The Lemonade Crime (7 page)

Evan looked around and felt as though he'd dropped into an alternate universe.

First of all, he was sitting on a basketball, which felt strange.

Second, here was his sister, acting like she was the leader of the free world. Jessie could sometimes be bossy at home, but Evan was used to seeing her on the sidelines at school. On the edge of whatever was happening on the playground. Eating quietly at a cafeteria table. Sitting with her hands in her lap at the all-school assemblies.

Suddenly she was the leader. And it was weird.

Evan stared at the twelve kids sitting in the jury box, and that was weird, too. If he looked at each kid, one at a time, all he saw were the faces of kids he'd known for most of his life. Nothing new. But when he looked at them all together, standing in the box that Jessie had made out of jump ropes, they looked different. Even Adam, his best friend in the world, seemed almost unfamiliar. They were the jury—the ones who would either hand him a new Xbox 20/20 or make him stand up in class and apologize in front of everybody. Suddenly, they didn't seem like the kids he'd known forever. They had turned into something much bigger.

Evan's eyes traveled across the courtroom: to the witnesses all standing together behind the line of the jump rope, to the audience waiting patiently for the trial to begin, and to David Kirkorian standing at his milk-crate podium.

And that was the weirdest thing of all. Every single one of the fourth-graders had shown up after school and put on a nametag. (Okay, so Malik had taped his nametag to his butt, but he was still standing in the witness box, ready to testify.) Everyone was waiting to do whatever Jessie told them to do. It was as if all of a sudden there was a whole new set of rules at school, and everyone—
everyone
—had agreed to follow them.

Even Scott Spencer was sitting on his basketball. He had his knees spread wide, and he was drumming a beat on the ball.
Chook-uh-ta-chook, chook-uh-ta-chook, chook-uh-ta-chook.
He had that look. That Scott Spencer look. The look in his eyes that seemed to say,
It's all good. It's all cool. It's all mine.

That was the thing about Scott Spencer. Somehow, some way, he always managed to spin things so that everything worked to his advantage. Evan remembered the time they were in first grade, playing in Scott's basement playroom. Scott's mom was at work. His dad worked at home, like Evan's mom did, but his office was all the way at the other end of the house, and it was soundproof ! Evan remembered how they used to play a game of seeing who could make enough noise to get Mr. Spencer to come out of his office. They practically had to set off a bomb to get him to come out!

So that day, they were playing pick-up sticks for pennies, betting a penny on every game. At first Scott was winning, and Evan had lost about seven cents. But then Evan started catching up, and then he was ahead, and Scott owed him eleven whole cents, which seemed like a lot of money back then. "Hey, let's get a snack," said Scott, and they could have gone all on their own to get something out of the kitchen, but instead Scott went to his dad's office and asked him to bring them something in the playroom. And of course when Scott's dad saw that they were betting pennies, he ended the game and made Evan return everything he'd won. "Betting isn't allowed in this house," he'd said. But Evan had thought to himself,
Losing, that's what's not allowed.

Evan looked at Scott. Evan wasn't a fighting kid. He'd only gotten in two fist fights in his whole life, and one of them had been with Adam, his best friend! Both those fights had been fast and furious, and then they'd been over. No hard feelings. Apologies all around. Everyone agreeing not to fight anymore.

Why couldn't it be that way with Scott? What was it about him that made Evan's blood boil? That turned one thing into another—a fight about some missing money into a full-blown trial by jury? Evan opened his mouth to say something to Scott—

Which is exactly when David K. picked up the gavel, banged it on the block of wood, and read from the top index card, "All rise! Court is in session. The Honorable David P. Kirkorian presiding."

perjury
(
),
n.
Purposely telling a lie in a court of law after taking an oath to tell the truth and only the truth.

"Will the lawyer for the prosecution please step forward?" said Judge Kirkorian. The defense lawyer, Scott's mother, still hadn't arrived, but they couldn't wait any longer. About half the jury had to be home by four o'clock.

Jessie stood up and addressed the court. She made her voice sound strong. "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, for my first witness, I call Jack Bagdasarian."

Jack walked up to the podium, and David told him to put his right hand over his heart and raise his left hand in the air.

"Do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?" asked David.

"I do," said Jack, standing straight as a pole.

"You may proceed," said David, turning to Jessie.

Jessie walked up to Jack. "Mr. Bagdasarian," she said. "Where were you on the day of Sunday, September fifth?"

"What do you mean?" asked Jack. "Is that the day Scott stole the money?"

"Hey! I didn't steal the money!" yelled Scott.

"Says you!" shouted Malik, and everybody began yelling.

"Call for order," Jessie hissed at David, who was just standing there, watching it all, like it was a movie on television.

David shuffled through his index cards until he found the right one. Then he banged the wooden gavel on the block of wood. "Order in the court! Order in the court! If you're not quiet, I will hold you in"—he looked more closely at his card—"contempt!" David waved the card and added, "That means you'll get sent home. And when you come to school on Monday, we won't tell you what happened, either."

Everybody got really quiet then.

Jessie turned to her witness again. "September fifth was the day everyone went to your house to swim," she said. "Can you tell the court what you remember about that day?"

So Jack told the story: They'd all been playing basketball on the playground—Evan and Jack and Paul and Ryan and Kevin and Malik—but it was really hot, and they decided they wanted to swim at Jack's house. So Jack had gone home to ask his mom if it was okay, and when he came back to the playground, Scott was there, too, so then they'd all gone back to Jack's house.

"And then what happened?" asked Jessie, pacing back and forth in front of the podium. She was holding a pencil and carrying her Writer's Notebook tucked under her arm. It made her feel more official.

"We played pool basketball," said Jack. "I've got one of those floating hoops, so we just goofed around and stuff."

"Did Evan swim in his own bathing suit or did he borrow one from you?" asked Jessie.

"I think he borrowed one," said Jack. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure he did. And so did Scott."

"So both Evan and Scott changed into borrowed bathing suits at your house. Is that correct?"

"Yep," said Jack, bobbing his head up and down.

"And where did they put their regular clothes when they went swimming?" asked Jessie, pointing her finger at Jack so that the jury would know she was getting to the good part.

"In my room, I guess. That's where everyone puts their shoes and socks and stuff at my house, 'cause if you leave anything downstairs, the dog gets it."

"So let me be clear on this point," said Jessie, standing directly in front of Jack. "Evan's shorts—and whatever was in his pockets—were in
your
room. And Scott's shorts—and whatever was in his pockets—were also in your room. Is that correct?"

"Yeah. I already said that."

Jessie turned to the jury. "I just want to make sure that everyone knows that fact. Evan's and Scott's shorts were in the same room." She turned back to Jack. "One more question for you, Mr. Bagdasarian. Did anyone get out of the pool and go inside?"

"Well, sure," said Jack, laughing. "I mean, jeez, we were drinking like ten gallons of lemonade and eating watermelon slices. You can't hold
that
in forever."

The courtroom burst into laughter, but David banged his gavel so loudly that everyone quieted right down. Nobody wanted to get sent home before there was a verdict.

"Did
Scott
go into the house?" asked Jessie.

"Uh-huh," said Jack.

"Did he go in
alone?
"

"Yeah."

"And how long was he in the house
alone?
"

"I don't know," said Jack, shrugging.

"Long enough to run upstairs and steal an envelope filled with money out of Evan's shorts?" asked Jessie.

"Sure," said Jack. "He was in there for a while. And I know he went into my room, because he came down dressed."

"Dressed?" asked Jessie. "Why did he do that?"

"He said he had to go, right away."

"But did he say why?"

"No. Just said he had to go."

"Did he leave in a hurry?"

"You should have seen him. He went tearing out of there. I don't think he even had both shoes on when he left."

"I don't suppose you happened to check his pockets before he left, did you?"

"Uh, no," said Jack.

"Too bad," muttered Evan. Jessie looked over at her brother. He didn't look happy.

"That will be all," said Jessie.

"The witness is excused," said David in his serious judge voice, and when Jack didn't move, he added, "You may step down."

"Step down?" asked Jack, looking at the ground.

"You may go back to the witness area," said David, and he gave Jack a look that made Jack close his mouth and do what he was told.

Jessie called up the witnesses one by one, and each boy said the same thing: Scott had gone into the house to use the bathroom, came out a while later dressed, and then rushed out the door. Hearing the story five times made it seem like it was the absolute truth.

Jessie was feeling good. So good, she decided to call Evan to the stand. She hadn't planned out any questions to ask him, but that didn't matter. Everyone liked Evan, and Jessie knew it was a good strategy to put a likable witness on the stand.

But when she said, "For my next witness, I call Evan Treski to the stand," Evan shot her a furious look. He walked up to the judge's podium like he was walking to the gallows. When he turned to face the court, he had both thumbs hooked in his back pockets, and his shoulders were hunched forward. What was wrong? thought Jessie. They were going to win!

"Mr. Treski," Jessie began. "Can you please tell the court where you were on the afternoon of September fifth?"

"We already know that!" shouted Taffy Morgan, who was sitting in the second row of the jury box. "Ask him something
different!
"

"Yeah!" shouted Tessa James from the audience. "Ask him where he got all that money from. That's what I want to know."

Ben Lesser shouted out the same thing: "Ask him that!" And Nina Lee echoed, "Yeah, ask him that!"

Slowly, Jessie felt her face turning hot. That was the
last
question she wanted to ask Evan while he was on the stand. If the jury found out that Evan had stolen that money from her—it would be all over. Some of the kids in the jury box started to chant, "Ask him! Ask him!"

"Order in the court!" shouted David. When everyone quieted down, he said to Jessie, "That's a good question. Why don't you ask him that?"

"He's
my
witness," said Jessie, "and I get to make up the questions." Jessie knew the rules: She was the lawyer, and nobody could make her ask her witness a question she didn't want to ask. "I'll ask what I want, and I don't want to ask that."

"What?" said Scott. "Have you got something to hide?"

"Leave her alone," said Evan.

"Yeah, leave me alone," said Jessie, looking from David to Scott to Evan.

"Fine," said Scott, crossing his arms and looking smug. "Don't ask him. I'll just have my mom ask him where he got the money."

"Your mom's not even here," said Jessie angrily. "And I bet she won't show up, either."

Scott jumped up to his feet and looked like he was going to take a swing at Jessie. "She will, too. She's just late, that's all. 'Cause she's a
real
lawyer, with
real
work to do. Not like you! You faker!"

"Order in this court, or I will throw you both out!" shouted David. He even stepped in front of the podium and swung his gavel over his head like he was going to bean someone with it. Then he turned to Jessie and said, "You might as well ask Evan the question, Jessie. He's going to end up answering it anyway."

And Jessie knew he was right.

She'd really made a mess of this. And she'd been feeling so good. So confident. So sure of herself.

"Mr. Treski," she said, "where did you get the money—the two hundred and eight dollars—t hat you had in your pocket on that day?"

You could have heard a pin drop—except that a pin wouldn't have made any noise at all because of the grass. But it was
quiet
in the court. Even the birds seemed to fall silent as if they were waiting to hear the answer.