distance, Vail saw Stephen Scheer approaching the officer who was maintaining the crime scene boundaries. She came up behind Allman and said, “You want to print something?” She did not wait for a reply; she knew the answer. “The offender missed something. He made some mistakes and we’re keying in on him.”
Allman’s gaze swung over to Burden, then back to Vail. “Really? I can print that?”
He missed the pun, the play on “key.” If he’d been listening closely, he would’ve realized I’m bullshitting him. Tough. She plowed forward, because she did want him printing the fact that the offender had missed something. “Yeah. Really. You can print that.”
“Thanks,” he said, scribbling on his pad.
“But next time don’t use my name in an article without asking first.”
Allman looked up and did a quick study of her face. “Just a guess… you weren’t happy with that.”
“You’re a word guy, so I think the proper adjective would be ‘pissed.’ Not as pissed as I was at your buddy, Scheer. But pissed.”
“Scheer’s not my buddy.”
“What do you know?” Vail said. “We’ve got something in common.” She forced a smile. “I don’t like him either.”
August 31, 1960
Leavenworth
MacNally ruminated on his escape attempt for another three months, until John Anglin was let out of segregation. During that time, he observed the institution’s physical layout, lighting, officer routines-anything that would give him an added advantage. He also spent time with Rucker and got to know him, as much as two inmates can when their only common link is that they’re both criminals sharing a cell in a maximum security penitentiary.
Anglin remained MacNally’s best option as far as determining if Harlan Rucker was someone who could keep his escape aspirations a secret; preventing their lips from flapping was a notoriously elusive trait that did not bless many inmates.
MacNally casually met up with Anglin in the recreation yard, out of view of the guards. They made small talk for a moment, sharing thoughts on their time in the Hole, before MacNally brought up the failed escape.
“Wasn’t your fault,” Anglin said. “Word is you really got into it. Sent Wallace to the hospital.”
“It was pretty convincing.” A damp sweat had erupted under his clothing, a factor of the stifling Kansas humidity. “Broke a bone.” MacNally lifted his hand, which sported a knob on the middle knuckle. “Kind of lost myself there, actually. Took out some frustration, I guess. Poor bastard didn’t know what the hell was going on.”
Anglin glanced around, clearly checking on the guards. “I know I said I’d help you out, but things’ve changed. Risky even standing here talkin’. They gonna think somethin’s up.”
“What do you know about Rucker?”
“Decent guy. In for dealing heroin and robbing a five and dime. Beat the owner pretty bad.”
“Trust him?”
“Much as anybody here in this place can be trusted. Really. I mean, we’re all fucking criminals, right?” He laughed. “But even if they break the laws out there, knock off or kill a straight john, in here it’s a different deal. You don’t want no trouble? Don’t rat out other cons. It’ll get you in the ass. Really-it will. That’s a good one.” He laughed again, this time louder. “Rucker’s never been a problem for me. Haven’t heard no bad shit ’bout him, neither.”
MacNally looked around, his eyes darting across the compound. He needed to end this and get away from Anglin before they attracted attention. Despite what Anglin had just said, there were rats in Leavenworth. Just like Voorhees offered him the chance to tip him off to stuff, other officers had presented the same deal to other cons.
He’d heard some prisoners talking in A-Cellhouse about guys they suspected of being informants. They decided to set up one of them, planting bogus information to see if the guards acted on it. They did-and there was no longer any doubt who their source was. The snitch was shanked in the right kidney the next morning during breakfast. No one saw anything-and by the time the medical staff tended to the inmate, he had bled out.
MacNally was not integrated well enough into the population to know who could be trusted and who was working with the officers. That meant he had to take on some risk. Rucker was lean and looked to be in pretty decent condition, so he could fill the role as well as anyone else he could choose.
“How well do you know him?”
“Good enough.” Anglin grabbed the front of his denim shirt and pulled it away from his damp skin, then flapped it a few times to generate a breeze. “Goin’ back to Florida. Both did time in the joint there. He won’t hurt ya.”
MacNally pursed his lips, then nodded. “Catch you later.”
He walked back to his cell and found Rucker reading a book. He sat down on the edge of the bed and, in a low voice that required Rucker to lean close to hear, he said, “I’m interested in gettin’ out of here. J.W. says you can be trusted. Interested?”
Rucker indicated he was-and MacNally outlined his plan.
After listening carefully to what MacNally laid out, Rucker cocked his head to the side. “Not bad.”
“The towers on the west wall are pretty far apart, right?”
“But there’s a guard in them,” Rucker said. “An armed guard. And no matter what they say, they’ve got orders to shoot to kill.”
MacNally nodded thoughtfully. “That’s why we’re not gonna let them see us. Now-along that wall, looks to me like the lighting’s gotta be kind of shitty. And because we’re so close to A-Cellhouse, the laundry, and the segregation building, I think this has gotta be the best place for us to get out-”
“Between the two towers? You crazy?”
“Think about it. We go at night, it’s pretty dark. The buildings are close to each other-and close to the wall. Tower five-you know which one I mean?”
Rucker nodded.
“It sits on the northwest corner of the wall and tower six sits on the southwest perimeter of the prison. And it's not attached to the wall. You see what I’m saying?”
Rucker’s eyes moved back and forth a few times, then he said, “Makes it easier for us to get out without being seen.”
“Exactly.”
The two men discussed it a while longer, at which point Rucker gave his approval-and appeared to be energized by the prospect of breaking out.
