by John Grisham
“Nope. I’ll be there. I’ve done it before.”
“Doesn’t she need a real lawyer?” Edward asked.
“No, not in Animal Court. Even a moron like you could get through it.”
“What about the money?” Hallie asked.
“I can’t charge. I don’t have my license yet.”
“Not you, Theo. The money for the fine?”
“Oh, that. Here’s the plan. I’ll file a Notice of Retrieval, online. This means that Rocky is basically pleading guilty to a leash law violation, which is just a minor offense, and that you, as one of the owners, will pay a fine and retrieve him from the Pound. After school, you run by the hospital, see your mother, get the money, and I’ll meet you at the courthouse at four o’clock.”
“Thanks, Theo. Will Rocky be there?”
“No. Rocky stays at the Pound. You and your mother can pick him up later.”
“Why can’t I get him in court?” she asked.
Theo was often amazed at the ridiculous questions his friends asked. Animal Court was the lowest of all courts. Its nickname was Kitty Court, and it was treated like an unwanted stepchild by the judicial system. The judge was a lawyer who’d been kicked out of every firm in town. He wore blue jeans and combat boots and was humiliated to have such a low position. The rules allowed any person with an animal in trouble to appear without a lawyer and handle their own case. Most lawyers avoided Kitty Court because it was so far beneath their dignity. Its hearing room was in the basement of the courthouse, far away from the big leagues.
Did Hallie really believe that the officers hauled over a bunch of dogs and cats, chained and muzzled, every afternoon to get processed and returned to their owners? Criminal defendants were brought from jail and kept in the holding pen where they waited for their turn in front of a judge. But not dogs and cats.
A sarcastic reply almost escaped Theo’s lips, but instead he smiled at Hallie, even cuter now, and said, “Sorry, Hallie, but it doesn’t work that way. You’ll have Rocky at home tonight, safe and sound.”
“Thanks, Theo. You’re the best.”
On a normal day, those words would have rattled around Theo’s ears for hours, but this was not a normal day. He was too preoccupied with the trial of Pete Duffy. Ike was in the courtroom, and Theo texted him throughout the afternoon.
Theo wrote: > U there? Update plse.
Ike responded: >> Yep balcony. Big crowd. State rested 2 pm. Nice job raising doubt w divorce talk and old golfin buddies.
> Enough proof?
>> No way. This guys walkin. Unless . . .
> U got a plan?
>> Still workin on it. U comin to court?
> Maybe. Whats hapnin?
>> First witness for defense. Biz partner of Duffy. Boring.
> Gotta run. Chemistry. Later.
>> I want an A in Chemistry. OK?
> No problem.
Though Animal Court got little respect among the lawyers of Strattenburg, it was seldom dull. The case involved a boa constrictor named Herman, and evidently Herman had a knack for escaping. His adventures would not have been a problem if his owner lived out in the country, in a more rural setting. However, the owner, a punkish-looking thirty-year-old with tattoos crawling up his neck, lived in a crowded apartment building in a lesser part of town. A neighbor had been horrified to find Herman stretched across his kitchen floor early one morning as he was about to fix a bowl of oatmeal.
The neighbor was furious. Herman’s owner was indignant. Things were tense. Theo and Hallie sat in folding chairs, the only spectators in the tiny courtroom. The library at Boone & Boone was bigger and far nicer.
Herman was on display. He was in a large wire cage, perched on a corner of the bench, not far from Judge Yeck, who eyed him carefully. The only other official in court was an elderly clerk who’d been there for years and was known to be the grouchiest old bag in the entire building. She wanted no part of Herman. She had retreated to a far corner and still looked frightened.
“How would you like it, Judge?” the neighbor said. “Living in the same building with that creature, never knowing if it might come slithering across your bed while you’re asleep.”
“He’s harmless,” the owner said. “He doesn’t bite.”
“Harmless? What about a heart attack? It’s not right, Judge. You gotta protect us.”
“He doesn’t look harmless,” Judge Yeck said, and everyone looked at Herman, who was tangled around a fake tree limb, inside the cage, motionless, apparently asleep, unimpressed by the gravity of the proceedings.
“Isn’t he rather large for a red-tailed boa?” Judge Yeck asked, as if he’d seen his share of boa constrictors.
“Eighty-six inches, as best I can tell,” the owner said proudly. “A little on the long side.”
“You have other snakes in your apartment?” the judge asked.
“Several.”
“How many?”
“Four.”
“Oh my God,” the neighbor said. He looked faint.
“All boas?” the judge asked.
“Three boas and a king snake.”
“May I ask why?”
The owner shifted his weight, shrugged, said, “Some people like parrots, others like gerbils. Dogs, cats, horses, goats. Me, I like snakes. They’re nice pets.”
“Nice pets,” the neighbor hissed.
“Is this the first time one has escaped?” Judge Yeck asked.
“Yes,” said the owner.
“No,” said the neighbor.
“Well, that clears things up.”
As fascinating as it was, Theo was having trouble focusing on Herman and his problems. Two things diverted his attention. The most obvious was the fact that Hallie was sitting very close, and this made the moment one of Theo’s finest. But even this was overshadowed by the more serious issue of what to do about Julio’s cousin.
The murder trial was zipping right along. The lawyers and witnesses would soon be finished. Judge Gantry would soon give the case to the jury. The clock was ticking.
“You gotta protect us, Judge,” the neighbor said again.
“What do you want me to do?” Judge Yeck shot back. His patience was running out.
“Can’t you order it destroyed?”
“You want the death penalty for Herman?”
“Why not? There are children in our building.”
“Seems kind of harsh,” Judge Yeck said. It was obvious he was not going to order the death of Herman.
“Come on,” the owner said in disgust. “He’s never harmed anyone.”
“Can you make sure the snakes stay in your apartment?” the judge asked.
“Yes. You have my word.”
“Here’s what we’re going to do,” Judge Yeck said. “Take Herman home. I never want to see him again. We don’t have a place to keep him at the Pound. We don’t want him at the Pound. No one at the Pound likes Herman. Do you understand this?”
“I guess,” the owner said.
“If Herman escapes again, or if your snakes are caught outside of your apartment, then I have no choice but to order them destroyed. All of them. Clear enough?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I promise.”
“I bought an ax,” the neighbor said hotly. “A long-handle ax. Cost me twelve bucks at Home Depot.” He pointed angrily at Herman. “I see that snake, or any snake, in my apartment, or anywhere else, you won’t have to get involved, Your Honor, sir.”
“Settle down.”
“I swear I’ll kill him. Should’ve killed him this time, but I wasn’t thinking. And, I didn’t have an ax.”
“That’s enough,” Judge Yeck said. “Case dismissed.”
The owner rushed forward, grabbed the heavy cage, and gently lifted
it off the bench. Herman wasn’t fazed. He showed little interest in the debate over his death. The neighbor stomped out of the courtroom. The owner and Herman loitered about, then left, too.
After the doors were slammed, the clerk eased back to her seat near the bench. The judge looked at some paperwork, then glanced up at Theo and Hallie. There was no one else in the courtroom.
“Well, hello, Mr. Boone,” he said.
“Good afternoon, Judge,” Theo said.
“You have business before the court?”
“Yes, sir. I need to retrieve a dog.”
The judge picked up a sheet of paper, his docket. “Rocky?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well. You may come forward.”
Theo and Hallie walked through the small swinging gate to the only table. Theo showed her where to sit. He remained standing, just like a real lawyer.
“Proceed,” Judge Yeck said, obviously enjoying the moment and realizing that young Theo Boone was working hard to impress his very cute client. The judge smiled as he remembered Theo’s first appearance in his courtroom. He had been one frightened boy as he frantically worked to rescue a runaway mutt, one that he took home and named Judge.
“Well, Your Honor,” Theo began properly. “Rocky is a miniature schnauzer registered to Mr. Walter Kershaw, who is out of town on business. His wife, Dr. Phyllis Kershaw, is a pediatrician and could not be here. My client is their daughter, Hallie, who is in the eighth grade with me at the middle school.” Theo sort of waved at Hallie, who was terrified but also confident that Theo knew what he was doing.
Judge Yeck smiled down at Hallie. Then he said, “I see this is the second offense.”
“Yes, sir,” Theo said. “The first offense was four months ago and Mr. Kershaw handled matters at the Pound.”
“And Rocky is in custody?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You can’t deny the fact that he was loose, can you?”
“No, sir, but I ask the court to waive both the fine and the boarding fee.”
“On what grounds?”
“Sir, the owners took all reasonable steps to prevent their dog from getting out. As always, Rocky was left in a secure place. The house was locked. The alarm was on. The gates to the backyard fencing were closed. They did everything possible to prevent this. Rocky has quite a temper and often becomes irritated when he’s left alone. He likes to run away when he gets out. The owners know this. They were not being careless.”
The judge removed his reading glasses and chewed on a stem as he pondered this. “Is this true, Hallie?” he asked.
“Oh, yes, sir. We’re very concerned about Rocky getting out.”
“This is a very clever dog, Your Honor,” Theo said. “He somehow broke through a pet door in the laundry and escaped to the backyard, where he dug a hole under the fence.”
“Suppose he does it again.”
“The owners intend to beef up security, sir.”
“Very well. I’ll waive the fine and fee. But if Rocky gets caught again, I’ll double all fines and fees. Understand?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Case dismissed.”
As they were walking down the hallway on the first floor, headed for the main entrance, Hallie slid her hand around Theo’s left elbow. Arm in arm. He instinctively slowed down a little. What a moment. “You’re a great lawyer, Theo,” she said.
“Not really. Not yet.”
“Why don’t you call me sometime?” she asked.
Why? Now that was a good question. Probably because he assumed she was too busy talking to all the other boys. She changed boyfriends every other month. He’d never even thought of calling her.
“I’ll do that,” he said. But he knew he wouldn’t. He wasn’t exactly looking for a girlfriend, and besides, April would be devastated if he began chasing a flirt like Hallie.
Girls, murder trials, secret witnesses. Life was suddenly very complicated.
Chapter 13
After a long good-bye, Theo came back to Earth. He practically ran up the stairs to the second floor, then to the balcony, where he found Ike in the front row. He slid in beside him. It was almost 5:00 p.m.
The witness was the insurance agent who’d sold the $1 million policy to the Duffys just over two years earlier. Clifford Nance was slowly walking the agent through his dealings with the couple. He carefully made the point that two policies were purchased, one insuring the life of Mrs. Myra Duffy, and the other for Mr. Peter Duffy. Both were for $1 million. Both policies replaced existing policies that would pay $500,000 in the event of either death. There was nothing unusual about the transaction. The agent testified that it was rather typical—a married couple wisely increasing their coverage to protect each other in the event of an untimely death. Both Duffys knew exactly what they were doing and did not hesitate to upgrade their policies.
By the time Clifford Nance finished with the direct examination, the $1 million payoff sounded far less suspicious. Jack Hogan threw a few punches on cross-examination but nothing landed. When the agent was finished, Judge Gantry decided to call it a day.
Theo watched the jury file out of the courtroom as everyone waited, then he watched the defense team huddle around Pete Duffy and offer smug smiles and a few handshakes for another productive day in court. They were very confident. Omar Cheepe was not present.
“I don’t want to talk around here,” Ike said in a low voice. “Can you run by the office?”
“Sure.”
“Now?”
“I’m right behind you.”
Ten minutes later they were in Ike’s office with the door locked. Ike opened a small refrigerator on the floor behind his desk. “I have Budweiser and Sprite.”
“Budweiser,” Theo said.
Ike gave him a Sprite and popped the top of a can of Bud for himself. “Your options are limited,” he said, then took a sip.
“I figured.”
“First, you can do nothing. Tomorrow is Friday, and it looks like the defense will rest by midafternoon. Rumor is that Pete Duffy will testify, and go last. The jury might even get the case by late afternoon. If you do nothing, then the jury retires to the jury room and considers its verdict. They can find him guilty, or not guilty, or they can split and not be able to reach a verdict. A hung jury.”
Theo knew all this. In the past five years he’d watched far more trials than Ike.
His uncle continued: “Second, you can go to this mysterious witness and try to convince him to come forward immediately. I’m not sure what Judge Gantry would do now if confronted with this kind of testimony. I’m sure he’s never been in this position, but he’s a good judge and he’ll do what’s right.”
“This guy is not about to come forward. He’s too scared.”
“Okay, that leads to your third option. You can go to the judge anyway, and without revealing the name of the witness—”
“I don’t know his name.”
“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.”