Mr. Nance said, “You know, Rodney, I started in the PD’s office thirty years ago. Back then we were in court every day, trying cases. The experience was incredible. How long you been there?”
“A year.”
“Monk’s a good man. You’ll learn a lot from him.”
“So far so good.”
Enough of the small talk. Mr. Nance cleared his throat as if it were time to move on. He was quite busy. “So, let’s talk about this case. The facts are straightforward. Three stupid kids riding around, drinking beer, nothing good was going to happen, right? But nobody got hurt. I mean, you know, it was only a water pistol, a toy. Garth, my client, still maintains that it belonged to the youngest boy—”
“Woody. Woody Lambert. Age thirteen.”
“Right. Woody and Tony, but I’m not sure that’s true.”
“It’s not,” Rodney said, exerting himself. “It’s not true at all. Neither Tony nor Woody had ever seen the pistol before.”
“Well, that’s what they say, and they are brothers, aren’t they?”
“They are, but they seem to be telling the truth.”
“No doubt. Look, Rodney, if we fight among ourselves, we all get hurt. I have a plan to get this case dismissed before the grand jury hands down an indictment against my client. Your clients, of course, are not facing indictment because they are minors. I believe I can convince Jack Hogan to cut us a deal and avoid serious charges for these boys. Of course, I’m deeply concerned about my client, Garth, because he is eighteen years old and is being treated like an adult. He’s not a bad kid, I assure you of that. Maybe a little immature, but he can outgrow that if he gets the right help. His parents are worried about his drinking and drugs, and he has agreed to submit himself to a treatment facility. This will be very important to Jack Hogan and Judge Gantry. The Tuckers are good people. Garth still plans to go to college. Can you imagine how a felony conviction will haunt him forever? No college. No job. No future.”
“How do you avoid a felony?” Rodney asked.
“Start with the gun. I don’t need to remind you how much Judge Gantry hates guns and violence. If we allow Woody, the thirteen-year-old, to claim ownership, then the gun loses some of its damage in circuit court. Sure Garth used it for the robbery. Sure that was a really dumb thing to do. But I’ll argue that he was not only drinking but already drunk, and thus wasn’t sure what he was doing. Woody produced the gun. All three boys were in on the robbery, all three need to be punished. But it’s imperative that we avoid a felony, here, Rodney. Are you with me?”
“I get that, but how do you convince Jack Hogan to reduce the armed robbery?”
“By begging. I’ll make a strong case that Garth is a good kid who was drunk, and that he was also misguided into believing you can’t pull a real robbery with a water pistol, and that nobody got hurt, and that he’s real sorry for his mistake, and he’ll agree to a few days in jail, two years of probation, a big fine, full restitution to the store, and a hundred hours of volunteer service. Anything to avoid the felony.”
“And what about my clients?”
“Come on, Rodney, they’re juveniles. Different laws down there in that court. Your boys will get off with a slap on the wrist, a little probation, but nothing serious. Plus they will not have a criminal record.”
“But they’re innocent, Mr. Nance.”
“Just call me Clifford. And they’re not completely innocent. They were riding around drinking beer and looking for trouble and they found it. As I understand things, the Lambert boys come from a rough home and they’re having trouble at school. This true?”
“That’s fair to say.”
“Okay, so we take all three boys and we spread around the blame a little. Woody says he owned the gun. He and his brother say they were in on the decision to snatch some beer. Everybody’s real sorry and all and they’ve learned a valuable lesson.”
“I’m not sure Woody and Tony will admit to anything except the beer. They have been pretty vocal in that they knew nothing about the robbery.”
“That’s where you come in, Rodney. That’s what defense lawyers are for. You’ve got to convince them that all three must stick together and stick to one story. Trust me on this. I’ve been doing this for over thirty years and I’m very good at what I do. I know the judges and the prosecutors and they know me.”
“Indeed they do.”
“There’s a way out of this for all three boys, Rodney. We just need to use a bit of creative storytelling, let each boy take a bite of the blame, and everybody gets out in one piece.”
Rodney took a sip of coffee and a deep breath. Clifford Nance was very persuasive but Rodney really didn’t appreciate being pressured by another lawyer. Not like this.
Rodney asked, “What makes you so sure you can convince Jack Hogan to reduce the armed robbery to a misdemeanor?”
Clifford offered a smug smile as if he knew everything. “Jack and I go way back. We’ve squared off in the courtroom many times. Murder trials, drug trials, you name it. We have great respect for each other, respect that has been earned. This is not a serious case, Rodney. This is the story of three boys out joyriding and doing something stupid. Again, nobody got hurt. I know Jack and I know I can convince him to back off and do Garth a favor. The Tuckers are nice people, unlike most of the criminal defendants Jack prosecutes. We just need for you to convince your clients to go along with our plan.”
“It’s not going to be easy.”
“Do you really believe that Woody and Tony had no idea what Garth was up to?”
“I’m not so sure about that. I’ve always had my doubts about their stories.”
“Now you’re talking, Rodney. I have doubts, too. I would bet good money that those boys ran out of beer and talked about stealing some more. And I’ll bet that the judge will think so, too.”
“Okay, I’ll talk to my clients. I’m sure this will take several conversations.”
“Well, let’s hurry along. I’d like to cut a deal with Hogan before the grand jury gets the case.”
Nance smiled properly and stood. Conversation over. He walked Rodney to the door, paused, and rubbed his chin. “Say, Rodney, how long do you plan to work for Monk?”
“Oh, I don’t know, a couple of years maybe.”
“Then what?”
“I’d like to go into private practice, join a nice law firm, and specialize in criminal defense. I love the courtroom and can see a career there.”
“That’s what I did and I have no regrets. One day soon, after this case is over, let’s have a conversation about your future. I’m always looking for young talent. We have seven lawyers now and need at least two more.”
“I would really enjoy that conversation, Mr. Nance.”
“It’s Clifford.”
Chapter 21
On a cold, rainy afternoon, Theo was at his desk in his little office in the rear of Boone & Boone, and instead of doing his boring homework he was kicked back in his old hand-me-down swivel office chair watching the rain splatter against his window. Judge snored under his desk, inches from Theo’s sneakers. At times the rain fell hard and the wind whistled against the roof. Then it slacked off and almost quit. He had been studying the rain and the wind for some time because his Geometry was particularly boring, they were suffering through polygons; and his Chemistry was quite dull, they were memorizing compounds; and, well, nothing at the moment offered any excitement. So he was doing what he often did at the age of thirteen — thinking about life and wondering what it would be like in a few short years when he was grown and driving and dealing with high school issues. He even had a thought or two about college, but couldn’t imagine the day when he was forced to leave home and go out into the world without his parents and his dog. He had already done a bit of research online and had yet to find a college that allowed its freshmen to bring their dogs to school.