“I can’t do that.”
She was telling me that not only could I do it, but that I must do it, or she would, … when there was a knock at her door. It was Tom Daniels.
“Yes,” she said as he stuck his head in the door.
“Hello. My name is Inspector Daniels.”
“Really? Your mother named you Inspector? How awful,” she said as she sat up in her chair. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. This was going to be good.
“No ma’am. My first name is Tom. I am the chief inspector of DOC. I can’t believe you haven’t heard of me.”
“Oh, I’ve heard of you,” she said and winked at me. “I’ve heard all about you. What can I do for you?”
Daniels jerked his head toward me like someone suddenly getting a whiff of a foul odor. “It’s a private matter. Can I talk to you alone?”
“No, I’m afraid you can’t. You see, the chaplain and I are having an affair, and since he’s my secret lover, I keep no secrets from him. So, he stays.”
My mouth dropped open-for two reasons really. First, I couldn’t believe that she would say that we were having an affair, just in case he might possibly think she was serious. Secondly, and more importantly, I knew that as the chief inspector he could give her a world of trouble if he wanted to. She was more than just a little confident. And that was more than just a little appealing.
“Whatever,” he said as he came in and took the seat beside me, careful not to look at me. “I’m looking into the death of inmate Ike Johnson. Is he yours?”
“Is he my what?”
“Is he your . . . Are you his classification officer?” he said, obviously frustrated and slightly tongue-tied. Anna’s beauty, along with her confident manner and sharp tongue, was too much for any man and most women.
“Yes, I am.”
“Can you tell me about him?”
“Oh, yes,” she said as if she were going to cooperate, which I knew she was not. “His name is Ike Johnson.”
“And?” he asked.
“And, what else would you like to know?”
“I would like to know whatever in the hell there is to know about the bastard so I can find out why he was trying to escape.”
“I honestly couldn’t tell you. I know of no reason why he would attempt to leave our happy little home here. Perhaps you should ask his pimp.”
“His pimp. Who is that, the chaplain?”
“I will speak with you no further if you say another disrespectful thing about the state’s finest chaplain.”
“Okay. Damn it, lady, all I need is a little information. Who is his pimp?”
“What you need are some manners. His pimp is an inmate named Jacobson.”
“What’s Jacobson like?”
“An inmate pimp. He pretends to be crazy, but he’s not,” she said, and then she was silent as she thought about it for a minute. “I say he’s not crazy, but what I mean is that he’s not crazy the way he pretends to be. He pretends to be loony. What he is, is psychotic. He’s dangerous. There are many people who have not lived to regret the fact that they allowed his crazy pretense to make them forget how really dangerous he is.”
“So, I should talk to him?”
“I think so, but then I’m not the chief inspector of Florida state prisons.”
“Did Johnson have any family on the outside?”
“Grandmother who raised him and an aunt that I know of.”
“No girlfriend?”
“He didn’t like girls, never has.”
“Faggot on the outside too?”
“If you are asking, in your own redneck way, if I am aware of a lover he would have tried to escape for, I am not. He did have four visits from a Don Hall when he first got here, but that’s been over a year ago.”
“Is there anything else you can think of I should know?”
“Yes, there is. Something very important.”
“Well, spit it out.”
“My brother, whom I love with all my heart, is gay, and I am offended by your assertion that he or any other gay man should be used for firewood.”
“Firewood? What the hell are you talking about now?”
She looked at me.
“The term
He stood without comment, withdrew a card from his pocket, and placed it on the desk in front of Anna. “This is an official investigation of a death within this prison. A death in which you are at least partly to blame. When you get tired of your little grab-ass games and want to help me figure out what the hell is going on here, call me. If you continue to refuse to cooperate or try to play more games, I will become a very big pain in your ass.”
“You’ve already done that. Maybe you could set some new goals for yourself.”
He slammed the door, and I felt a wide grin slowly spread across the width of my face.
“Tell me I was correct in assuming that was your ex-father-inlaw,” she said.
“None other,” I said, unable to keep from grinning.
“What an ass,” she said in disgust.
“He didn’t exactly get to see your best side either,” I said.
“I thought my ass was my best side,” she said with a smile.
“Not exactly what I meant.”
“I guess not, but he’s not going to see my best side. He’s not going to come within a mile of it. You two are working on the same case?”
“Actually, we are working together on it.”
“You don’t seem too together.”
“We are as together as we are going to get.”
“Now,” she said with a warm smile, “how can I help you solve this case?”
“What?” I asked. “What happened to it being bad for me?”
“Well, this time you’ll have me to help you, and I’m going to help you solve this thing before that obnoxious bastard does. So, how can I help?”
“Tell me all you can about Johnson,” I said.
She did.
“Do you know for a fact that Jacobson was Johnson’s pimp?”
“As much as you can know such things for facts. They were both assigned to me.”
“What was his job assignment?”
“Outside grounds,” she said, seeming not to catch how odd that was.
Inmates who worked outside of the institution did so because they were deemed to be a low escape risk. It had to do with their custody, their release date, and past history (had they ever tried to escape before?). It was a gamble, and it was the responsibility of their classification officer.
“Outside the gate?” I asked. “Are you sure? That can’t be right.”
“What do you mean?” she said. She must have been really distracted.
“I find it interesting that he works outside the gate and he tries to escape in the trash truck on his day off.”
The greatest risk and highest percentage of escapes occurred with those who were working outside the gate. Breaking out of the institution was difficult, but once you were outside, well, you had a chance.
“Nobody ever said they were smart,” she said. “But I see what you mean.”
