John Grisham: The abduction

“I know, Judge, and I understand. But, please don’t take her away.” He wiped his eyes again and went silent. St. Nick waited, then turned to the other side of the room and said, “And you?”

May Finnemore had a tissue in both hands and looked as though she’d been crying for days. She mumbled and stammered before finding her voice. “It’s not a great home, Judge; I guess that much is obvious. But it’s our home; it’s April’s home. Her room is there, her clothes and books and things. Maybe her parents are not always there, but we’ll do better. You can’t take April out of her home and put her with strangers. Please don’t do that.”

“And your plans, Mrs. Finnemore? More of the same, or are you willing to change your ways?”

May Finnemore pulled papers out of a file and gave them to the bailiff, who in turn handed each one to the judge, Mr. Finnemore, and Mrs. Boone. “This is a letter from my therapist. He explains that I’m under his care now and that he is optimistic about my improvement.”

Everyone read the letter. Though couched in medical terms, the bottom line was that May had emotional problems, and to deal with them she had gotten herself mixed up with various and unnamed prescription drugs. She continued, “He has enrolled me in a rehab program as an outpatient. I’m tested every morning at eight a.m.”

“When did you start this program?” St. Nick asked.

“Last week. I went to see the therapist after April disappeared. I’m much better already, I promise, Your Honor.”

St. Nick put the letter down and looked at April. “I’d like to hear from you,” he said with a warm smile. “What are your thoughts, April? What do you want?”

In a voice much stronger than either parent, April began, “Well, Judge, what I want is something that’s impossible. I want what every kid wants-a normal home and a normal family. But that is not what I have. We don’t do normal, and I’ve learned to live with that. My brother and sister learned to live with it. They left home as soon as possible, and they’re doing okay out in the world. They survived, and I’ll survive, too, if I can have a little help. I want a father who doesn’t leave for a month without saying good-bye and without calling home. I want a mother who’ll protect me. I can deal with a lot of the crazy stuff, as long as they don’t run away.” Her voice began to break, but she was determined to finish. “I’m leaving, too, as soon as I can. Until then, though, please don’t abandon me.”

She looked at her father and saw nothing but tears. She looked at her mother and saw the same.

St. Nick looked at the lawyer and said, “As April’s guardian, Mrs. Boone, do you have a recommendation?”

“I have a recommendation, Your Honor, and I have a plan,” Marcella Boone said.

“I’m not surprised. Continue.”

“My recommendation is that April remain at home tonight and tomorrow night, and then on a nightly basis. If either parent plans to be away from home during the night, that parent must notify me in advance, and I’ll notify the Court. Further, I recommend the parents begin marriage counseling immediately. I suggest Doctor Francine Street, who is in my opinion the best in town. I’ve taken the liberty of setting up an appointment this afternoon at five p.m. Doctor Street will keep me posted on the progress. If either parent fails to show up for counseling, then I will be notified immediately. I will contact Mrs. Finnemore’s new therapist and ask to be updated on her progress in rehab.”

St. Nick stroked his beard and nodded at Mrs. Boone. “I like it,” he said. “What about you, Mr. Finnemore?”

“Sounds reasonable, Your Honor.”

“And you, Mrs. Finnemore?”

“I’ll agree to anything, Judge. Just please don’t take her away.”

“Then it is so ordered. Anything else, Mrs. Boone?”

“Yes, Your Honor. I have arranged for April to have a cell phone. If something happens, if she feels threatened or in danger, or whatever, then she can call me immediately. If for some reason I’m not available, she can call my paralegal, or perhaps someone with the Court. Plus, I’m sure she can always find Theo.”

St. Nick thought for a second and smiled, then said, “And I’m sure Theo can always find her.”

Fifteen feet above, in the dark intestines of the Stratten County Courthouse, Theodore Boone smiled to himself.

The hearing was over.

Speedy was back, shuffling through his cramped room below, mumbling to himself as he put his mop away and accidentally kicked his bucket. Theo was trapped and he really wanted to get out of the building and go to school. He waited. Minutes passed, then he heard the familiar sound of Speedy snoring, fast asleep as usual. Silently, Theo climbed down the shelves and landed on the floor. Speedy was kicked back in his favorite chair, cap pulled down over his eyes, mouth open, dead to the world. Theo eased by and made his escape. He was hustling down the wide hallway, almost to the sweeping staircase when he heard someone call his name. It was Judge Henry Gantry, Theo’s favorite judge in the entire courthouse.

“Theo,” he called loudly.

Theo stopped, turned, and began walking to the judge.

Henry Gantry was not smiling, though he seldom did. He was carrying a thick file of some sort and he was not wearing his black robe. “Why aren’t you in school?” he demanded.

More than once, Theo had played hooky or skipped school to watch a trial, and on at least two occasions he’d been caught red-handed, in the courtroom. “I was in court with my mother,” he said, somewhat truthfully. He was looking up. Judge Gantry was looking down.

“Would this have anything to do with the April Finnemore case?” he asked. Strattenburg was not a large city and there were few secrets, especially among the lawyers, judges, and police.

“Yes, sir.”

“I hear you found the girl and brought her home,” Judge Gantry said with the first hint of a smile.

“Something like that,” Theo said modestly.

“Nice work, Theo.”

“Thanks.”

“Just so you’ll know, I’ve rescheduled the Duffy trial to begin in six weeks. I’m sure you’ll want front-row seats.”

Theo could think of nothing to say. The first murder trial of Pete Duffy had been the biggest in the town’s history, and, thanks to Theo, it had ended in a mistrial. The second promised to be even more suspenseful.

Theo finally said, “Sure, Judge.”

“We’ll talk about it later. Get to school.”

“Sure thing.” Theo bounded down the stairs, jumped on his bike, and raced away from the courthouse. He had a lunch date with April. They planned to meet outside the school cafeteria at noon and steal away to the old gym where no one could find them. Mrs. Boone had packed veggie sandwiches, April’s favorite and Theo’s least favorite, and peanut butter cookies.

Theo wanted to hear every last detail of the abduction.

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