Mrs. Boone said, “It’s difficult because he is guilty of escape and evasion. That’s pretty clear.”
“Ike thinks he’ll try to get a plea bargain,” Theo said.
“I doubt that,” said Mr. Boone, always quick to disagree with Ike. “Why would he agree to accept a life sentence with no chance of ever getting out?”
“To save his neck,” Mrs. Boone said, always quick to disagree with her husband, at least on legal matters. “He’s facing the death penalty, Woods.”
“I know that.”
The reporter walked a few steps and said hello to Jack Hogan, the longtime prosecutor for Stratten County. She asked Mr. Hogan about the details of Duffy’s capture in DC, but Hogan said he could not discuss the matter.
For a second, Theo couldn’t breathe.
Then she asked Hogan about the charges Duffy was facing. Same as last time, he replied. Murder, first of all. And now, obviously, escape. When would Duffy make his first court appearance? That had not yet been determined, Hogan replied, and it was clear he wasn’t saying much. The reporter finally thanked him and signed off.
“Bedtime,” Mrs. Boone said, and Theo trudged up the stairs with his dog at his heels.
Judge had no trouble falling asleep under the bed, but Theo couldn’t keep his eyes closed. At some point in the long, dark night, a brilliant idea came to him. Mr. Mount required a ten-page research paper to be turned in at the end of the semester. Theo would write his about the preliminary matters that take place before a big criminal trial. There were all sorts of important maneuvers in the early stages as the lawyers tried to gain advantage. They argued about bail. They filed motions to change venue, or move the trial to another city. They fought hard over what evidence should or should not be presented to the jury. And so on. Most people were not aware of all the work that went into a trial long before it ever started.
Theo, though, would explain it all in his research paper. And, if Mr. Mount agreed, Theo would need to spend a lot of time in court.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized how brilliant it was.
Mr. Mount liked the idea, too. Theo was so excited it was impossible to say no. That was Thursday. On Friday, Theo informed him that he needed to be in court at one fifteen for Pete Duffy’s first appearance since being hauled back to Strattenburg. To be in court on time meant Theo had to be excused from PE class by Mr. Tyler, and study hall by Mr. Mount himself. Theo had to haggle with Mr. Tyler for a few minutes before he gave in. It was, after all, Friday afternoon, and Theo was normally exempt from PE anyway. He had an asthma problem that he used to his advantage whenever necessary.
So, at ten minutes after one, Theo and Ike were sitting in a courtroom that was buzzing with excitement since quite a few other curious folks showed up for a look at Mr. Duffy. Theo recognized most of the clerks and bailiffs. There was the usual collection of bored lawyers who hung around the courtroom, doing little but trying to look important. There were at least three reporters and a few off-duty policemen. At the defendant’s table, Mr. Clifford Nance was chatting with two other lawyers. At the prosecution’s table, Mr. Jack Hogan and his crew were reading some documents that must have been difficult to read, judging by their frowns.
A door opened and two large deputies stepped into the courtroom. Behind them was Pete Duffy, in an orange city jail jumpsuit, his wrists and ankles cuffed and chained. Everyone stopped talking and stared in disbelief. It was really him. Caught! The rich guy with the expensive suits and confident air was now reduced to the status of a lowly inmate in the city jail. The handsome, well-groomed gentleman now looked like a lowlife with badly dyed blond hair and an unshaven face.
The deputies quickly unshackled him. He rubbed his wrists as they led him to a chair at the defendant’s table. Clifford Nance leaned down and said something to him. Duffy looked wildly around the courtroom, startled at the number of people there to observe him. He looked frightened and disoriented, like he couldn’t believe he was back.
In the front row behind the bar, where the spectators sat, Theo caught a glimpse of Omar Cheepe, one of Duffy’s men.
A bailiff called court to order, everyone stood, and Judge Henry Gantry appeared from a door in the rear. He tapped his gavel and asked everyone to have a seat. Not wasting time, he looked at the defendant and said, “Would you approach the bench?”
Duffy stood and took a few steps to a spot in front of the bench. He looked up. Judge Gantry looked down. Clifford Nance slowly made his way over to stand beside his client.
“You are Pete Duffy?” the judge asked.
“I am.”
“Welcome home.”
“Thank you.”
“Is Mr. Clifford Nance here still your lawyer?”
“He is.”
“You are still charged with the capital murder of your wife, Ms. Myra Duffy. Do you understand this?”
“I do.”
“Do you wish to plead guilty or not guilty?”
“Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“And you are also charged with escape. Have you discussed this charge with your attorney?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“And how do you wish to plead?”
“Not guilty.”
“Thank you. You may be seated.”
Duffy and Nance sat down. Judge Gantry said he wanted the case to proceed as rapidly as possible, would not tolerate delays by either side, and was quite eager to set a trial date. Clifford Nance mentioned the possibility of a hearing on the issue of bail, and Judge Gantry cut him off. No, Mr. Duffy would be spending his days and nights in jail as he awaited trial. Bail was not a possibility. Nance seemed to know this was coming. Everyone else did too. The lawyers went back and forth arguing about how much time they needed to prepare.
Theo whispered to Ike, “I thought you said Duffy wouldn’t be able to afford Nance this time around.”
Ike whispered, “Anything is possible. Everyone thinks Duffy is broke. Maybe he’s got some loot stashed away. Maybe Nance will work cheaper just so he can stay involved. Who knows?”
Ike often spouted off screwball theories with nothing to back them up. Theo suspected he spent too much time gossiping with his old retired buddies, all of whom were over the hill and prone to speculate about things without having any facts.
Theo was being careful. He was sitting low and ducking behind the person in front of him. He did not want to make eye contact with Pete Duffy. Sure the guy was in jail and should probably be considered harmless, but Theo wanted to keep his distance. They had looked each other in the eyes last Saturday at the airport in DC, and Duffy might remember. Of course, Theo was partially disguised then. He had discussed this with Ike, but Ike didn’t frighten too easily.
Then there was Omar Cheepe, a shady-looking character known to hang around Clifford Nance’s office and do his dirty work. He had a sidekick named Paco; just a couple of thugs.
When the hearing was over, Theo had two choices. He could hop on his bike and hustle back to school, or he could suggest having a frozen yogurt with Ike at Guff’s just down the street. He knew Ike would never say no, and that his uncle would happily buy the treat.
Theo ordered the usual — chocolate drenched with crushed Oreos. Ike had a small serving of mango with black coffee. “I have a question for you, Ike,” Theo said, then shoveled in an impressive spoonful of frozen yogurt.
“I’m sure you do,” Ike said. “You always have questions.”
“As I understand the way things work, before the trial, both sides will be required to give the other a list of their witnesses. Right?”
“Right. It’s called discovery. Not only the names of the witnesses, but brief summaries of what their testimony will be.”