Theodore Boone The Accused

Chapter 24


Linda Finn was sound asleep in her bedroom on the ground floor of her home at about 5:00 p.m. Monday afternoon when the doorbell rang and jarred her awake. She never got enough sleep. She worked from 8:00 p.m. to 8:00 a.m., four days a week and occasionally on weekends for extra money. Such a weird schedule disrupted normal sleep patterns and kept her tired. And often, when she should have been sleeping, she was wide awake worrying about her bruising divorce, her worthless husband and his hardnosed lawyer, and her two boys and the bad direction in which they seemed to be headed. Linda had plenty to worry about.

The doorbell would not stop ringing, so she pulled on an old bathrobe and walked to the front door in her bare feet. She opened the door. Staring at her was Detective Vorman, with Jonah, and behind them were two police officers in full uniform. Beyond them, at the curb, were two police cars, with lights and all the usual decorative painting and decals. There was an unmarked car in the driveway. She put her hand over her mouth and almost fainted.

Then she managed to open the storm door and said, “What is it?!”

Vorman flashed his badge and said, “Detective Scott Vorman, Strattenburg Police. May I come in?”

“What is it, Jonah?” she asked, horrified.

Jonah looked at his shoes.

“We need to talk,” Vorman said, opening the storm door wider. She backed away, clutching her bathrobe to make sure she was decent. Vorman followed Jonah inside and closed the door behind them. In the driveway, Detective Hamilton sat in his car with Jessie in the passenger’s seat. “Are we going in?” Jessie asked.

“Maybe,” Hamilton replied. The two uniformed officers loitered in the front yard, smoking cigarettes. Across the street, a few neighbors were on their porches, watching with curiosity.

Inside, Vorman found a seat in an old chair with holes in the fabric. Linda and Jonah sat on a sofa with battered cushions. “I’ll get to the point, Mrs. Finn. A computer store on Main Street was broken into last Tuesday night. The thieves took some laptops, cell phones, and tablets. About twenty thousand dollars worth of stuff. Our prime suspects are Jonah and Jessie.”

She jerked around and glared at Jonah, who was still fascinated by his shoes.

Vorman went on: “We’ve searched their lockers and backpacks, and so far we’ve recovered five of the tablets and one cell phone. We suspect the rest of the stuff might be hidden somewhere in this house, so we have a search warrant, signed by a judge, that allows us to look everywhere.”

“Everywhere?” Linda gasped, immediately thinking of the stacks of unwashed dishes in the kitchen sink, the piles of dirty laundry in the basement, the unmade beds, the undusted furniture and shelves, the filthy bathrooms, the litter in the hallway, the half-empty glasses and cups in the den, and all of this was only the downstairs. The upstairs, where the boys lived and she was afraid to go, looked worse than a landfill.

“That’s right,” Vorman said as he pulled out the search warrant and handed it to her. She just gawked at it and shook her head.

“Every room, every closet, every drawer,” Vorman said, cranking up the pressure. Vorman knew no woman would want the police or anyone else poking through their house.

“Is this true, Jonah?” she asked, her eyes suddenly wet. Jonah refused to speak.

“Yes, it’s true,” Vorman said. “Jessie has pretty much confessed to everything, but he will not tell us where the rest of the stolen goods are. So, we have no choice but to take the house apart and see if the stuff is here.”

“Is it here, Jonah?” she demanded. He glanced at her, another guilty look.

“At this point, it’s important to cooperate,” Vorman said helpfully. “The judge will take it into consideration.”

“If it’s here, tell them,” she said angrily to Jonah. “There’s no sense in making the police dig through our home.”

After a long pause, Vorman said, “Look, I don’t have all afternoon and all night. I’m going to call for some extra men and we’ll start by digging through the boys’ bedrooms.”

“Tell me, Jonah!” Mrs. Finn growled.

Jonah crossed his arms, bit his bottom lip, and finally said, “In the crawl space above the garage.”

Sitting in the unmarked car, Jessie watched with horror as the policemen walked out of the garage with armloads of laptops, tablets, and cell phones. “Well, well, I guess they found everything,” Hamilton said. “Stay here.” He got out of the car to go have a look. Jessie wiped a tear off his cheek.

Linda Finn quickly got dressed and followed the police downtown. Jessie was riding in the car in front of her. Jonah was with Detective Vorman in another car. She cried all the way, asking herself—How could this happen? What had she done wrong as a mother? What would they do with her boys? How would this affect her divorce and her battle to win custody of Jonah and Jessie? Would custody be an issue if they were sent away? A hundred questions raced through her mind as the little caravan moved through the streets of Strattenburg.

At the police station, they gathered in a small room in the basement, and for the first time since that morning Jonah and Jessie were face-to-face. Jessie looked as though he wanted to punch his little brother. Jonah was thinking what a rat his big brother was. But they could say nothing.

Detective Hamilton took charge by saying, “This crime has been solved and you boys are in some serious trouble, no sense in beating around the bush. You’re not going home tonight, and you may not be home for quite a while.”

Linda started crying again. After a few sobs, she managed to ask, “Where are you taking them?

“There’s a juvenile detention center down the street. They will appear in Youth Court the day after tomorrow and the judge will decide what to do with them at that point. A formal hearing will be held in about a month. Any questions?”

A thousand questions, but none spoken.

Detective Hamilton said, “I’m going to ask Detective Vorman to explain your Miranda Rights. Listen carefully.”

Vorman slid across two sheets of paper, one for each boy. “These are the same. Number one: You have the right to remain silent. Number two: Anything you say in this meeting may be used against you in court. Number three: You have the right to an attorney, and if you can’t afford one, the court will provide you with one.”

“Just like on television,” Jessie said, the wise guy.

“You got it,” Vorman said. “Any questions? Okay, sign those forms at the bottom. Mrs. Finn, as their mother, you sign just under their names.”

The Finns reluctantly signed their names. Vorman collected the sheets of paper. Hamilton looked at Jonah and Jessie, and said, “I’ve been through this a thousand times, and I can promise you that the most important thing you can do right now to help yourselves is to cooperate. You’re guilty. We know you’re guilty. We can prove you’re guilty. So none of this pointing fingers at everybody else. The judge, the same guy who decides if you’re gonna be sent away to juvenile detention, and for how long, will ask me in court if you boys cooperated. If I say yes, he likes that. If I say no, then he frowns and doesn’t like that. Understand?”

“I want a lawyer,” Jessie said.

“We can sure get you one,” Hamilton shot back. “Scott, take him to jail.”

Vorman jumped to his feet, snapped a pair of handcuffs off his belt, grabbed Jessie by the neck, pulled him up, and cuffed his hands behind his back. He opened the door and was about to take him away when Linda slapped the table and said, “Wait a minute! I want the truth! I want you two boys to tell me the truth. Sit down, Jessie. Sit down right here and tell me what happened.”

Vorman released Jessie, who was stunned at the speed with which he got himself handcuffed. Carefully, he sat on the edge of his chair, his hands still cuffed behind his back.

When everyone took a deep breath, Jonah said, “We did it because we needed the money.”