John Grisham - The Accused

His parents crowded behind him and gawked at the monitor sitting on the kitchen counter. A photo taken secretly by some punk and then broadcast to the world with a bunch of lies to describe it. As lawyers, their first reaction was-what could be done legally to stop it, to fix it, to bring the guilty party to justice?

“I’m assuming this is everywhere,” Mrs. Boone said.

“Probably so.” Theo replied.

“What is GashMail?” Mr. Boone asked.

“It’s kind of a shady server you use when you don’t want to get caught. A lot of unknown e-mails start there, and it’s really hard to track them down.”

“So we can’t track this?”

“Anything is possible with the Internet, but it would be complicated and expensive.”

“The Internet,” Mr. Boone said in disgust, and walked to the window above the sink and stared into the darkness of the backyard.

Theo sat down at the table and rubbed his temples. “I guess my life is ruined,” he said, and for a moment was near tears.

“This can be explained, Theo,” his father said. “Your friends will know the truth. What strangers think doesn’t matter.”

“That’s easy for you to say, Dad. You don’t have to face all those kids at school tomorrow. And you don’t know how fast rumors fly on the Internet. Half the town is looking at the photo right now and deciding that I’m guilty.”

Theo’s mother sat next to him and patted his arm. “You’re not guilty of anything, Theo, and the truth will come out.”

“I’m not so sure about that, Mom. You saw Detective Hamilton today. He thinks I’m guilty. What if they don’t find the real thieves? What if they finish their investigation with nothing but me, just me and those three stolen tablets in my locker? At some point, they have to charge somebody with the crime, and it could easily be me. I saw the owner of the store today, they call him Big Mac, and, believe me, he’s convinced I’m guilty and he’s out for blood. He’ll see this photo. The police will see it, too. It makes it easier to believe I’m guilty.”

There was a long, heavy pause as Theo’s words settled in the kitchen. Was reality gradually seeping in? Was it possible that Theo could actually be charged with the crime? And once the wheels of justice began moving, could the Boones do anything to prevent a terrible outcome?

Each tablet had a value of approximately four hundred dollars, for a total of twelve hundred dollars. When the combined value of stolen goods was in excess of five hundred dollars, then the crime was deemed a felony, a more serious crime than a misdemeanor. Theo knew the law; he’d been pondering it for hours now. He had even double-checked the codes and statutes at the office when he was supposed to be doing his homework. If he were eighteen or older, he would be staring at a felony charge. However, because he was only thirteen, the case would be handled in Juvenile Court where the rules were different. Things were more private there. The files were not made public, nor were the hearings. There were no juries; all matters were decided by a Juvenile Court judge. Jail sentences were rare, and seldom for long periods of time.

If this train wreck continued and Theo somehow got convicted, he could possibly be sentenced to a few months in a detention center for kids.

Jail? Theodore Boone sentenced to serve time?

Outrageous. Crazy. An overreaction. All of the above, but Theo’s hyperactive mind was out of control.

His mother was speaking to him. “Theo, the first thing you do is fight back. Attack. When you’re right, you never back down. Post a message on your page and tell the truth. E-mail all your friends and tell them this photo and its caption are misleading. Get April, Chase, and Woody and those you trust the most to flood the Internet with the truth. Spread the word that we, your family, are considering legal action.”

“We are?” Theo asked.

“Of course we are. We are considering it. It might not work, but we are at least considering it.”

“Mom’s right, Theo,” Mr. Boone said. “The least you can do at this point is put up a fight.”

Theo liked it. He had been paralyzed for the past ten minutes, and now it was time for action.

An hour later, the Boones were still at the kitchen table, all three hammering away at their laptops as they tried to chase the rumors while containing them at the same time. It was a losing battle. The photo and its caption were too juicy to ignore, and Theo was proving to be a good target. The only child of two well-known lawyers arrested for breaking and entering, and burglary. Caught red-handed with the stolen goods in his school locker. Like every false rumor, it gained credibility while being repeated, and before long it was practically a fact.

Mr. Boone closed his laptop and began taking notes on his standard yellow pad. At any given moment in Theo’s young life, he could walk through the house and lay eyes on at least five yellow legal pads.

“Let’s do some detective work,” Mr. Boone said. Mrs. Boone removed her reading glasses and closed her laptop, too. She took a sip of herbal tea and said, “Okay, Sherlock Holmes, let’s go.”

“First, who could break into your locker without being seen?” Mr. Boone asked. “I can’t imagine a stranger, an adult, entering the school, going straight to the locker, somehow knowing the code, and breaking in.”

“Agreed,” said Mrs. Boone. “Theo, do you ever see teachers, or coaches, or janitors or any other adult opening the lockers?”

“Never. You never see them around the lockers. The teachers hang out in the faculty lounge. The janitors have a locker room in the basement, but it’s off-limits for students. The coaches use the locker rooms at the gym.”

“So an adult would be noticed?”

Theo thought for a moment, then said, “If we knew the adult, and she was opening one of our lockers, then, sure, we would make a note of it. That would be unusual. If it were a stranger, we would probably say something to the person. I don’t know for sure because it’s never happened.”

“But this is between classes when the halls are busy, right?” asked Mr. Boone.

“Yes.”

“What about while you’re in class and the halls are empty?”

Theo thought some more. “The halls are rarely empty. During class there’s usually someone going somewhere-a student with a hall pass, a janitor, a teacher’s assistant.”

“What about security cameras in the halls?” Mr. Boone asked.

“They took them down a few weeks ago to install a new system.”

Mrs. Boone said, “Sounds to me like it would be too risky for an adult to open a student’s locker.”

“I agree,” Theo said. “But every crime has some risk, right?”

“Sure, but isn’t the risk much greater for someone who does not normally use a locker?”

“Yes,” Mr. Boone said with certainty. “And even riskier for someone from outside the school. I say we eliminate that person. Can we agree that this is an inside job, someone from inside the school?”

Theo shrugged but did not disagree, nor did his mother.

Mr. Boone continued, “Someone who knows how to open the locker. Someone who could steal the code. And, someone with easy access to the bike racks where it takes about two seconds to poke a hole in a tire. Someone who knows Theo’s bike, knows where he parks it. Someone who knows his schedule and movements. Someone who knows Theo well and can watch him without getting caught.”

“Another student?” Theo asked.

“Exactly.”

Mrs. Boone was skeptical. “I find it hard to believe that a thirteen-year-old could break into the computer store, avoid the security cameras, and make a clean getaway.”

“That’s more believable than a janitor or a teacher’s assistant,” Mr. Boone replied.