Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer Read Free Page B

pacing. “Well, the State has the burden of proving guilt, so it must present its case first. First thing tomorrow morning, the prosecutor will walk to the jury box and address the jurors. This is called the opening statement. He’ll lay out his case. Then the defense lawyer will do the same. After that, the State will start calling witnesses. As you know, Mr. Duffy is presumed to be innocent, so the State must prove him guilty, and it must do so beyond a reasonable doubt. He claims he’s innocent, which actually in real life doesn’t happen very often. About eighty percent of those indicted for murder eventually plead guilty, because they are in fact guilty. The other twenty percent go to trial, and ninety percent of those are found guilty. So, it’s rare for a murder defendant to be found not guilty.”
    “My dad thinks he’s guilty,” Brian said.
    “A lot of people do,” Theo said.
    “How many trials have you watched, Theo?”
    “I don’t know. Dozens.”
    Since none of the other fifteen had ever seen the inside of a courtroom, this was almost beyond belief. Theo continued: “For those of you who watch a lot of television, don’t expect fireworks. A real trial is very different, and not nearly as exciting. There are no surprise witnesses, no dramatic confessions, no fistfights between the lawyers. And, in this trial, there are no eyewitnesses to the murder. This means that all of the evidence from the State will be circumstantial. You’ll hear this word a lot, especially from Mr. Clifford Nance, the defense lawyer. He’ll make a big deal out of the fact that the State has no direct proof, that everything is circumstantial.”
    “I’m not sure what that means,” someone said.
    “It means that the evidence is indirect, not direct. For example, did you ride your bike to school?”
    “Yes.”
    “And did you chain it to the rack by the flagpole?”
    “Yes.”
    “So, when you leave school this afternoon, and you go to the rack, and your bike is gone, and the chain has been cut, then you have indirect evidence that someone stole your bike. No one saw the thief, so there’s no direct evidence. And let’s say that tomorrow the police find your bike in a pawnshop on Raleigh Street, a place known to deal in stolen bikes. The owner gives the police a name, they investigate and find some dude with a history of stealing bikes. You can then make a strong case, through indirect evidence, that this guy is your thief. No direct evidence, but circumstantial.”
    Even Mr. Mount was nodding along. He was the faculty adviser for the Eighth-Grade Debate Team, and, not surprisingly, Theodore Boone was his star. He’d never had a student as quick on his feet.
    “Thank you, Theo,” Mr. Mount said. “And thank you for getting us the seats in the morning.”
    “Nothing to it,” Theo said, and proudly took his seat.
    It was a bright class in a strong public school. Justin was by far the best athlete, though he couldn’t swim as fast as Brian. Ricardo beat them all at golf and tennis. Edward played the cello, Woody the electric guitar, Darren the drums, Jarvis the trumpet. Joey had the highest IQ and made perfect grades. Chase was the mad scientist who was always a threat to blow up the lab. Aaron spoke Spanish, from his mother’s side, German from his father’s, and English, of course. Brandon had an early morning paper route, traded stocks online, and planned to be the first millionaire in the group.
    Naturally, there were two hopeless nerds and at least one potential felon.
    The class even had its own lawyer, a first for Mr. Mount.

Chapter 3
    T he law firm of Boone & Boone had its offices in an old converted house on Park Street, three blocks off of Main and a ten-minute walk to the courthouse. There were lots of lawyers in the neighborhood, and all the houses on Park had become the offices of attorneys, architects, accountants, engineers, and so on.
    The firm had two lawyers, Mr. Boone and Mrs. Boone, and they