The Accused

by John Grisham

  caught the thief, Theodore Boone, and that they found three Linx 0-4 Tablets in your locker. I guess the guy’s got a big mouth.”

  Theo’s shoulders sunk and he looked out a window. “I guess he does.”

  “You wanna hear something strange? My sister Amy is in the tenth grade and she knows a guy named Benny. He’s not a boyfriend or anything like that, just a friend. This guy Benny knows a guy named Gordy, and, according to Gordy, some guy offered to sell him an 0-4 Tablet for fifty dollars a couple of days ago at school, in the parking lot. Brand new, still in the box. Those things cost four hundred dollars, and this guy is trying to sell one for fifty. You gotta figure it’s stolen, right?”

  “Right,” Theo said, suddenly staring at Griff. “What’s his name?”

  “I don’t know, but I can probably find out. How many of the 0-4s were stolen?”

  “I’m not sure, but I think more than three, along with some laptops and cell phones.”

  “Why would someone plant the stuff in your locker and then call the police?”

  “That’s the key question here, Griff, the one we’re trying to answer. Look, there can’t be too many stolen 0-4s on the black market out there. We need to get the name of the guy who’s trying to sell them. And the sooner the better. Can you talk to your sister?”

  “Sure I can.”

  “Please do it, Griff. And hurry.”

  Griff hustled away and Theo returned to his office. The suspension was really getting old.

  At 3:45, his mother gave him permission to leave the office for personal reasons. Theo said good-bye to Judge and sped away on his bike. School was out, for the day and for the week, and other kids were loose on the streets of Strattenburg, ready to play and enjoy the short break. Theo was happy that the week was over. It had begun Monday with a slashed front tire and plunged straight downhill from there. He was also worried, and for obvious reasons. If he didn’t find out who was after him, and quickly, the upcoming week could be even worse.

  Major Ludwig was waiting in the basement of the VFW building, the home of Boy Scout Troop 1440. The meeting was scheduled to begin at 4:00 p.m. sharp, but the Major expected his scouts to arrive at least five minutes early. He despised tardiness and was known to bark and growl if you showed up late for anything. Theo arrived at 3:57. Brian and Edward, two friends from Mr. Mount’s homeroom, were there, along with Sam, Isaac, and Bart, three seventh graders. All six Scouts had signed on for the Aviation merit badge, and Major Ludwig would be their counselor. He had flown fighter jets in the Marines and now worked part-time as a flight instructor at the city airport.

  At first, Theo was a little awkward around Brian and Edward, his classmates. He wasn’t sure if he should feel embarrassed, or proud. How much gossip was making the rounds at school in his absence? Plenty, he figured. The Major sensed the unease and wasted no time in discussing his plans.

  “This is going to be very exciting,” he began. “I’ve been flying for almost forty years, and I have loved every minute of it. We are going to study airplanes—piston engines, turboprops, and jets. We’re going to build a model airplane, powered by batteries and able to climb to an altitude of two hundred feet. This will teach you the principles of flight—airspeed, lift, drag, aerodynamics—as well as the control surfaces—the ailerons, elevators, and rudder. You will learn how to read an aeronautical chart and plot a course for a real flight, a flight you will make using some really cool simulator software. We will visit the airport here in Strattenburg, look at various airplanes, then climb up into the tower and watch the air traffic controller as he directs traffic. There’s not a lot of traffic here, but it will still be interesting to see how a controller handles things. Then, last but not least, when you’ve learned all the basics, we’ll go for a real flight. With your parents’ permission, I’ll take you up two at a time in my little Cessna. We’ll climb to about five thousand feet, and I’ll let you handle the airplane. I’ll keep my hands on the controls at all times, but you’ll get a real good feel for the airplane. We’ll do turns, climbs, and descents. We’ll pick a beautiful day so you’ll have a perfect bird’s-eye view of where we live and the land around us. How about it, men? Sound like fun?”

  The six boys were in a trance, thoroughly engrossed in their upcoming adventure. All six nodded eagerly. For the moment, Theo forgot about his problems. The Major handed out Aviation merit badge booklets and outlined the assignment for their meeting next Friday, then he picked up a large model airplane, the same one he used for real instruction, and began describing its various parts.

  Theo, ever the dreamer, began thinking of how cool it would be to fly airplanes—fighter jets and 747s. What a great life—first the adventure of dogfights high above the battlefield, then traveling the world as the captain of a luxury commercial airliner. He had always wanted to be a lawyer, but right now the law had lost some of its appeal. Being a pilot seemed far more exciting.

  At 5:00 p.m. sharp, the Major said the meeting was over. When they gathered for the next meeting, he expected all assignments to be in perfect order. As the Scouts said their good-byes, he waited until they were almost out of the door when he said, “Say, Theo, could I have a word with you?”

  “Sure, Major,” Theo said. The other Scouts got on their bikes and left. Theo and the Major stood near the door.

  “None of my business,” the Major said, “but I hear things are not going too well, some kind of problem with the police involving a burglary. I’m not being nosy, Theo, I’m just concerned.”

  Theo nodded and for a second thought it would be wiser to reveal nothing. However, with his face plastered all over the Internet, his name linked to the crime, and his guilt already determined, it seemed silly acting as though he couldn’t talk about it. “Yes, sir,” he said. “It looks like I’m the number one suspect.”

  “So you’ve met with the police?”

  “Several times.” In fact, Theo could not remember how many times. “They don’t believe me, and they seem determined to charge me with the crime.”

  “That’s absurd, Theo.”

  “I sure think so.”

  “Look, Theo, I do some volunteer work in Youth Court. If a kid in trouble needs a volunteer, someone to listen to him and give him advice, the Court will appoint me to lend a hand. The kid has a lawyer, of course, but you know how busy lawyers are. I work with the lawyer to do what’s best for the kid. My point is that I know both of the Youth Court judges very well. I’ll be happy to get involved on your behalf if you would like, not as a volunteer because you don’t need one, but as someone who can talk to the judges off the record. The idea of accusing you of a burglary is ridiculous.”

  Theo felt himself getting choked up, but managed to say, “Thanks, Major.”

  “I know you’re innocent, Theo, and I’ll do everything I can to help.”

  “Thanks,” Theo said, trying to hide his emotions.

  Chapter 18

  The Major shook hands with Theo, gave him a pat on the back, and closed the door behind him. When Theo was outside he walked to his bike and got on it. He pushed off, felt something strange, and realized his front tire was flat.

  A sharp pain hit low in his stomach, and Theo wasn’t sure if it was anger or fear, or both. He looked around to see if anyone was watching, then he stared at the tire and thought about what he should do next. Nothing came to mind. He was so angry and confused his brain was a jumbled mess. Slowly, he got off his bike and looked at the front tire. The small gash looked familiar.

  He decided not to bother the Major, so he began pushing his bike through the parking lot of the VFW and onto the sidewalk. The more he walked, the clearer he could think. How many people knew he would be at a merit badge meeting on Friday afternoon at 4:00 p.m.? He suddenly had five suspects—the other Scouts. Brian and Edward from his homeroom, and Bart, Isaac, and Sam from the seventh grade. They had parked their bikes in the same rack Theo had parked his, and when his departure was delayed by the Major, there was the sp
lit-second opportunity for one of them to stick a knife in his front tire.

  The law office was about ten blocks away, and Theo was tired. He called his father’s cell phone, and, surprisingly, he answered. Woods Boone despised his cell phone and usually ignored it.

  “Dad, it’s me,” Theo said.

  “Yes, Theo, I can read the words on my little screen here. What’s up?”

  “My front tire has been slashed again. Flat as a pancake. It happened outside the VFW while I was meeting with the Major.”

  “Where are you?”

  “On Bennington Street, near Fourteenth.”

  “Stay where you are. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  Theo sat on a bus bench with his disabled bike nearby, and thought about Brian and Edward. Both were nice kids from good families. Both had lockers very close to Theo’s, and neither had a reason to slash his tires, throw rocks through his window, break into a computer store, or plant stolen loot in his locker. Theo considered both of them to be friends. He did not know the seventh graders as well, though every Scout in the troop got along just fine. The Major insisted on it. Sam’s father was a doctor and his mother was a dentist. Theo could not imagine him behaving like a hoodlum. Bart was a straight A student and perhaps the nicest kid in the world. Of the five, the only real suspect could be Isaac Scheer, a quiet kid who seemed moody, often troubled, and who wore his hair a bit too long and listened to heavy metal. The Scheer family had issues. An older sister had been arrested for drugs. The father was usually unemployed and rumored to prefer living off his wife’s income.

  Most importantly, Isaac had an older brother in high school. Since the Boone detective team believed the attacks on Theo were the work of at least two people, Isaac and his brother fit in nicely. As always, though, when picking suspects, Theo was stopped cold by the question of motive. Why would Isaac and his brother, or anyone else for that matter, go to such trouble to ruin his life? It made no sense.

  Mr. Boone arrived in his SUV. He opened the rear hatch, lifted Theo’s bike, and shoved it inside, on top of his golf clubs. Judge, who had arrived riding shotgun, was demoted to the backseat. Theo sat in the front, arms crossed, eyes fixed straight ahead as they drove away. Nothing was said until Theo realized they were not headed in the direction of the Boone home. “Where are we going, Dad?” he asked.

  “To the police station.”

  “Okay. Why?”

  “Because I want the detectives to see firsthand what we’ve been telling them. Someone is stalking you and trying to frame you for a crime you did not commit.”

  Theo liked the idea. They parked on the street next to the police station. “Wait here,” Mr. Boone said, and he slammed his door and marched into the building. Minutes passed as Theo talked to Judge and explained what was happening. Judge seemed to be confused. Detective Vorman appeared with Mr. Boone, who popped the hatch and slid the bike onto the rear bumper. Theo got out of the SUV and walked around to join the conversation.

  “Look at this,” Mr. Boone said firmly as he lifted the front tire and pointed to the hole in the sidewall. “This is the third one this week.”

  Vorman looked closer, touched the tire, and said, “It’s definitely a deliberate puncture.”

  “It certainly is,” Mr. Boone replied.

  “And where did this happen?” Vorman asked.

  “Outside the VFW, same place the rear tire was punctured last Tuesday,” Theo said.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” Vorman asked.

  Mr. Boone shoved the bike back into the SUV and slammed the hatch. “You’re supposed to realize that whoever is slashing these bike tires and throwing rocks through our office windows is the same person who is trying to frame my son for the burglary. That’s what you’re supposed to do with this. You’re supposed to realize you’re wasting your time investigating, and accusing, Theo of a crime.”

  Go get him, Dad, Theo almost said.

  “How can you be so sure these crimes are related?” Vorman asked with his usual sneer.

  “I guarantee you they’re related, and until you understand that they are, you’re not going to figure out who broke into the computer store. While you waste your time, though, lay off my son. He’s not guilty.”

  “Of course he’s not, but you’re the father, right?” Vorman said, his voice rising, his irritation apparent. “I wish I had a dollar for every mother and father who’ve sworn to me that their precious loved ones were innocent. We’ll handle the investigation, Mr. Boone, with no help from you. And, as of now, and until we find something to the contrary, your son is still the leading suspect. All evidence points to him.” Vorman pointed an angry finger at Theo, then turned and walked away.

  Theo felt worse as they drove away, and he assumed his father did, too. Gil’s Wheels was closed, so they headed home.

  “Are you playing golf tomorrow?” Mr. Boone asked.

  “Sure,” Theo said with no enthusiasm.

  “It’s supposed to rain.”

  “I’m sure it will.” Why not end a bad week with a heavy rain and a washed-out golf game?

  Friday dinner was usually a trip to Malouf’s, a Lebanese restaurant with great seafood, but neither Theo nor his parents were in the mood. They were tired from a long and quite unusual week. The constant anxiety was taking a toll on their moods. For three days now, Theo had thought of little else but being falsely accused, and arrested, and maybe sent to a prison facility for kids. He knew his parents were far more worried than they appeared. The latest tire slashing had rattled their nerves even more.

  After a sandwich and a bowl of soup, Theo excused himself and went to his room. Ike had texted him three times during the afternoon, wanting to know if Theo had obtained the password to the law firm’s digital file storage system. Theo had not answered the texts because he could not force himself to violate the firm’s unwritten rules. Lifting the password from Vince’s computer was a dishonest act, one that weighed heavy on Theo. Giving the password to Ike would only make the guilt worse. On the other hand, though, Theo was tired of running and tired of being the target of someone’s carefully plotted conspiracy. It was time to fight back. The police seemed determined to nail him. The clock was ticking; time was against him. Before long the situation could get worse.

  He called Ike, who was still at the office.

  “It’s about time,” Ike said, irritated. “Did you get the password?”

  “Yes, I did, but you gotta convince me, Ike, that this is the right thing to do.”

  “I’ve already told you that, Theo. We’re not breaking any laws here. We’re just snooping, that’s all. Look at it this way, Theo. You can walk through the offices of Boone & Boone and see files everywhere, right?”

  “Right.”

  “It’s a law office. There are files on desks, files stacked neatly in cabinets, files left behind in the conference room, files in open briefcases, piles of files waiting to be stored away. Files, files, everywhere files. Now, Theo, have you ever picked up one of these files and flipped through it?”

  A slight hesitation, then Theo said, “Yes.”

  “Of course you have, and you didn’t break any law. You didn’t violate any ethical rule because you’re not yet a lawyer. You were just being nosy, that’s all. Just snooping a little. That’s all we’re doing here, Theo, snooping. Some of the law firm’s files are now stored in a digital vault, available to members of the firm for easier access. These same files exist in hard folders throughout the firm, the same kind of file you’ve peeked at before.”

  “I understand that, Ike, but it just doesn’t seem right.”

  Ike breathed heavily into the phone, and Theo braced for a sharp rebuke. Instead, Ike calmly said, “I’m trying to help you here, Theo. Look at it like this. The information we’re after will be kept between the two of us. We’re not going to share client secrets with anyone. The privacy of the clients will not be violated in any way. We’re just trying to solve a mystery, and if we’re able to do
so, no one will ever know that we’ve been snooping.”

  “But if you access the digital vault there will be a record of your entry.”

  “Don’t worry about that, Theo. I’ll use an encrypted code that cannot be traced. I’m a step ahead of you on this. I’m not your typical low-tech geezer, Theo.”

  “I didn’t say you were.”

  “And, I’ll bet the entry log is checked about once a year, right?”

  “Probably.”

  “Give me the password, Theo.”

  “It’s Avalanche88TeeBone33.”

  “Spell it.”

  Theo slowly spelled it, then gave him the account code.

  “Smart move, Theo. I’ll get to work.”

  Theo stretched out on his bed and stared at the ceiling. Ike was a smart man who’d once been a brilliant lawyer, but he often had strange ideas. His theory that Theo’s problems were being caused by one of his mother’s nasty divorces was pretty far-fetched. But, at least he had a theory. Theo was dwelling on Isaac Scheer, and the more he thought about him the less he was convinced the kid could be a real suspect.

  Theo texted Griff: Any luck finding the name of the guy selling 0-4s?

  He waited for ten minutes, then turned off his phone.

  Chapter 19

  Saturday morning, Theo awoke to the sounds of heavy thunder and raindrops pecking at his window. He slowly crawled out of bed and peeked through the curtains. Water was standing in puddles in the backyard. No golf today. Judge followed him downstairs where his parents were busy in the kitchen cooking pancakes and sausage and talking, of course, about the weather. Theo would never understand why adults spent so much time on the subject of the weather. They couldn’t change it.

  The town was buzzing with the news that Pete Duffy had been spotted at O’Hare International Airport in Chicago. He had tried to pay cash for a one-way ticket on a flight to Mexico City, but was delayed when the clerk noticed something odd about his fake passport. The clerk notified her supervisor. At that point, Duffy fled the ticket counter and disappeared into a crowd. The FBI identified him by lifting a fingerprint from the passport, and by analyzing video footage. There was a photo of Duffy on the front page of the Strattenburg newspaper, and he was not recognizable, at least in Theo’s opinion. He was wearing some type of beret, thick-framed eyeglasses, the makings of a beard, and his hair was blond, almost white.

  “The FBI has this technology that can enhance a photo of a person’s face and see things not visible to the naked eye,” Mr. Boone was explaining as if he knew a great deal about FBI techniques. Theo was at the table, eating pancakes, feeding some to Judge, staring at the black-and-white photo of Pete Duffy, and giving thanks that the man was back in the news. Maybe the town would spend a few days rekindling its interest in Pete Duffy and forget about that other criminal—Theo Boone.

  “I wonder where he’s been all week?” Mrs. Boone asked as she sipped her coffee and read the obituaries.

  “Working on his new look, I guess,” replied Mr. Boone. “Doing his hair, grooming his beard. A beret? Give me a break. A guy walking through O’Hare wearing a beret is bound to attract attention.”

  “It sure doesn’t look like Pete Duffy,” Theo said.

  “It’s him,” Mr. Boone said with certainty. “He’s changed his looks, got some cash, bought him some new papers, though they must not be very good, and he almost got away.”

  “I’d like to get away,” Theo said.

  “Theo,” Mrs. Boone said.

  “It’s true, Mom. I’d like to bolt out of here and go hide someplace.”

  “Things are gonna be okay, Theo,” Mr. Boone said.

  “Oh really? How do you figure that? I have the cops breathing down my neck, ready to haul me into Youth Court. And I have some crazy stalker chasing me all over town with a knife, ready to slash my tires again. Sure, Dad, things are really looking great.”

  “Relax, Theo. You’re innocent and you will be proven innocent.”

  “Okay, Dad, here’s the question. Do you think the person who robbed Big Mac’s is the same person who’s slashing tires, throwing rocks, and spreading all the garbage on the Internet?”

  Mr. Boone chewed on a bite of sausage for a few seconds, then said, “I do.”

  “Mom?”

  “I believe so.”

  “That makes three of us. To me it’s pretty obvious. So why can’t we convince the police of this?”

  “I think we can, Theo,” Mr. Boone said. “They’re still investigating the break-in and burglary. I trust the police and I think they’ll catch the criminals.”

  “Well, I think they’ve already decided it’s me. That guy Vorman thinks I’m lying. I don’t like him. He gives me the creeps.”

  “Things will be fine, Theo,” Mrs. Boone said, patting his arm, then Theo saw her glance at his father. They held each other’s gaze for a second or so, and it was not a look of confidence. They were as worried as Theo, maybe more.

  After breakfast, Theo and his dad drove to Gil’s Wheels for yet another new tire. At Mr. Boone’s request, Gil disappeared into the rear of his store and found the first two damaged tires. He gave them to Mr. Boone, who now had a collection of three. Mr. Boone paid for numbers two and three, and paid the eight dollars Theo owed on the first tire. Gil assured them that there was no epidemic of tire slashings in town; in fact, he had seen only three the entire week, all of which belonged to Theo.

  Outside the bike shop, the rain had stopped, but the skies were still cloudy and threatening. For a moment, Theo and his father talked about driving to the golf course and waiting on the weather. The course, though, would be soaked, and if it was opened later in the morning there would be a crowd. Theo knew that a crowded golf course was worse than no course at all. They agreed that it was not a good idea.