by John Grisham
They met in the basement game room of the Whipple home, and, after half an hour of Ping-Pong, they got down to business. Of course, first they had to replay the fight. Chase, who had never struck another person in anger, had witnessed the entire brawl and had been thrilled with the excitement. Woody reported that his mother yelled at him, then started crying. His father just shrugged and said, “Boys will be boys.”
Theo swore them to secrecy. He even made them raise their right hands and promise to tell nothing, and when he was satisfied they could be trusted, he told them the entire story. Everything. The slashed tires, broken window, vandalized locker, planted loot, meetings with the detectives, everything. Then he got around to Ike and his research, though Theo did not confess to lifting the password from Vince’s computer. He described how Ike had gone through the law firm’s divorce files and identified a probable suspect, or suspects.
“That’s brilliant,” Woody said.
“It makes sense,” Chase added. “The guy behind all of this is somebody who hates you and you don’t even realize it.”
Theo agreed, and then talked about the Finn boys and their parents’ ugly divorce.
“My brother is in the tenth grade,” Woody said. “I wonder if he knows Jessie Finn.”
“We gotta find out,” Theo said. “That’s our project right now—to find out all we can about these two guys.” Chase left to go upstairs and get his laptop. Woody pulled out his cell phone and called his brother, Tony, but got voice mail. Theo called Griff who reported he had made no progress in getting the name of the ninth grader who was trying to sell black market 0-4 Tablets for fifty dollars. Griff promised to keep trying.
Mrs. Whipple, who was also a lawyer and close friend of Mrs. Boone, brought down a platter of cookies and a carton of milk. She asked how the Chemistry project was going and all three claimed to be excited with their progress. After she left, Chase went to the website of Strattenburg High School, and after a few minutes of browsing said, “There are three hundred and twenty ninth graders at SHS. Guess how many are named Jessie?”
“Four,” Woody said.
“Three,” Theo said.
“Two,” Chase answered. “Jessie Finn and Jessie Neumeyer. We need to get the name from Griff.”
“I’m trying,” Theo said.
“Griff,” Woody hissed. “I’m going to punch that kid out next time I catch him off campus. I can’t believe he jumped on me like that. What a little twerp.”
“Knock it off,” Theo said. “As of now Griff is on our side. Besides, he apologized. So did Baxter.”
“Baxter hasn’t apologized to me. I’d like to see his eye right now. Probably black-and-blue.”
Chase went to Google Earth and typed in the Finn’s address on Edgecomb Street, near the college. He zoomed in and said, “Here’s their house.” Theo and Woody huddled behind Chase, and all three looked at the screen. The Finn home was a two-story white frame on a street lined with several just like it. There was nothing different or remarkable about it. In the backyard there was a small, aboveground pool, and along the back fence there was a storage shed. The information was nice to have, but of no real value.
Theo’s cell phone vibrated in his pocket. He yanked it out, opened it, looked at the screen, and said, “It’s Griff.”
Griff told Theo that his sister had finally made contact with Benny, and Benny had called Gordy, and Gordy had reluctantly said that the guy peddling the 0-4 Tablets was named Jessie somebody, didn’t know his last name and really didn’t know much about him. Griff assured Theo that his sister had not revealed the reason for her interest. Theo again stressed the need for secrecy.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Woody said.
“Why don’t we go to the police?” Chase asked. “They can talk to both Jessies in the ninth grade and find out which one is trying to sell the stuff.”
“It’s too early,” Theo said. “Suppose it’s Jessie Finn. When the cops approach him, what’s he gonna do? Admit he’s got a stash of stolen computers and cell phones? Fall on his knees and confess everything? No way. He’ll just deny it all, and if the cops can’t find any of the loot in his backpack, they can’t do anything. He’ll get scared and we’ll never find the stuff.”
“Theo’s right,” Woody added. “We have to buy it from him. Then we give it to the police and they check the registration numbers.”
“How are we going to buy it?” Chase asked.
“That’s the big question,” Theo said. “First, we start with Gordy. If he’ll agree to help us, then he can hook up with Jessie Finn and buy the tablet.”
“I don’t know this Gordy guy,” Woody said, “but I doubt if he’s that stupid. Why would anyone get involved in this mess? We can’t really expect him to buy a tablet he knows is stolen, and then hand it over to us when we’re taking it straight to the police.”
“He won’t get into trouble,” Theo said. “Not if he’s helping solve a crime.”
“I don’t think so,” Woody said.
“I agree with Woody,” Chase said.
“What about Tony, your brother?” Theo asked.
“Are you sure he won’t get into trouble?”
“I’m positive. If he helps the police find stolen goods, they’ll thank him and pat him on the back. I happen to know the law, remember?”
“How could we ever forget,” Chase said.
“Well, as you know, Tony will do anything. He’s an idiot and loves to meddle in everybody else’s business. That’s a great idea, Theo. But where do we get fifty bucks?”
“I’ve already got it,” Theo said.
Woody looked at Chase, who said, “Why am I not surprised?”
“Call him again,” Theo said, and Woody pulled out his cell phone. He smiled as it was ringing, then said, “Hey, Tony, it’s me.” They talked for a few minutes and Woody did not mention their idea of getting Tony involved. Woody explained that they needed some inside dirt on a ninth grader named Jessie Finn. Tony did not know him but said he would start digging.
For half an hour, the gang of three kicked around ideas of how to nail the Finn boys, who by now were guilty beyond any doubt. Chase found their photos from a student directory and printed enlarged copies of their faces. Theo stared at the two, certain he had never seen them before. Jessie Finn had a Facebook page (Jonah did not), and Chase scanned it but found nothing that would interest them or help in their search for clues. Woody, who was sprawled on the sofa playing catch with a Ping-Pong ball, remembered a story. “You know, this makes perfect sense. I have two cousins who live near Baltimore, and last year their parents went through a nasty divorce. It was awful. I remember my two cousins saying bad things about their father’s divorce lawyer. They really hated the guy, and I guess he was just doing his job. Does your mother worry about such things, Theo?”
“I’m sure she does, but she never talks about it.”
“It’s her job,” Chase observed. The son of a lawyer.
Chapter 21
Sunday morning, Theo sat in church between his parents and tried to listen to the sermon being delivered by the Reverend Judd Koker, but it was a challenge. In a cruel twist, the message was on the evils of thievery, of stealing, and Theo felt as though he might be the target. He had caught a few stares before the service began, and almost bolted from the sanctuary when Mrs. Phyllis Thornberry happened by their pew and let it slip that they were “ . . . praying for Theo.” Mrs. Thornberry was an ancient member of the church and a terrible gossip, and Theo’s parents somehow resisted the urge to inform her that Theo was fine. Save your prayers for those who are truly in need.
Theo liked Reverend Koker because he was young and energetic, and his sermons were sprinkled with humor and mercifully short. The old dude before him, “Pastor Pat” as he was known, had led the church for thirty years and was an awful preacher, in Theo’s opinion. His sermons were long and dull and could force even the most devout worshipper into a near-comalike trance in a matter of minutes. Ko
ker, though, knew the art of the short sermon, and so far in his brief ministry at the church, he had been well received.
The point of his sermon was that there are various ways in which we steal, and all of them are wrong in God’s eyes. The Eighth Commandment proclaimed by Moses was Thou Shall Not Steal, which, of course, means it is wrong to take something that belongs to another person. Koker was expanding on this, though, to include other forms of theft. Stealing time away from God, family, friends. Stealing the gift of good health by pursing bad habits. Stealing from the future by missing opportunities in the present. And so on. It was pretty confusing. Theo glazed over fairly quickly and began thinking about the Finn boys, and, specifically, how he and his little gang might get their hands on some of the stolen goods the Finns were perhaps trying to sell.
Theo knew quite well that the first thing his father would say when they were in the car was, “Theo, how did you like the sermon?” For that reason, and none other, Theo tried desperately to pay attention.
Theo glanced around and realized he wasn’t the only one drifting away. It was not a good sermon. His mind began to wander again. He asked himself how all of these fine people seated around him would react if “cute little Teddy Boone” got arrested and hauled into court. And what would they think if he couldn’t come to church anymore because he was locked away in a juvenile detention center?
It was too awful to think about. Theo again tried to concentrate on the sermon, but his mind was racing. He began to fidget, and his mother squeezed his knee. He looked at his watch, but it seemed to have stopped cold.
It was the second Sunday of the month, and this caused an unpleasant mood in the Boone family. Second Sunday meant that Theo and his parents would not leave church and go directly home, where they would lunch on sandwiches, read the Sunday newspapers, watch a game on television, take naps, and in general observe a day of rest. No, sir. Second Sunday had evolved into a ritual so dreadful that Theo and his parents were having sharp words. The Boones and three other families had established a tradition of rotating brunch on the second Sunday of each month, which meant that Theo would be required to suffer through a long meal at a long table with a bunch of adults and listen to them talk about things in which he had little interest. Theo was a late child, and this meant that he was by far the youngest person invited to Second Sunday.
The oldest person was a retired judge named Kermit Lusk, who was also an elder in their church and a man of great wisdom and humor. He was pushing eighty, as was his wife, and their children were long gone. The rotation had brought the brunch to the Lusk home, a cramped and cluttered old house in bad need of a good sandblasting, at least in Theo’s opinion. His opinions, though, were not worth much during these insufferable meals.
In the car, Mr. Boone said as he did every Sunday, “So, Theo, how did you like the sermon?”
“It was boring and you know it,” Theo shot back, already mad again. “I fell asleep twice.”
“It was not one of his better efforts,” Mrs. Boone agreed.
They rode in silence to the Lusk home, the tension rising the closer they got. When they parked at the curb, Theo said, “I’ll just stay in the car. I’m not hungry.”
“Let’s go, Theo,” his father said sternly. Theo slammed the door and followed his parents inside. He hated these brunches and his parents knew it. Fortunately, Theo could sense some weakness on the part of his mother, perhaps a twinge of sympathy. She knew how miserable he was, and she understood why.
Inside, Theo managed a fake, metallic smile as he said hello to Mr. and Mrs. Garbowski, a pleasant couple about the same age as Theo’s parents whose sixteen-year-old son, Phil, threatened to run away from home if his parents forced him to go to brunch on Second Sundays. The Garbowskis caved in and Phil was still at home. Theo admired him greatly and was pondering the same strategy. He said hello to Mr. and Mrs. Salmon. He owned a lumber company and she taught at the college. They had three children, all older than Theo and none present.
Just great, Theo mumbled to himself. Eight adults and me.
Since nothing can make one hungrier than sitting in church and waiting for lunch, the group soon took their seats around the dining-room table. Judge Lusk gave a quick prayer of thanks, and a housekeeper appeared with the first course, a salad. A dry salad, Theo noted. Dressing wasn’t expensive, was it? Where was the dressing? But he dove in, starved.
“What did you think of the sermon?” Judge Lusk asked. Since all four families attended the same church, the sermon was usually analyzed first. Great, thought Theo. Bad enough to suffer through it live and in color, now I get tortured again. Regardless of how bad a sermon might have been, no one, over brunch, ever suggested that it was anything short of brilliant. Even Pastor Pat had received rave reviews, though there had been some remarks like, “Perhaps he could’ve shaved off fifteen minutes.”
The second course was baked chicken and gravy, and it was delicious. Theo, using perfect table manners because his mother was always watching, dug in and ate like a refugee. In her old age, Mrs. Lusk had stopped cooking, and this had been well received. Her housekeeper was an excellent cook. The Garbowskis would host the next Second Sunday, then the Boones. Theo’s mother made no pretense of preparing a fine meal and always had it catered by a Turkish woman who fixed amazing dishes.
Much to Theo’s delight, the conversation turned to Pete Duffy and his adventures of the past week. This sparked lively comments around the table as everyone wanted to rush in with their opinions and reports of the latest rumors. The verdict was unanimous—everyone was convinced Duffy had murdered his wife—and his flight from justice was further proof of his guilt. Mr. Salmon claimed to know Pete well and was of the opinion that he had stashed away plenty of cash and would probably never be found. Judge Lusk disagreed and argued that Duffy’s close call at the airport in Chicago was proof that he would make another mistake sooner or later.
Theo ate in silence and listened with interest. The conversation was usually about politics and what was happening in Washington, but this was far more interesting. Then he had a miserable thought. Would these people one day soon be talking about him? Had any of these people ever been charged with a crime? He had serious doubts about that. Were the Boones and their son already the topic of hushed conversations behind their backs?
He cleaned his plate and waited on dessert. What he was really waiting on was two o’clock, the magic moment when it was time to go.
Late Sunday afternoon, Theo rode his bike across town and met April at an ice-cream parlor near Stratten College. April got a frozen yogurt and Theo got his favorite—chocolate gelato covered in crushed Oreos, and they found a booth away from the other customers.
“I talked to Rodney Tapscott,” she said in a low voice. “I went over to his house last night and watched television.”
Theo took a large bite and said, “Okay, I’m listening.”
“Well, without sounding suspicious, I managed to get around to Jonah Finn. Rodney knows that you and I are close friends, so I was careful not to seem too nosy. Rodney said that Jonah is a weird kid who’s been acting even stranger since his parents are divorcing, says he’s real moody, even angry. Jonah doesn’t have many friends. He bums money off of Rodney and other kids to buy lunch. His grades are getting worse; the kid’s a wreck. He said that one day they were talking and Jonah said something about how much he dislikes your mother. I asked why was that. Rodney said it’s because their father blames your mother for most of their problems, said that she’s trying to make Jonah and his brother live with their mother, and they rea- lly don’t want to.”
“I kinda figured that,” Theo said, glancing around.
“He said Jonah’s father says bad things about your mother. All the money’s going for legal fees, and on top of that your mother is trying to get Jonah’s father to pay too much in child support and alimony. Rodney asked me if you’re a good guy, and, of course, I said yes.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it. Here’s the interesting part. Rodney’s never seen Jonah with a cell phone. Seventh graders are not supposed to have them at school anyway, but last week, he thinks it was Thursday, while they were on lunch break, Jonah showed him a new Excell SmartPhone. He said his father bought it for him. Rodney thought it was odd because the guy never has a dime.”
“The store was broken into Tuesday night,” Theo said, ignoring his gelato.
“That’s right. Do you know what was stolen?”
“Just what was in the newspaper. Some laptops, tablets, cell phones, and a few other items.”
“Excell SmartPhones?”
“I have no idea. The police do not release that type of information.”
“It gets better. On Friday, they were in the library and Jonah was studying in a cubicle, one of those on the second floor by the computer lab. He was at a desk, all hunched over, as if he was trying to hide whatever he was doing. Rodney saw him and was curious. He managed to ease behind him, and he saw Jonah playing a video game on an eight-inch screen tablet.”
“The Linx 0-4 has an eight-inch screen.”
“Exactly. And there’s no way Jonah can afford one.”
Theo took a small bite but could taste nothing. “We have to get that tablet. Somehow.”
“Any ideas?”
“No, not right now. Do you think Rodney would help?”
“I doubt it. He’s not the type of kid who’ll rat out a friend. He likes Jonah, says he’s strange and all, but he also feels sorry for the kid. I didn’t seem too interested in all of this because I didn’t want to appear too eager.”
“This is good stuff, April.”
“Can’t you just go to the police and tell them?”
“Maybe, I don’t know. Let me think about it.”