A nervous silence followed, with no volunteers. Finally, Jarvis asked, “Is it true that the family has no money at all?”
Theo replied, “I don’t know. I’m sure Mrs. Lambert is trying to scrape together something, but I haven’t asked. That’s really none of my business. Woody’s stepfather is working out of town and doesn’t want to help.”
Chase asked, “Does Woody just stay in jail forever if he can’t make bail?”
“Not forever,” Theo replied. “Eventually, he’ll go to court to face the charges, maybe have a trial. If he’s found not guilty, he’ll be released. If he’s found guilty, I suppose they send him away.”
“Do you think he’s guilty, Theo?” asked Ricardo.
“No, he’s not guilty of armed robbery. We know Woody. He’d never do something as terrible as that. I’ve talked to him and he says it’s just one big misunderstanding. He may be guilty of underage drinking, but nothing else.”
Justin said, “I have a question, Theo. Suppose Woody can’t bail out and has to sit in jail until his trial. How long will that take?”
“You never know. It varies, even in Youth Court. I guess several months.”
“So, Woody sits in jail for months, flunks out of school, then goes to trial and let’s say he’s found not guilty. He goes home right, as if nothing happened? A clean record.”
“Right.”
“What about the time he just served? Does he get paid for that?”
“No, of course not. It’s just wasted time.”
“So what’s fair about this system?”
“Who said it was fair?”
“Well, you’re always talking about how great the court system is, how great the law is, how much you want to be a lawyer. That’s the last place I’d want to work.”
Mr. Mount said, “Okay, let’s get back to the issue at hand. While we’re having this discussion, your friend Woody is sitting in jail, and I’m sure he is not doing his homework.”
Chapter 10
Theo suffered through the rest of the day. During study hall, which was supervised by Mr. Mount, he was called to the principal’s office. Mrs. Gladwell had prepared written instructions allowing Theo to leave an hour early and go to the jail. She had discussed Woody’s situation with Judge Pendergrast and they had agreed that Theo could haul in the necessary textbooks and help his friend with his homework.
Theo knew that the last thing Woody would want to see in jail was a stack of textbooks, but he said nothing. He left the school at two p.m., an hour before final bell. With some time to spare, he detoured to the courthouse and went to the public defenders’ office on the third floor where he was greeted by the same grouchy secretary he’d encountered on Tuesday.
“I’d like to see Mr. Rodney Wall,” he asked without saying hello.
She stopped typing, frowned at him, and said, “It’s you again. Why aren’t you in school?”
“I’m excused and I have the paperwork to prove it.”
She lost interest immediately, nodded toward a closed door, and said, “He’s in there.”
Theo knocked on the door and a squeaky voice said, “Come in.”
Rodney Wall looked young enough to be a senior at Strattenburg High School. He was a small guy seated in an oversized chair that dwarfed him. He wore round glasses and a scruffy beard that was probably an effort to make up for his lack of hair. He made no effort to stand or greet his visitor.
“Can I help you?” he asked, but it was obvious that helping was not on his mind.
Theo walked to the edge of his cluttered desk and said, “Yes, I’m Theodore Boone, a friend of Woody Lambert, your client. I’d like to talk about his case.”
“Oh you would?”
“Yes.”
Wall arranged his hands so that his fingertips were touching. “Your mother is Marcella Boone.”
“Yes.”
“So is she planning to represent the Lambert boys?”
“No, she is not. She appeared this morning just to get bail set and try to get them out of jail.”
“Why is she sticking her nose into my business?”
“Because you weren’t there. I stopped by this place three times yesterday looking for you so we could talk about the case, and you were out of the office.”
“Sometimes that happens. Sometimes lawyers need to leave their office to go out and investigate. Why aren’t you in school?”
“I have an official pass from my principal, Mrs. Gladwell. Feel free to call her.”
“She sent you over here to my office to quiz me about my clients?” Behind his round glasses were two small eyes that glared at Theo without blinking. He did not stop tapping his fingertips together.
“No, she sent me to the jail to help Woody with his homework. I’m on my way there now.”
“I’ve heard about you, kid. You’re always hanging around the courthouse and bugging lawyers and judges and acting like you’re some kind of real lawyer. You show up in Animal Court all the time and take real cases, which anyone can do down there. Now you’re here poking around in my business.”
“Look, can we talk about Woody’s case? He’s one of my best friends and he is not guilty of armed robbery.”
“No. Both of your parents are lawyers, so you should know that a lawyer cannot discuss his client’s business with anyone else. It would be unethical for me to say anything about the case.”
Theo knew the guy was right, and he knew he shouldn’t be there sticking his nose in another lawyer’s business. But he wanted Mr. Wall to know that someone was watching, and so far that someone was not too impressed with the defense. Theo asked, “Have you met with your clients yet?”
Mr. Wall gave an exaggerated sigh as if greatly frustrated. “The answer is yes, and that’s the last answer I’m giving you. I met with Woody and Tony about three hours ago, and now I’m in the initial stages of writing a case report, which I will review with my supervisor and not with anyone else.”
“Do you believe they’re innocent?”
“Look, Mr. Theo, it’s time for you to leave. I have work to do. And I suppose you need to get down to the jail and help Woody with his homework.”
Theo backed away from the desk, mumbled a halfhearted “Thanks,” and left the office.
Instead of going to the jail, he headed north toward the edge of town, riding ten blocks or so until he came to a strip mall. Daisy Lambert worked thirty hours a week as a hairstylist and another thirty as a waitress. Theo had never been to her salon, never had a reason to visit, and he wasn’t sure he should barge right in. But the clock was ticking, in more ways than one, and now was not the time to be timid.
In the reception area, several women of all ages lounged around reading magazines with all manner of foils and rollers and clamps affixed to their hair. Beyond them two rows of chairs were filled with women getting worked on. In the rear, in the last chair, Theo saw Daisy lost in a pile of thick orange curls and clipping away. With blinders on, he walked straight toward her, ignoring everyone else along the way and said, “Hi, Mrs. Lambert, got a minute?”
Daisy was jolted at the sight of Theo in a place she would never expect him to be. “Well, sure, Theo,” she said, lowering her shears. “Excuse me one moment,” she whispered to her client. They stepped a few feet away and found privacy near the washing stations.
“Sorry to bother you,” Theo said in a voice as low as possible.
“Something wrong?” she asked, as if she expected everything to go wrong.
“No. I’ll just get right to the point. I know it’s rude to talk about money but right now that’s all we can talk about. I have four hundred dollars. Some of my buddies are willing to pitch in some more. I’m going to ask my parents for a loan, and maybe my uncle, Ike, too. So, how much do we need to raise?”