If they only knew.
Theo said, “This is where my dad comes every morning for breakfast. He sits over there at that round table with a bunch of old guys and they eat toast and drink coffee and catch up on the gossip. Sounds pretty boring, doesn’t it?”
“I once did that, Theo, many years ago, at that same table,” Ike said sadly, as if he remembered a time that was far more pleasant. “But I don’t miss it. Now it’s more fun hanging out in bars late at night and playing poker with shady characters. The gossip is much better.”
Theo ordered an orange juice and they killed more time. At one thirty, his phone vibrated. It was a text from Judge Gantry: Theo, heard anything?
No, sorry.
Be here in 15 minutes.
Yes, sir.
“That was Judge Gantry,” Theo said. “He wants me back in his chambers in fifteen minutes. You see, Ike, he needs my help to decide this very important matter. He realizes how brilliant I am and how much of the law I know, and he has decided to lean on me during this crucial moment.”
“Thought he was smarter than that.”
“He’s a genius, Ike. It takes one to know one.”
“So how would you rule in this matter?”
“I would explain everything to the jury, proceed with the trial, and hope the prosecution has enough evidence to convict Duffy.”
“The prosecution doesn’t have enough evidence. We saw that during the first trial. And if you don’t declare a mistrial now, and if there’s a conviction, it’ll just be thrown out on appeal. You wouldn’t make a very good judge.”
“Thanks, Ike. What would you do?”
“He has no choice but to declare a mistrial. That’s what I’d do. Then, I’d tell the police to give us the reward money.”
“You told me to forget about the money.”
“Right.”
At one forty-five, Theo followed Mrs. Hardy into Judge Gantry’s chambers. She closed the door and left. Theo took a seat and waited while the judge finished a phone conversation. He looked tired and frustrated. A half-eaten sandwich was on a napkin in the center of his desk, next to an empty bottle of water. Theo realized that Judge Gantry didn’t have the luxury of stepping out for lunch. Some clown would surely ask about the trial.
He hung up and said, “That was the sheriff over in Weeksburg, a guy I know pretty well. No sign of our friend.”
“He’s gone, Judge. Bobby lives in the shadows, like a lot of undocumented workers. He knows how to disappear.”
“I thought your parents were trying to sponsor him and speed along his citizenship requirements. What happened?”
“Not sure, but I think the paperwork got backed up in Washington. They’re still trying, but things are moving real slow. Now, I guess it doesn’t matter. His mother is sick in El Salvador and he’s going home.”
“Well, he sure screwed up this case.”
“Judge, I have a question. During the first trial, when Bobby finally came forward, you declared a mistrial. The following week, Bobby went to Jack Hogan’s office and gave a formal statement. They used some ace translator, someone who does the Spanish in trials, and everything was recorded by a court reporter, right?”
“That’s correct.”
“So why can’t that statement be read to the jury? That way, they’ll hear everything Bobby has to say and we can finish the trial.”
Judge Gantry smiled and said, “It’s not that easy, Theo. Keep in mind that when you’re accused of a crime you have the right to face your accusers, to cross-examine those who testify against you. Pete Duffy didn’t have that chance because his lawyers were not in the room when Bobby gave his statement. If I allowed his statement into evidence now, that too would be grounds for a reversal on appeal.”
“I guess it takes guts to be fair, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, you could say that.” Judge Gantry looked at his watch, frowned, tapped his fingers on his desk as if he were in no hurry, and said, “Well, Theo, I guess it’s time. You want to stay here or go back to class?”
“I’ll stay.”
“Figures.” He pointed to the same chair in the same corner and Theo reassumed his position. Judge Gantry punched a button on his phone and said, “Mrs. Hardy, send in the lawyers.” The door flew open and the room was soon crowded as they all gathered around the table. When the court reporter was ready, Judge Gantry said, “It is now two p.m. and the search for Bobby Escobar has been called off. The court has before it a defense motion for a mistrial. Anything further, Mr. Hogan?”
Jack Hogan reluctantly said, “No, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Nance?”
“No, sir.”
“All right.” Judge Gantry took a deep breath and said, “I’m afraid I have no choice in this matter. It would be unfair to the defendant to proceed without the testimony of one Bobby Escobar.”
From his pocket, Theo’s phone vibrated. He grabbed it, looked at it, and almost fainted. It was Bobby. He blurted, “Hang on, Judge!”
Chapter 23
Pursuant to Bobby’s request, Judge Gantry, Theo, and the translator drove five minutes to Truman Park and waited by the carousel. When they were in place, he stepped from behind a row of giant boxwoods and walked to meet them. His boots had mud caked on them. His jeans were dirty. His eyes were red and he looked tired. In Spanish he said, “I’m sorry about this, but I’m frightened and not sure what to do.”
The translator, a young lady named Maria, passed it along in English.
Judge Gantry said, “Bobby, nothing has changed since the last time we talked several months ago. You are an important witness and we need you to tell the court what you saw.”
Maria raised a hand — “Not so fast. Short sentences please.” She handled the Spanish, and Judge Gantry continued: “You will not be arrested or harmed in any way, I promise. Just the opposite. I’ll make sure you are protected.”
English to Spanish, and Bobby managed a quick smile.
News that the witness had been found roared through the courthouse and the downtown law offices. At three p.m., an even larger crowd gathered. Theo and Ike had prime seats two rows behind the prosecution, where they were joined by Woods Boone, who had somehow managed to pull himself away from the urgent business on his desk. As Theo looked around, he noticed a lot of the town’s lawyers jockeying for seats.
Pete Duffy was brought in and sat at his table. He looked pale and confused. He chatted with Clifford Nance, who was obviously upset and animated. Gone was the smug confidence Theo had seen only an hour before.
The bailiff called the court to order and it took a few seconds for the mob to settle in. All seats were taken and people lined the walls around the courtroom. Judge Gantry assumed the bench and instructed a bailiff to bring in the jurors. When they were seated, he looked at them and began an explanation: “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I apologize for the delay. I know it’s frustrating to sit around for hours waiting for the lawyers and me to resolve matters, but that’s what usually happens in a trial. At any rate, we are now ready to proceed. The State will call one more witness, a Mr. Bobby Escobar, who does not speak English. Therefore, we will be using a court certified translator. Her name is Maria Oliva — I’ve used her before and she is very good — and she will be sworn to tell the truth, just like the witness. It’s sort of an awkward way to receive testimony, but we have no choice. I read an article one time about a federal court in New York where they have certified translators for over thirty languages. I guess we’re lucky here; we just deal with two. At any rate, the testimony will be a bit slower, and we’re not going to rush. I ask you to pay close attention and be patient. Are the lawyers ready to proceed?”