Theodore Boone: the Fugitive

"Not since Nancy Drew has a nosy, crime-obsessed kid been so hard to resist." -The New York Times

Thirteen-year-old Theodore Boone thought the danger had passed, but he's about to face off against an old adversary: accused murderer and fugitive Pete Duffy.

On a field trip to Washington, DC, Theo spots a familiar face on the Metro: Duffy, who jumped bail and was never seen again. Theo's quick thinking helps bring Duffy back to Strattenburg to stand trial. But now that Duffy knows who he is, Theo is in greater danger than he's ever been in before. Even when everything is on the line, Theodore Boone will stop at nothing to make sure a killer is brought to justice.

This smart, fast-paced legal thriller for young readers is the newest adventure for clever and determined kid lawyer Theo Boone.

From the Hardcover edition.

Auteur
John Grisham wurde am 8. Februar 1955 in Jonesboro, Arkansas, geboren, studierte in Mississippi und ließ sich 1981 als Anwalt nieder. Der aufsehenerregende Fall einer vergewaltigten Minderjährigen brachte ihm zum Schreiben. In Früh- und Nachtschichten wurde daraus sein erster Thriller, 'Die Jury', der in einem kleinen, unabhängigen Verlag erschien, der Beginn einer beispiellosen Erfolgsgeschichte.

Résumé
Praise for the Theodore Boone series

"Smartly written." -USA Today

"Edge-of-your-seat drama, sophisticated plotting, and plenty of spunk." -Chicago Sun-Times

"Classic Grisham." -The Los Angeles Times

"Not since Nancy Drew has a nosy, crime-obsessed kid been so hard to resist." -The New York Times

"Gripping . . . I would recommend this book to anyone who loves a good mystery. I think everyone will be enthralled by Theodore Boone." -Scholastic News

From the Hardcover edition.

Échantillon de lecture
PART ONE

THE CAPTURE

Chapter 1

Though the streetlights of Strattenburg were still on, and there was no hint of sunlight in the east, the parking lot in front of the middle school was buzzing with energy as almost 175 eighth graders arrived in family cars and vans, all driven by sleepy parents eager to get rid of the kids for a few days. The kids had slept little. They had packed all night, tossed and turned in their beds, hopped out long before sunrise, showered, packed some more, awakened their parents, pushed for a quick breakfast, and in general acted as hyper as a bunch of five-year-olds waiting for Santa. At six a.m., as instructed, they all arrived at the school at the same time. They were greeted by the awesome sight of four long, sleek, matching tour buses in perfect single file with running lights glittering in the dark and diesel engines purring.

The Eighth-Grade Field Trip! Six hours by bus to Washington, DC, for three-and-a-half days of seeing the sights and four nights of mischief in a high-rise hotel. For this, the students had worked for months-selling doughnuts on Saturday mornings, washing a thousand cars, cleaning roadside ditches and recycling the aluminum cans, soliciting the same downtown merchants who contributed every year, selling fruitcakes door-to-door at Christmas, auctioning used sports equipment, holding bake-a-thons and bike-a-thons and book-a-thons, and pursuing with enthusiasm any number of mildly profitable ventures approved by the Field Trip Committee. All proceeds went into the same pot. The goal had been ten thousand dollars, certainly not enough to cover all expenses but enough to guarantee the trip. This year the class had raised almost twelve thousand dollars, which meant that each student was assessed $125.

There were a few students who could not afford this. However, the school had a long tradition of making sure no one was left behind. Every single eighth grader was headed to Washington, along with ten teachers and eight parents.

Theodore Boone was thrilled that his mother had not volunteered for the trip. They had discussed it over dinner. His father had quickly bowed out, claiming, as usual, that he simply had too much work. Theo's mother, at first, seemed interested in tagging along, but soon realized she could not. Theo checked her trial calendar at the office and knew full well she would be in court while he was having a ball in Washington.

As they waited in traffic, Theo sat in the front seat and stroked the head of his dog, Judge, who was sitting partially on the console and partially in Theo's lap. Judge usually sat wherever he wanted, and none of the Boones told him otherwise.

"Are you excited?" Mr. Boone asked. He had drop-off duty because Mrs. Boone had gone back to bed for another hour of sleep.

"Sure," Theo said, trying to hide his excitement. "A long bus ride, though."

"I'm sure you guys'll be asleep before you get out of town. We've gone over the rules. Any questions?"

"We've been through this a dozen times," Theo said, mildly frustrated. He liked his parents. They were a bit older than average, and he was an only child, and at times they seemed a little too protective. One of the few things that irritated Theo about them was their fondness of rules. All rules, regardless of who made them, must be followed perfectly.

Theo suspected this was because they were both lawyers.

"I know, I know," his father said. "Just follow the rules, do what your teachers tell you, and don't do anything stupid. Remember what happened two years ago?"

How could Theo, or any other eighth grader, ever forget what happened two years ago? Two bozos-Jimbo Nance and Duck DeFoe-dropped water balloons from a fifth-floor hotel room into the indoor lobby far below. No one was hurt, but some folks got really wet, and really mad. A snitch turned them in, and the boys' parents had to drive six hours in the middle of the night to retrieve them. Then six hours back t