and may testify if he so chooses.” Bobby wrote something on his legal pad. “Frankly, this is the quickest way to get the kid to talk.”
“What if he refuses to talk on the witness stand?”
“Very good question,” Bobby said like a professor pandering a first-year law student. “It is completely discretionary with the judge. If we put on a good case and convince the judge the kid knows something, he has the authority to order the kid to talk. If the kid refuses, he may be in contempt of court.”
“Let’s say he’s in contempt. What happens then?”
“Difficult to say at this point. He’s only eleven years old, but the judge could, as a last resort, incarcer-
j J r O
himself of contempt.”
“In other words, until he talks.”
It was so easy to spoon-feed Foltrigg. “That is correct. Mind you, this would be the most drastic course the judge could take. We have yet to find any precedent for the incarceration of an eleven-year-old child for contempt of court. We haven’t checked all fifty states, but we’ve covered most of them.”
“It won’t go that far,” Foltrigg predicted calmly. “If we file a petition as an interested party, serve the kid’s mother with papers, drag his little butt into court with his lawyer in tow, then I think he’ll be so scared he’ll tell what he knows. What about you, Thomas?”
“Yeah, I think it’ll work. And what if it doesn’t? What’s the downside?”
“There’s little risk,” Bobby explained. “All Juvenile Court proceedings are closed. We can even ask that the petition be kept under lock and key. If it’s dismissed initially for lack of standing or whatever, no one will know it. If we proceed to the hearing and A, the kid talks but doesn’t know anything, or B, the judge refuses to make him talk, then we haven’t lost anything. And C, if the kid talks out of fear or under threat of contempt, then we’ve gotten what we wanted. Assuming the kid knows about Boyette.”
“He knows,” Foltrigg said.
“The plan would not be so attractive if the proceedings were made public. We would look weak and desperate if we lost. It could, in my opinion, seriously undermine our chances at trial here in New Orleans if we try this and fail, and if it’s in some way publicized.”
The door opened and Wally Boxx, fresh from having successfully parked the van, catered and seemed
irritated that they had proceeded without him. He sat next to Foltrigg.
“But you’re certain it can be done in private?” Fink asked.
“That’s what the law says. I don’t know how they apply it in Memphis, but the confidentiality is explicit in the code sections. There are even penalties for disclosure.”
“We’ll need local counsel, someone in Ord’s office,” Foltrigg said to Fink as if the decision had already been made. Then he turned to the group. “I like the sound of this. Right now the kid and his lawyer are probably thinking it’s all over. This will be a wake-up call. They’ll know we’re serious. They’ll know they’re headed for court. We’ll make it plain to his lawyer that we’ll not rest until we have the truth from the kid. I like this. Little downside risk. It’ll take place three hundred miles from here, away from these morons with cameras we have around here. If we try it and fail, no big deal. No one will know. I like the idea of no cameras and no reporters.” He paused as if deep in thought, the field marshal surveying the plains, deciding where to send his tanks.
To everyone except Boxx and Foltrigg, the humor in this was delicious. The idea of the reverend plotting strategies that did not include cameras was unheard of. He, of course, did not realize it. He bit his lip and nodded his head. Yes, yes, this was the best course. This would work.
Bobby cleared his throat. “There is one other possible approach, and I don’t like it but it’s -worth mentioning. A real long shot. If you assume the kid knows—“
“He knows.”
“Ihank you. Assuming tnis, ana assuming ne nas confided in his lawyer, there is the possibility of a federal indictment against her for obstruction of justice. I don’t have to tell you the difficulty in piercing the attorney-client privilege; it’s virtually impossible. The indictment would, of course, be used to sort of scare her into cutting some deal. I don’t know. As 1 said, a real long shot.”
Foltrigg chewed on this for a second, but his mind was still