John Grisham - The Fugitive

“Of course. It’s all over the news.”

“Here’s what really happened.”

He told her everything.

“But, Theo, what you did was brave and honorable. You’re responsible for bringing a murderer to justice. At the moment when you saw him and realized who he was, you had no choice but to do what you did. I’m very proud of you. I can’t think of another kid who could have done that. You caught him twice.”

“But what if he knows who I am? If you had seen the look on his face when they walked him away in handcuffs, you’d be pretty scared.”

“He’s not going to hurt you. He’s in enough trouble. Besides, I doubt if he recognized you. You’ve never met the man. You’re just a thirteen-year-old kid he saw in the airport when he must have been in shock. I wouldn’t worry about that.”

“Okay, what about Bobby Escobar? He’s about to be on the hot seat and he’s probably terrified. I’ve really complicated his life.”

“He’s also the star witness. You gotta believe the police will take care of their star witness. Right?”

“I guess. But Duffy has some thugs I sort of bumped into during the first trial. They’re probably still around.”

“Maybe not. They might’ve skipped town when Duffy did. And let’s say they are still here. What do they gain by harming you? You’re just a kid. If they beat you up, how does that help Duffy with his murder trial?”

“I won’t care if I’m beat up.”

“Relax, Theo, you’re worrying too much.”

“Okay, here’s something else to worry about. This is a long shot, but I do think about it. Let’s say Duffy goes to trial, gets convicted of murder, and the jury gives him the death penalty. Then one day they walk him into the death chamber down at Deep Rock Prison, put a needle in his arm, and it’s lights-out. If they execute him, I’ll get some of the blame.”

“Look, Theo, you always say you believe in the law, right?”

“Of course.”

“And the law in this state says that if a person is convicted of capital murder, then that person deserves the death penalty. I don’t agree with that, but it’s the law. Nobody will blame you just because they followed the law.”

Theo swallowed some frozen yogurt and tried to think of something else to worry about. Thinking of nothing, he said, “You don’t believe in the death penalty?”

“No, I think it’s awful. Don’t tell me you want the state to execute people.”

“I don’t know, to be honest. My dad is in favor of capital punishment. My mom agrees with you. They argue about it and I hear both sides. What are you supposed to do with serial killers and terrorists?”

“That’s why we have prisons, to lock up nasty people and keep them away from us.”

“So, if they prove Pete Duffy strangled his wife just to collect a million bucks in life insurance, you think he should be sent to prison for the rest of his life?”

“Yes. What do you think they should do with him?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to think about it. But if his thugs come after me, then I’m in favor of the death penalty.”

“Relax, Theo. You’re worrying too much.”

“Thanks, April. I always feel better when I talk to you.”

“That’s what friends are for, Theo.”

“And please don’t tell anyone.”

“Stop worrying.”

Ike wasn’t worried either. He was sipping on a beer and listening to old Motown tunes when Theo and Judge arrived for the mandatory Monday afternoon meeting.

“Any news?” Theo asked. Ike drank and played poker with some old guys, retired judges and policemen, even some shadier types who had never been caught by the police and had never faced judges. He took great pride in collecting the gossip.

“There’s a rumor that Duffy will not fight extradition. He could be back here in a couple of days. Things are looking bad for the old boy. He’s broke and probably can’t afford to hire Clifford Nance again, probably can’t hire any lawyer with any talent. He lost a million bucks on his bond, and that lovely home out in Waverly Creek is about to be owned by the bank.”

“Who’ll be his lawyer?”

“I have no idea. He’ll find someone, some hungry lawyer looking for a big case. Would you take his case, Theo, if you were a young lawyer in town? You say you want to be a big courtroom lawyer.”

“I don’t think so. He looks pretty guilty.”

“He’s innocent until proven guilty. Lawyers don’t always get to choose their clients, and most criminal defendants are guilty anyway. Someone has to represent him.”

“He’s guilty of escape. That’s ten years right there. Not much a lawyer can do with that.”

“Right. I have a hunch Duffy might want to cut a deal, a plea bargain. He pleads guilty to the murder, avoids a trial, and in return the state agrees not to pursue the death penalty. Happens all the time. He’ll spend the rest of his life in prison, where he belongs, but at least he’ll be alive.”

“How bad is prison, Ike?” Theo asked cautiously. It was a subject that had always been off-limits.

Ike kicked back and put his feet on his desk. He sipped beer from the bottle and thought for a long time. “You could say I got lucky, Theo, because I was not in a terrible prison. They’re all bad, you know, because you’re locked away and forgotten. I lost everything, including my family. My name, respect, profession, self-worth, everything. That’s what you think about when you’re in prison — all the things you take for granted. It was awful, just awful. But, I was not in a place where bad things happened to us. Sure there was some violence, but I never got hurt. I made friends. I met other men who had been there much longer, and they were surviving. We had jobs, got paid, read thousands of books, had access to newspapers and magazines, watched television, sometimes old movies, wrote letters, exercised. The food was terrible but I actually got healthier in prison because I stopped smoking and drinking and jogged every day.” He took another sip and stared at a wall. “The prison Duffy will go to will be much worse, but it will still be something he can survive. If he goes to death row and waits for an execution, he’ll be placed in a cell by himself and locked up there for twenty-three hours a day. Bottom line, Theo, if I were Pete Duffy, I’d beg for a plea bargain and avoid death row. He’ll be alive and that’s worth a lot.”

“Will the state offer him a plea bargain?”

“Don’t know and it’s too early to speculate. Jack Hogan is a very good prosecutor and it’ll be his decision.”

“I really want to watch another trial.”

“Sorry, but you don’t get a vote.”

The phone on Ike’s desk rang and he glanced at the caller ID. “I need to take this.”

Two days later the big news spread through Strattenburg. Pete Duffy would not fight extradition and was on his way back to town. On the late news Wednesday night, the lead story was the arrival of Mr. Duffy, and a television crew filmed him from a distance as he got out of the backseat of an unmarked car and shuffled through a side door of the jail. He was handcuffed and his ankles were obviously chained together. He wore a cap and sunglasses, and he was surrounded by policemen. It was just a brief glimpse of him, but enough to get Theo excited.

He was watching the news with his parents. It was past his bedtime, but they were ignoring the clock so he could see this breaking story. The reporter said that, according to an unnamed source, Mr. Duffy would make his first appearance in court on Friday.

Theo began scheming of ways to skip school and be in the courtroom.

“How does this make you feel, Theo?” his mother asked.