minute passed and the room was deathly quiet. Finally, Theo said, “Bobby’s doing the right thing here, Julio. It’s not easy, but sometimes a person just has to do what’s right. Bobby is a very important witness, in fact he’s the most important witness in the entire trial. No, he didn’t ask for this. He doesn’t want to get involved, but a woman was murdered by her own husband, in her own home, and he deserves to be punished. We can’t let murderers go free. Sure, Bobby was in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he can’t change that now. He saw what he saw, and he has a duty to come forward and tell the jury. He has nothing to gain, and the jury will believe him.”
Julio closed his eyes and looked as if he might start crying. Instead, he asked, “Will you talk to him? You have a cell phone.”
The idea terrified Theo. “Not sure that’s a good idea. The judge might think I’m trying to tamper with a witness.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a crime when either side tries to influence a witness. It’s called tampering. It’s okay for the lawyers to prepare their own witnesses for trial, but it’s not okay for someone else to, you know, put the squeeze on them. I’m not sure if it would apply to me, but it just doesn’t feel right.”
“I don’t understand all of this, and neither does Bobby. I guess that’s the problem. This is not our world.”
Theo stared at a wall as his mind raced in circles. Something told him it was important to get Bobby’s phone number. “How’s his English?” he asked.
“Not good. Not at all. Why?”
“Just thinking. Why don’t you send him a text on my phone, in Spanish of course, and tell him things are not as bad as he thinks?”
“Will we get in trouble?”
Fifty-fifty, Theo thought, but then they were not really trying to influence Bobby’s testimony. They were just trying to reassure him. And, Theo would have his number in his phone’s memory.
“No, we won’t get in trouble,” he said, without the slightest trace of confidence.
“I’ve never sent a text,” Julio said.
“Okay, just write a short message in Spanish and I’ll do it.”
Theo handed him a notepad and a pencil.
“What do I say?” Julio asked.
“Try this: ‘Hello Bobby, it’s me, Julio, on Theo’s phone. He says there’s nothing to worry about. You’ll do fine and you’re going to be okay.’”
If given the time, and also a Spanish dictionary, Theo could have prepared the message himself, but now was not the moment to experiment. Julio wrote in Spanish and handed Theo the notepad. “What’s the number?” Theo asked as he pulled out his cell phone.
Julio reached into his pocket for a scrap of paper and read from it: “445-555-8822.”
Theo punched in the number, the message, and hit Send. He placed the phone on his desk and watched it for a few seconds, hoping for an instant reply.
“How long has he been in a motel?” Theo asked.
“They moved him Saturday. His boss was upset, but the police told him to cool it. Bobby is an important person right now, and the police are being very nice to him.”
“I guess so. He’s the star witness. He’s gonna be fine, Julio, stop worrying.”
“Easy for you to say. I need to get home. I’m babysitting Hector and Rita.”
“Tell them I said hello.”
“I will.”
• • •
Omar watched Julio get on his bike and speed away. When the kid was out of sight, he removed his earphones, picked up his cell phone, and called Paco. With a nasty grin, he said, “Mr. Julio Pena just left the law office of young Theodore Boone. You’re not going to believe this. Our boy Bobby is now hiding in a motel in an unnamed town, cops all around. Can’t touch him, but he now has a cell phone and we got the number.”
“Beautiful.”
“How’s your Spanish?”
“What do you mean? It’s my native tongue, remember?”
• • •
At Robilio’s, the Boones settled around their favorite table and exchanged pleasantries with Mr. Robilio, the owner, who waited on them every Monday night. He bragged about the stuffed ravioli, the evening’s special, said it was perhaps the best ever. But then he said that every week about every special. After he left, Mrs. Boone immediately said, “Okay, Theo, tell us about the trial. I want to hear everything.”
Theo was sick of the trial and didn’t want to talk about anything. However, his parents had been kind enough to allow him to skip school, so he figured he