every police station in the country. It will be difficult to avoid capture, but there have been some famous cases of fugitives who are never caught. They usually get out of the country and go to South America or some place. I’m surprised. I didn’t think Pete Duffy had the guts to make a run for it.”
“Guts?”
“Sure. Think about it, Theo. The guy killed his wife and got lucky when the first trial ended in a mistrial. He knew that would not happen again, so he was looking at a lifetime in prison. Me, I’d rather take my chances on the run. He’s probably buried some money somewhere. Got himself some new papers, a new name, maybe a pal who’s helping. Knowing Duffy, he’s probably got some young woman hooked into his scheme. Pretty smart move if you ask me.”
Ike made it sound like a real adventure, but Theo wasn’t so sure. As the clock approached 10:00 a.m., he gazed at the empty chair where the defendant was supposed to be and found it impossible to believe that Pete Duffy had jumped bond, skipped town, and was now prepared to live the life of a fugitive.
Omar Cheepe and Paco reappeared and huddled with Clifford Nance. From the way they shook their heads, whispered urgently, and exchanged hard looks, it was obvious the situation had not improved. Pete Duffy was nowhere to be found.
A bailiff rounded up the lawyers and herded them into Judge Gantry’s chambers for another meeting. Several deputies were telling jokes near the jury box. The noise level was rising as the crowd grew restless and frustrated.
“I’m getting kind of bored, Theo,” Ike said. A few others had left the courtroom.
“I might hang around,” Theo said. His only other option was to return to school, empty-handed, and suffer through classes. The release from the principal plainly stated that Theo was excused from school until 1:00 p.m., and he did not want to return any sooner, trial or no trial.
“Are you stopping by this afternoon?” Ike asked. It was a Monday, and the Boone family rituals required Theo to stop by Ike’s office every Monday afternoon for a visit.
“Sure,” Theo said.
Ike smiled and said, “See you then.”
After he was gone, Theo weighed the pros and cons of the situation. He was disappointed that the biggest criminal trial in the recent history of Strattenburg had evidently been sidetracked, and that he would not get the chance to watch Jack Hogan and Clifford Nance go toe-to-toe like two gladiators. But, he was also relieved that Bobby Escobar would not be forced to testify and point the finger of guilt at Pete Duffy. Theo had played a big role in bringing Bobby to the attention of Judge Gantry during the first trial, and Theo knew that Duffy’s lawyers and his thugs, especially Omar Cheepe and Paco, were keeping an eye on him. Theo preferred not to have the attention.
In fact, as the clock ticked and the crowd waited, Theo decided that the sudden disappearance of Pete Duffy was a good thing, at least for him. Selfishly, he was pleased.
Two men behind Theo were having a disagreement. In low voices, they were arguing over the fact that Duffy had been allowed to post a bond. The first man said: “I’ll bet Gantry takes some heat for this. If he had denied bail, Duffy would have been locked up while he waited for his trial, the same as every other defendant charged with murder. No one gets bail in a murder case. Gantry caved in because Duffy has money.”
The second man said: “I doubt it. Why not allow a defendant to post bail and get out? He’s innocent until proven guilty, right? Why lock up a guy before he’s convicted? Murder or otherwise? You can’t punish a guy just because he has money. Duffy’s bail was a million dollars. He put up some property and nobody complained, until now, anyway.”
Theo tended to side with the second guy. The first one responded: “Until now? That’s the whole point. Bail is supposed to secure his appearance in court. Guess what? He’s not here. AWOL, flew the coop, over the wall, we’ll never see him again because Gantry granted bail.”
“They’ll find him.”
“I’ll bet they don’t. He’s probably in Mexico City right now, getting his face worked on by some plastic surgeons who got rich re-doing the eyes and noses of drug lords. I’ll bet they never find Pete Duffy.”
“I’ll bet you twenty bucks he’s back here in thirty days, in jail.”
“You got it, twenty bucks.”
There was a rustle of activity and the bailiffs sprang to attention. The lawyers streamed out of Judge Gantry’s chambers and took their places. The spectators scurried for their seats and became silent. “Remain seated,” a bailiff barked. Judge Gantry assumed his position on the bench. He rapped his gavel loudly and said, “Order. Bring in the jury, please.”
It was 11:00 a.m. The jurors filed into the courtroom and took their seats in the jury box. When they were in place, Judge Gantry looked sternly at Clifford Nance and said, “Mr. Nance, where is the defendant?”
Nance rose slowly and replied, “Your Honor, I do not know. We have had no contact with Mr. Duffy since ten thirty last night.”
Judge Gantry looked at Jack Hogan and said, “Mr. Hogan.”
“Your Honor, we have no choice but to move for a mistrial.”
“And I have no choice but to grant one.” Judge Gantry then turned and addressed the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, it appears as though the defendant, Mr. Peter Duffy, has disappeared. He has been free on bond, awaiting this trial, and, well, he has evidently vanished. The sheriff’s department is conducting a search and the FBI has been notified. Without a defendant, we cannot proceed at this time. I apologize for the inconvenience, and, once again, I thank you for your willingness to serve. You are dismissed.”
One of the jurors slowly raised her hand and asked, “But, Judge, what if they find him this afternoon, or tomorrow?”
Judge Gantry seemed surprised by a question coming from the jury box. “Well, I suppose it depends on how he is found. Let’s say they catch him at a border, trying to sneak out of the country, then he’ll be brought back here to face additional charges. That would certainly affect his strategy at trial, so he would be entitled to a delay. But let’s suppose he’s found somewhere around here and has a valid excuse for not showing up this morning. In that case, I would revoke his bond, or bail, put him in jail, and reschedule the trial as soon as possible.”
This satisfied the juror and Theo as well.
“Court is adjourned,” Judge Gantry said, and pecked his gavel once again.
Theo waited and waited, and finally left when a bailiff was turning off the lights. He had no place to go but school, and he biked in that general direction. Two blocks away from the courthouse, a black Jeep Cherokee eased alongside Theo. Its passenger window came down, and Paco’s swarthy head leaned out. He smiled but said nothing.
Theo braked and they passed. Why would they be following him?
He was rattled and made the quick decision to duck through an alley and cross a backyard. He was half looking over his shoulder when a large man stepped in front of him and grabbed the handlebars of his bike. “Hey, kid!” he growled, now face-to-face with Theo.
It was Buck Baloney, breathing fire and ready for war. “Stay outta my yard, okay?” he growled, still gripping the handlebars.
“Okay, okay, sorry,” Theo said, afraid of getting slapped.
“What’s your name?” Buck hissed.
“Theodore Boone. Let go of my bike.”
Buck was dressed in an ill-fitting and cheap uniform with the words A ll — P ro S ecurity stitched on the sleeves. And, he had a rather large pistol on his belt.
“Stop cutting across my yard, you understand?”
“I got it,” Theo said.
Buck let go, and Theo sped away without getting shot. Suddenly, he was excited about returning to school, and to the safety of his classroom.
Chapter 3
