Theodore Boone: The Accomplice

Chapter 17

Garth Tucker’s family owned a construction company that built cheap motels along interstate highways. Garth’s father inherited the company from his father and had the reputation of being a shrewd businessman. It therefore came as no surprise when he hired Clifford Nance to defend his son.

Clifford Nance was perhaps the finest criminal defense lawyer for miles around. Theo had watched him in court many times, most recently in the murder trial of Pete Duffy. When Clifford Nance was in trial, the charges were serious and the accused had plenty of money to hire the best.

At nine a.m. on a Wednesday morning, Nance sat at the defense table with young Garth next to him. For the occasion, Garth wore a dark suit and a tie, and he had evidently just been to the barbershop. He was a handsome young gentleman who looked as though he was not capable of committing any crime. His father sat behind him.

Judge Gantry was on the bench, shuffling papers and working his way through a crowded docket. He said, “Good morning. The first matter of business is the preliminary hearing for Mr. Garth Tucker. Let the record reflect that the accused is present along with his attorney, Mr. Clifford Nance. Is the State ready to proceed?”

Jack Hogan, the veteran prosecutor, stood and said, “Yes, Your Honor. I believe you have the police report and the summary of the charges.”

“I do. And I’d like to remind everyone that this is only a preliminary hearing, not a trial, so let’s be brief.”

“Indeed. The State calls Mr. Clem Hamm to the stand.”

Mr. Hamm was waiting by the jury box and stepped forward to be sworn. Once situated in the witness chair, he smiled at His Honor and tried not to appear nervous. Jack Hogan asked some basic questions to establish that he was a part owner of Kall’s Grocery, an all-night convenience store on Highway 22 north of town. On the evening of October 18, around eleven p.m., he was behind the counter going about his business, which was slow that night. No one else was in the store. A young man walked in, went to the beer cooler, grabbed a case of beer, brought it to the counter, said he was out of money, reached into a pocket and whipped out a pistol. He aimed it squarely at Clem’s face and told him to open the cash register, which he did. Clem took a step back, held up his hands, and said please don’t shoot.

“Do you see the man with the gun in this courtroom?” Hogan asked.

“Right there,” Clem said, pointing at Garth.

“What happened next?”

“He grabbed the cash, stuffed it in a pocket, picked up the beer, and as he was leaving he pointed the gun at my nose and pulled the trigger. I almost fainted. Warm water hit me in the eyes. He laughed and said, “Bang, bang. Don’t call the cops or I’ll blast you again.”

“And what did you do then?”

“Well, for a second or two, I was too scared to move, so I just stood there. Then I heard his car door slam, so I stepped to the window and watched him drive away, spinning tires and slinging gravel. Once he was gone, I ran over, locked the front door, and called the police.”

“What kind of car was he driving?”

“A green Mustang, one of those souped-up muscle cars.”

“How much money did he take from the cash register?”

“Two hundred and fourteen dollars.”

“Now, Mr. Hamm, when he aimed the pistol at you, did you realize it was only a toy?”

“No, sir, not at all. The thing looked real and I was scared to death. I thought I was a dead man. I mean, my heart froze and I couldn’t breathe for a moment or two.”

Hogan stepped to a table below the bench and picked up a pistol in a plastic bag. He slowly removed it and handed it to Clem. “This look familiar?”

Clem took it, examined it, and said, “This looks just like the one he aimed at me.”

“Thank you.” Hogan took the pistol and placed it back on the table. “Now, Mr. Hamm, does your store use surveillance cameras?”

“Yes, sir, got ’em all over the place.”

The lights were dimmed as Jack Hogan rolled over a large screen. Four of the cameras recorded Garth’s quick visit to Kall’s. The first camera was outside and looked down at the gas pumps. In one corner it showed the Mustang arrive and Garth hopping out. Seconds later it showed him returning to his car with the case of beer. The second camera was mounted inside and caught customers coming and going. There was Garth, crystal clear, as he entered the store and looked around. Not long afterward it recorded him leaving with the beer. The third camera was mounted high in the rear of the store and faced the large coolers filled with beer, bottled water, and soft drinks. Garth yanked open a door, grabbed the beer, and disappeared. The fourth camera was hidden above the cash register and, in vivid detail, showed him put the beer on the counter, pull out the pistol, say something to Clem, grab the cash, then aim and pull the trigger.

What kind of idiot robs a store with such heavy surveillance?

In the front row of the courtroom, Woody and Tony sat next to their lawyer, Rodney Wall. They would not participate in the preliminary hearing, but Mr. Wall wanted them there anyway. It was important to see the evidence the State had at its disposal. As Clem described each video, Rodney Wall leaned over to Tony and whispered, “This guy is a moron.”

Tony nodded his agreement and whispered, “He claims he was drunk and didn’t know what he was doing.”

Mr. Wall just shook his head. None of the videos revealed any trace of the Lambert boys in the car.

The lights were turned on and Clem Hamm stepped down. The next witness was a detective in a dark suit. Jack Hogan handed him the pistol and asked him to identify it. He said, “We found this in the left front pocket of Mr. Garth Tucker. It’s a plastic water pistol that is designed to look exactly like a compact Ruger nine millimeter. And, I must say, it is a very good fake. The detail is impressive. From a distance of ten feet, I could not tell the difference between this and the real thing.”

“Who makes these?”

“I don’t know where it came from, but we found a toy company in Taiwan that makes water guns of all varieties. Evidently, there are several manufacturers.”

Woody agreed. He still remembered the horror of staring at the pistol as Garth pulled the trigger. For that split second, he was too stunned to realize what was happening.

“Nothing further, Your Honor,” Jack Hogan said. “The State requests that this case be sent to the grand jury for further action.”

Judge Gantry said, “Mr. Nance?”

Clifford Nance half-stood and said, “Nothing at this time, Your Honor.” It was neither the time nor the place to argue on behalf of his client. Like most good criminal defense lawyers, Mr. Nance was using the occasion to see the evidence and to measure the witnesses to be used against Garth.

And he had seen enough. The case would never go to trial, never get near a jury. Nance was already working on a scheme to keep Garth out of jail, and it involved the two juveniles who had been riding with him.