Theodore Boone: The Scandal (12 page)

W
ednesday afternoon, the five schoolteachers arrived at Boone & Boone for a big meeting. They gathered in the conference room with Mr. and Mrs. Boone, along with Vince and Dorothy. Elsa stayed at the front desk to answer the phone and do her work, and Theo watched and listened as much as possible, but heard nothing. “I think you’d better stay in your little room,” Elsa warned him, and he retreated, again in defeat.

He had one last trick up his sleeve. A few minutes before five, he hopped on his bike and rode to the courthouse. Judge Gantry’s courtroom was empty, just as Theo hoped. He walked down the hall to his office and said hello to Mrs. Hardy. She was arranging things on her desk and getting ready to leave.

“Is the judge in?” Theo asked.

“Yes, but he’s very busy.”

“I just need a minute.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

Five minutes later, Theo walked into Judge Gantry’s large office. “Well, hello, Theo,” the judge said. “What brings you here?”

“I need a favor,” Theo said somewhat nervously.

“What a surprise. I’m sure it has something to do with the hearing tomorrow. Let me guess—you believe that we cannot properly conduct matters unless you’re present in the courtroom. Right?”

“Something like that. Just curious, Judge, how long do you think it will last?”

“Couple of hours. It’s not a trial, you know, just a hearing with a few witnesses and the attorneys arguing back and forth.”

“And what time will you start?”

“It’s scheduled for nine a.m., but there are a couple of matters on the docket before it. Some routine motions and such that shouldn’t take too long. Why do you ask?”

“Well, Judge, as you know I spend a lot of time in the courtroom, more than any other kid I know, and it’s not unusual for things to get delayed. Lawyers show up late, or the police, or the bailiffs can’t get the people over from the jail on time. Or some lawyer doesn’t have his paperwork in order, or a fifteen-minute hearing runs for an hour or more. Anyway, as you well know, there are a lot of reasons for things to run behind schedule.”

“I run a pretty tight ship, Theo, if I do say so myself.”

“Yes, sir, I know that, and I’ve watched other judges who are not as organized as you. But, still, things do get delayed, you know.”

“Oh, I see. You want me to slow everything down in the morning.”

“Well, what I had in mind was more like moving the hearing back to one or two in the afternoon, then sort of stalling until school is out.”

“That’s asking a lot, Theo.”

“Yes, sir, I know, but I’m pretty desperate right now. Nothing else has worked. I’ve tried to explain to my parents and to my principal that since I have an interest in this case that I should be allowed to at least know what’s going on.”

“An interest in the case?”

“Yes, sir. I think I’m one of the victims.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You see, Judge, I barely missed Honors, and it was probably because of the cheating at East Middle School.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’s not something we talk about, and, as far as I know, the names of the students who didn’t make it have not been made public. In fact, the names and scores are kept confidential.”

“I see. And what do your parents think about your being a victim?”

“I’m not sure they see my point. They certainly have not agreed to let me miss school and watch the hearing. I played hooky a couple of weeks ago, and they’re still pretty sore about that. But I make straight A’s, usually, and school is boring anyway. I think I’m ready for law school, to be honest.”

Judge Gantry took a deep breath and rubbed his eyes. He stood and stretched and seemed very tired. He paced around his desk a few times, scratching his chin, deep in thought. Theo watched and waited, somewhat surprised that he’d gotten this far with his scheme. It was a long shot, and he fully expected the judge to order him out of his office with stern instructions to mind his own business. He, Judge Henry Gantry, did not need the help of a thirteen-year-old in managing his courtroom.

“You know, Theo, I’m inclined to agree with you.”

“You are?” Theo blurted, stunned.

“Yes, I see your point, and it’s a good one. You and the other students who are in the same boat should be able to watch the hearing and see what happens.”

“Really? I mean, sure, Judge. I agree.”

Judge Gantry stepped to his desk, pressed a button on the intercom, and said, “Mrs. Hardy, would you please step in here?” He returned to his seat at the conference table and asked, “What time is school dismissed tomorrow?”

“Final bell is at three thirty, but my last period is a study hall that’s easy to get out of. I could be here around two thirty I think.”

“I wouldn’t want to start later than that.”

“Fine with me.”

Mrs. Hardy walked in and Judge Gantry said to her, “I’ve reviewed my docket for tomorrow, and I’m afraid the first few matters might run a bit longer than expected. I’m resetting the motion to dismiss for two thirty. Please call the offices of Jack Hogan and Mrs. Boone, then follow up with e-mails.”

“Certainly,” she said, looking at Theo and wanting to ask, “What have you done now?” But she left, and when the door was closed, Judge Gantry said, “It’s no big deal, really. These types of hearings get moved around all the time.”

“It’s your courtroom, right?” Theo asked.

“For now, anyway.”

“Thanks.”

“Run along now, and I’ll see you tomorrow. And, Theo, not a word of this to anyone. The courtroom is open to the public, and if the other students wish to attend, so be it. But let’s not advertise this, okay?”

Theo jumped to his feet and said, “Sure, Judge. See you tomorrow.” As he grabbed the doorknob he turned and said, “Say, Judge, you really don’t think they’re criminals, do you?”

“That’s enough, Theo. See you tomorrow.”

D
inner was quiet. The Boones ate Chinese take-out in the den, and no one seemed interested in talking, which was unusual. Mr. and Mrs. Boone were thinking about the hearing tomorrow. Neither did much in the field of criminal law, and Theo sensed an uneasiness on their part. Mrs. Boone spent a lot of time in court, but almost always with divorce clients. Mr. Boone appeared before judges only once or twice a year. Theo was waiting for the right moment to bring up the subject of him missing study hall and hustling over to the courthouse at 2:30 to sit and watch it all. But, it was impossible to mention this when no one was talking. It had to be discussed, though, because Theo knew it was a bad idea to just show up without telling his parents why.

His first challenge would be to convince Mr. Mount that he was needed in court at 2:30, but he wasn’t too worried about that.

Finally, he said, “Why is everyone so quiet?”

His mother said, “Oh, sorry, Theo, I was just thinking about something else.”

Mr. Boone said, “I was just eating.”

“Well, don’t we always talk and eat at the same time?”

“Sure,” his mother said. “What do you want to talk about?”

“Well, we could talk about the conflict in the Middle East or that typhoon in the Philippines, but that’s not what you’re thinking about. I suspect you’re both worrying about tomorrow and the five clients that might be facing criminal trials and possibly going to jail. Right?”

Both of his parents smiled. His mother said, “Judge Gantry moved the hearing back to two thirty.”

“Oh really? Wonder why he did that.”

“It’s not that unusual. He’s a very busy judge with a crowded docket. I suppose you’ll hurry over after school and watch things.”

“If that’s okay?”

“I’m not so sure about that,” his father said. “It might not be a good idea for you to be in the courtroom.”

“The courtroom is open to the public, Dad. There will be a lot of people there—family members, school folks, reporters, maybe even some parents of eighth graders. It doesn’t seem fair to keep me away.”

“He’s right, Woods,” Mrs. Boone said. “There’s nothing private about the hearing. It will be splashed all over the newspaper Friday morning.”

“I agree,” Theo said. “So it’s okay if I show up?”

Both parents took a bite of rice at the exact same moment. His mother sort of nodded okay. His father sort of didn’t, but Theo knew he was home free.

When the 8:40 bell rang for homeroom, Theo had been talking to Mr. Mount for the past ten minutes. Mr. Mount said, “I don’t know, Theo. If I excuse you from study hall I’ll have to inform Mrs. Gladwell. Any student leaving early must check out at the front office, you know that. She might still be a bit ticked off because you skipped a few days ago.”

“She’s always ticked off about something. That’s her job.”

“I don’t know.”

“Look, Mr. Mount, I had a chat with Judge Gantry yesterday in his office, and he thinks it’s important for me to be in the courtroom.”

“Seriously?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you. In fact, and you can’t tell anyone this, but it was my idea to postpone the hearing for a few hours. You know how it is in court—stuff is always getting delayed and postponed. He has a few matters first thing in the morning, and I sort of convinced him to bump the hearing to the afternoon so I can be there. He wants me there, Mr. Mount. I can send him an e-mail if you’d like.”

“No, no that’s okay. I’ll send a note to Mrs. Gladwell.”

“Thanks.”

By lunchtime, April was complaining of an upset stomach and seemed deathly ill. She called her mother who promptly called Miss Gloria and arranged for her to leave school as soon as possible.

When the bell rang at 2:20, Theo sprinted to his bike and sped off to court.

J
udge Gantry was settling himself on his perch at the bench when Theo and April eased into the balcony and took two seats in the front row. Looking down, they had a perfect view and could see everything but the very back of the courtroom. To the left, beyond the bar, was the defense table, crowded with the five teachers and Mr. and Mrs. Boone. To the right was the prosecution’s table where Mr. Jack Hogan and one of his assistants were seated. There was a nice crowd scattered throughout the spectators’ seats. Theo figured those watching were friends and families of the teachers, along with some reporters and school personnel. He recognized a few lawyers, a few of the same ones who were always hanging around the courtroom when something interesting took place.

Judge Gantry began properly with, “Good afternoon. We are here on a motion by the defendants to dismiss the charges of fraud and conspiracy filed against them. Let the record reflect that all five are here, along with their attorneys of record, the Honorable Marcella Boone and the Honorable Woods Boone.”

Theo often wondered why judges and lawyers insisted on referring to one another as “Honorable,” but he had never found a satisfactory answer. Ike scoffed at this practice, said it was because no one else considered them to be so honorable.

Judge Gantry said, “Mrs. Boone, as lead counsel, you have filed this motion, so you have the burden going forward. How many witnesses do you have?”

Mrs. Boone stood and replied, “Six or seven.”

“You may proceed.”

“The defense calls Dr. Carmen Stoop to the stand, Your Honor.”

Dr. Stoop rose from the front row, walked through the gate in the bar, and stopped at the witness stand where she raised her right hand and swore to tell the truth. When she was seated, she pulled the microphone a bit closer to her mouth and smiled at Mrs. Boone. She gave her name, address, and said she was the Superintendent of the Strattenburg City School District, a job she had held for the past eight years.

Dr. Stoop was highly regarded and commanded respect. The city was proud of its school system, and she got most of the credit for its success.

Mrs. Boone walked her through a series of questions about the standardized tests: the reasons behind them; how long they had been in place; changes that had been made; challenges they posed; problems they had created. Dr. Stoop admitted that she was not convinced the tests were the best method to measure the academic progress of the students. She admitted, frankly, that she preferred other methods, but the state had passed a law requiring the tests. The tests were tied to state funding, and if Strattenburg declined to participate, which it had the option to do, then it would lose a lot of money. Limiting the discussion to the eighth grade, she described the results for the three middle schools over the past five years. East Middle had always lagged behind the other two, and this had been a major concern of the school board. Yes, the teachers at East were put under pressure to improve the scores or the school would face penalties.

Dr. Stoop was a veteran who was smart and calm. She knew what she was talking about and was quite candid. Theo and April watched and listened with rapt attention. Theo was especially proud of his mother. She moved around the courtroom in complete control and with total confidence. He had never seen her in a courtroom before, primarily because in most of her cases the courtrooms were closed to the public.

She asked about the most recent round of tests, and Dr. Stoop explained that the results were good overall, top ten percent in the state, with the exception of East Middle. However, even there, the scores showed an impressive improvement.

“Did the rise in scores at East raise any suspicions in your office?” Mrs. Boone asked.

“Not at first. We were thrilled with the results when we first saw them, but after looking closer we began to have a few doubts. We decided to look into some of the individual test results.”

“What did you find?”

“A higher number of erasures. A lot of the eighth graders seemed to have chosen the wrong answers initially, then, after erasing them, somehow managed to pick the right answer every time.”

“Can you give us an example?”

“Yes. At your request, I brought a couple of the test results. I believe you have them.”

Mrs. Boone walked to her table and reached for a file. She handed copies to Jack Hogan, Judge Gantry, and to the witness. Dr. Stoop explained that the first document was the score sheet for an unnamed East eighth grader, and it showed the answers for twenty math questions. The student at first missed half of the problems, then he or she erased seven of the original answers and recorded the correct ones. “Seven for seven was a red flag,” Dr. Stoop said. As the red flags piled up, she and her staff began to realize they might have a problem.

“How many eighth graders were tested at East Middle School?” Mrs. Boone asked.

“One hundred and eighteen. We began checking all of them, and the problem was unfolding when I received the anonymous letter. It came from a ‘concerned citizen’ and it really upset everyone. It was specific and mentioned the names of two eighth-grade teachers who allegedly changed scores.”

April reached for Theo’s hand and squeezed it until he could almost feel bones crunching.

Mrs. Boone handed copies of the letter to Jack Hogan and Judge Gantry, then asked Dr. Stoop to read it aloud. When she did, April flinched and seemed to hold her breath.

When she finished, Mrs. Boone asked, “What was your reaction to the letter?”

“Well, we were stunned, to say the least. I met with our school board attorney, Mr. Robert McNile, and we decided to immediately conduct a thorough investigation, one that led us to the five teachers.”

“Nothing more at this time, Your Honor.”

Judge Gantry looked at the prosecutor and said, “Mr. Hogan?”

Jack Hogan stood, walked to the podium, and politely said, “Thank you, Dr. Stoop. Now, I would like you to explain the bonus system that applies to some of your teachers.”

“Certainly. It’s not a good system and not one that I favor, though we really have no choice. It was implemented by the state, and we have no say in the matter. Basically, it provides for merit-based pay increases of up to five thousand dollars for teachers whose students improve dramatically on the the standardized tests.”

“What’s considered a dramatic improvement?”

“There is a formula that is hopelessly complicated, but, generally speaking, if the entire eighth grade shows an overall improvement rate of fifteen percent from the previous year, and fifteen percent of the class lands in the top ten percent for the city, then the teachers qualify for a bonus. Other factors include the teacher’s experience and number of college degrees. Again, I don’t like the bonus scheme. All of our teachers are underpaid, and it seems silly to reward one small group.”

“Would you agree that these five teachers had a financial reason to change test scores?”

“Frankly, Mr. Hogan, I cannot speculate as to their reasons.”

“Thank you, Dr. Stoop. Nothing further at this time, Your Honor.”

“You are excused, Dr. Stoop,” Judge Gantry said. “Call your next witness.”

Mrs. Boone stood and said, “Mr. Paul London.”

Theo knew his parents were taking a chance. They planned to put all five defendants on the witness stand and have them discuss their roles in the scandal. In doing so, the teachers would admit to doing things that were wrong. They would say that they deserved to be punished, but the punishment should not come from the criminal justice system; rather, it should come from the school board. They would be fired as teachers. Their professional careers would be over; their reputations damaged; their lives seriously damaged if not ruined. They would probably never teach again. But, they did not deserve to be tried, convicted, and labeled as felons. By being completely honest about what they had done, perhaps in the end they might win favor with the judge.

Paul London was an impressive witness. He had taught for twenty years and won every award the city offered. He loved the classroom and his students loved him. He had a master’s degree and for the past ten years had been working on his doctorate. He took full responsibility for changing the test scores. He had recruited the other four teachers to join him; it was all his fault.

Why? Well, it had begun a few years back when he grew tired of seeing his students fall short on the standardized tests. He changed a few scores to help his students, then a few more. Many of the kids at East, his kids, were from lower income families, and they didn’t have the same opportunities as other students at other schools. It was frustrating to watch them fall short on the standardized tests that were unfair to begin with—and be labeled slow learners.

When Mr. London described his students, he did so with great compassion, and eloquence. His testimony became a dramatic performance, one that captivated the courtroom. He looked at Judge Gantry and said, “How can you compare a student with only one parent who lives in a tiny apartment with a student with two parents and grandparents and private tutors when necessary? How can you compare a student whose parents speak little or no English to a student whose parents have college degrees? How can you compare a student whose father is in prison to a student whose father is a doctor? How can you compare a student who had nothing for breakfast with a student who ate too much for breakfast? How can you compare a student who started preschool as a three-year-old to a student who arrived here too late for kindergarten?”

The courtroom was still and silent. Judge Gantry nodded and said nothing. No response was expected.

Mr. London sneered at the idea that the teachers were cheating for extra money. He said, “My salary now is almost fifty thousand a year, after twenty years in the classroom, and I’m expected to spend a chunk of that buying supplies for my students. I even buy food for them. A few extra bucks in bonus money is not going to help me or the other teachers. That’s a ridiculous accusation. We never thought about the money. We were just trying to help our kids. That’s all.”

When Mrs. Boone sat down, Jack Hogan rose and asked, “So you admit to changing test scores?”

“I do.”

“And you admit to doing this with the other four teachers?”

“I do.”

“And you admit to knowing there was the possibility of financial gain for you and the others?”

“I do, yes, sir.”

“I have nothing else at this time, Your Honor.”

A conspiracy was a group effort to do something wrong, and Theo realized that Paul London had just admitted, under oath, to being part of a conspiracy. The question would be: Was the “wrong” they conspired to do really a crime? If Judge Gantry believed their efforts were driven by a desire to collect bonuses, then they would be treated like criminal defendants.

After Paul London’s performance, Theo doubted anyone could really believe the teachers’ motives were driven by money.

The next witness was Emily Novak, a twelve-year veteran at East Middle School and one of the two April had named in her letter. Not long after she stated her name and address, she broke down and started crying. She pulled herself together, but for the next fifteen minutes was on the verge of more tears. One of her favorite students was a young girl from a bad home, a place where she was always in danger. She had been mistreated by various relatives and abandoned by her mother. She felt safe at school and considered the teachers to be her protectors. For the girl, school was more about physical safety and a stable environment—in other words, survival. Learning was not as important. She fell behind in every class, and Ms. Novak spent hours with her trying to catch up. When the tests were given, the girl had just been placed in a different foster home. Not surprisingly, her scores were terrible. Ms. Novak altered some of her answers, but the girl was still placed in Remedial. She quit school halfway through the ninth grade and disappeared. Ms. Novak considered herself a failure for not doing more to save the girl, but at least she tried. There was no excuse for changing her scores, but it was important to look at the scandal from the view of the teachers.

When she started crying again, Theo looked at April. She had tears in her eyes, and she was shaking her head. She whispered, “I feel perfectly rotten, Theo.”

Two hours passed quickly as they listened to the five teachers admit their wrongdoing and give their reasons. At 4:30, Judge Gantry called for a fifteen-minute recess. Theo and April stayed in their seats. “What do you think, Theo?” she asked quietly.

“I don’t know but I’m worried. All five have admitted their guilt, so there’s no way they will ever go to trial. If Judge Gantry allows the criminal charges to stand, then the best they can hope for is some kind of plea bargain.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means they’ll plead guilty in return for a light sentence.”

“But they’ll still go to jail?”

“Not always. For crimes that are not that serious, ones that do not involve violence or large amounts of money or defendants with bad records, they sometimes work out a deal where they are required to pay a fine and put on probation for a few years. If they screw up again, then they go to jail. But they will always have a criminal record.”

“They seem like such good teachers.”

“Yes, they do.”

When the courtroom was settled, Mrs. Boone walked to the podium and began: “Your Honor, we’ve heard the honest and sincere testimony from these five defendants. They have all admitted wrongdoing. They are remorseful beyond words. They are professional educators who allowed their emotions to lead them into bad decisions. They have already been punished by being suspended from the classroom, by facing the likelihood of losing their jobs, and by the damage to their careers and reputations. What good is more punishment? What good comes from allowing these five excellent teachers to be chewed up by our criminal justice system? If you allow these charges to go forward, each of the five will be forced to hire lawyers, at great expense, with money they don’t have. Each will face the humiliation of a trial and more public attention. Each will run the risk of going to jail. Jails and prisons are for criminals, Your Honor, not for schoolteachers.”