John Grisham - The Activist

He locked the rear door of the office and sped home. Upstairs, alone with Judge and with his door locked, he opened his laptop and began searching the white pages. He quickly found the addresses, phone numbers, and e-mail addresses of Coyle, Malzone, and Kyzer, all of whom lived either in the city or county. Theo searched Mr. Coyle and learned he had been sued by a business partner six months earlier. Theo made a note to check the file in the courthouse. A Google search of Mr. Kyzer produced a recent story in a local business magazine featuring him and his string of gas stations where an oil change cost $20 and could be done while you waited. He was forty years old and loved to fly helicopters and duck hunt, among other things.

There wasn’t much to be found on Mr. Stu Malzone, but one brief entry from an old copy of the Strattenburg Gazette put icing on the cake. It was a wedding announcement two years earlier. Stu Malzone, age twenty-three, had just gotten himself engaged to one Belinda Stak, age twenty-one, daughter of Mr. Mitchell Stak. Both bride and groom were students at Stratten College. The engagement photo showed the smiling faces of two young people who looked younger than their ages.

Theo checked the white pages again to verify what he almost knew to be true—there was only one Mitchell Stak in Strattenburg.

His head was spinning as he tried to line up the facts and put them in order. Mr. Joe “Fast” Ford was secretly buying land to develop to make a killing when the bypass was built. To do so, he set up the PLT Corporation to hide behind. The five county commissioners would vote to approve or not approve the bypass. The loudest supporter of the five was Mr. Mitchell Stak. His son-in-law, Stu, now twenty-seven years old, had been given a 20 percent share of PLT by Joe Ford, and done so in a way that it would not be made known. On paper, a 20 percent share was worth $400,000, and that was before Joe Ford set about developing the land. It was safe to assume that the 20 percent share would be worth far more after Joe Ford leveled the property and covered it with motels, strip malls, fast-food joints, and parking lots.

Theo suddenly had a knot in his stomach, a thick, throbbing sensation that made him feel sick. He walked to his bathroom, splashed some water in his face, and said a few words to Judge, who seemed completely unconcerned.

An hour later, Theo was lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer open and neglected on his chest. He hadn’t been able to finish a single paragraph.

He kept thinking about his father. Woods Boone was a well-respected lawyer who took great pride in ethics and professionalism. He was scornful of other lawyers who cut corners and got into trouble. He served on Bar Association committees to promote proper behavior among lawyers. And on and on. How could his father be involved in such a shady deal? He had prepared the paperwork to create the PLT Corporation, and had represented Joe Ford for years. Mr. Boone had even supported the bypass during family discussions.

Theo admitted to himself there was a good chance his father did not know Stu Malzone. In fact, he’d probably never met him. Maybe he had never met Mr. Coyle and Mr. Kyzer. Theo wanted to believe his father was working only for Joe Ford and doing what the client asked him to do. Theo clung to this belief, but he was still bothered by what he had discovered.

No crime had been committed; not by Joe Ford and certainly not by Mr. Boone. But something was wrong. If it was true that a close member of Mr. Stak’s family would pocket a nice profit from the approval of the bypass, and if this were made known before the vote, then Mr. Stak would be humiliated and maybe run off the County Commission. Making it known before the vote might kill the bypass.

Theo knew, though, that he was in possession of information he wasn’t supposed to have. Once again, he had sniffed through the secret files of Boone & Boone and allowed his prying eyes to see things that were forbidden.

Now what was he supposed to do? Maybe Ike would know.

Chapter 23

By the end of the school day on Monday, the little gang of activists had put together an impressive list of almost 400 kids who played soccer at the complex. Chase, the mad scientist and computer whiz, and sometime hacker, in the eighth grade, had been recruited to join the effort. Using the videos of the license plates taken by Theo and April the previous Saturday at the complex, the team made a list of all the cars, trucks, and vans. Meanwhile, Chase attacked the county’s online vehicle registration records, and in less than thirty minutes had found his way into a file listing the names and addresses of all owners. These names led to a lot of kids’ names.

Some names led to Facebook pages and e-mail addresses; others did not. Not immediately anyway. But the longer the activists toyed with their list, and tweaked it, and added to it, the more solid information they had.

Their plan was taking shape. They even had their own Facebook page and called it, “Bypass to Nowhere.”

Unlike most of the mandatory Monday afternoon visits, today Theo really wanted to talk to Ike. Around 5:00 p.m., he left Judge at the office and raced away on his bike. Ike’s office was only five minutes away from Boone & Boone, the firm he had cofounded twenty-five years earlier. That firm had prospered well over the years, while Ike was banished to the bush leagues with no license to practice law and little to do but prepare tax returns for people without a lot of money.

“How’s my favorite nephew?” Ike asked as Theo fell into a rickety chair.

Same question every Monday. Theo, Ike’s only nephew, replied, “Great, Ike, and how’s everything in your world?”

Ike smiled and waved his arms around as if to say, “Look at my world. It’s beautiful.” It was not. It was cramped and dingy and depressing, and Ike’s world was not a happy one. “Couldn’t be better,” he said. “You wanna beer?”

“Sure,” Theo replied.

Ike reached into a small refrigerator partially hidden under a credenza and pulled out two drinks—a bottle of beer and a can of Sprite. Theo got the green one as Ike popped another top. Bob Dylan was singing softly in the background.

Ike took a long slurp and said, “So how’s school these days?”

“School is a boring waste of time,” Theo said. “I should be in college getting ready for law school.”

“You’re thirteen years old, not exactly college material. You’d look pretty silly walking around a college campus with a mouth full of braces.”

“Thanks, Ike, for reminding me.”

“Stick with the eighth grade for now. Straight A’s still?”

“Close.” The last thing Theo wanted was another painful discussion about his grades. He wasn’t sure why Ike thought he had the right to pester Theo about his grades. “I met Joe Ford last week,” he blurted, to radically change the subject.

Ike took another sip and said, “I’m sure that was a real thrill. Where?”

“At the office. He was there seeing my dad on some legal matter. He’s the kind of guy who thinks talking to a kid is a waste of time.”

“If Joe Ford can’t make a buck off you, then he has no time for a little chitchat.”

“Then he fired my dad. He got mad when he saw me and Judge in the newspaper vowing to fight the thugs who want to build the bypass.”

“That was a bit strong.”

“So. I was mad. And Dad got mad too when Boone and Boone lost such a valuable client. I’m not sure why our little law firm represents people like Mr. Ford, but I guess that’s none of my business.”

After a long pause, Ike said, “Look, Theo, I’ve never met Joe Ford. I guess I know some things about him, same as most folks in town. I doubt if he is a crook. Let’s just say he’s a typical businessman who’s always looking for the next opportunity. That’s the American way, right? And guys like Ford need lawyers, so there’s nothing wrong with your father doing legal work for him. A law firm has gotta pay the bills, Theo.”