Four Walls

'Yes.'

Ciccone rubbed his stubble-covered chin. 'Okay, as long as we're just talking Washburne, I'm all right with that.'

'Thank you,' Mac said, trying and probably failing to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

As Ciccone took his seat, Mac asked, 'A week ago today, you supervised the distribution of medication in C Block, is that correct?'

Shrugging, Ciccone said, 'Sounds right, yeah.'

'Was medication administered to Malik Washburne?'

Ciccone nodded and started fidgeting with his hands.

'Do you remember what the medication was?'

'Honestly, I don't remember what he takes. I'd have to check the roster. I know he only had one pill though.'

'And he took it?'

'Sure, like always.' Ciccone shrugged, still fidgeting.

'Describe the process, please.'

Rolling his eyes, Ciccone said, 'Went like usual. The nurse gave him the meds, then gave him a glass of water. He put the pill in his mouth, he took the glass, he swallowed the water.'

'You're sure?'

'Course I'm sure, I do this at least once a week, sometimes more.'

'And Washburne took his meds?'

'Absolutely.'

Mac made a few notes in his notepad and then said, 'All right, Officer, that's all I needed to know. Thank you.'

Getting up, Ciccone said, 'No problem, Detective. Always happy to waste my time with you. Sure you don't wanna ask me anything else? I got a great story about how the cons brushed their teeth two weeks ago.'

Smirking, Mac said, 'No, Officer, that'll be all.'

As Ciccone left, Mac looked up at Ursitti. 'Next I need to talk to Officer Bolton.'

Bolton was summoned and took his seat. 'What can I do for you, Detective?'

'According to the roster, you supervised the administration of medication for C Block six days ago.'

'Sounds right, yeah.'

'Did you administer Klonopin to Malik Washburne?'

Leaning back in his chair, Bolton looked up at the ceiling. 'Honestly, Detective, I don't remember if it was Klonopin or not. I can't keep track. I'm pretty sure he got what he was supposed to get, though.'

'And he took the meds?'

'Sure.' Bolton shrugged.

'He didn't try any of the usual tricks?'

Bolton laughed at that, glancing at Ursitti. 'Nah, he wasn't that stupid. It's usually the new guys and the really dumb ones that try the bullshit.'

'So Washburne took his meds six days ago?'

'Far as I remember, yeah.'

'Thank you, Officer.'

Next up was Flack's friend Sullivan. A smile broke out on his baby face as soon as he came in and recognized Mac. 'Hey, Detective Taylor. How's the investigation going?'

'Well, half of it's going fine. Detective Flack is arresting Jack Mulroney for Vance Barker's murder.'

'Ain't gonna be sorry to see that asshole go.' Sullivan took his seat, then leaned forward, his shaggy blond hair flopping into his face, and talked in a whisper. 'Hey, listen, Detective, you're a friend of Donnie's, right?'

Realizing Sullivan wanted to keep this conversation between the two of them, he leaned forward and said, 'Yes.'

'I've known the guy since we were kids, but-' He hesitated. 'Look, the guy's not takin' his meds. The man was in a bomb explosion a year ago, and he's actin' like nothin' happened. That ain't healthy.'

Mac was hardly in a position to lecture other people about how they dealt with post-traumatic stress disorder. That was for the department therapist. Then again, Mac knew Flack's opinion of department therapists.

The embarrassing part was that Mac hadn't noticed that Flack wasn't taking his Percocet, and it made him wonder what else he'd been missing lately.

Mac leaned back and spoke in a normal tone. 'I'll see what I can do about that personal problem of yours, Officer,' he said for Ursitti's benefit, 'but it's actually the inmates' taking of medication that I'd like to talk to you about now.'

'Shoot.' Sullivan slapped the table with his palms and then let them rest on his lap.

'Five days ago, you supervised Malik Washburne receiving his meds.'

'Yeah, that's right. He takes-uh, Zoloft, I think.'

'Klonopin, actually.'

Sullivan snapped his fingers. 'Right, Klonopin. Anyhow, yeah, he took it.'

'What was the procedure?'

Blowing out a breath, Sullivan said, 'Nurse takes out the pill, hands it to him, he takes it, she hands him a glass, he drinks it, down goes the pill.' He shrugged. 'The usual.'

'He didn't try to palm the meds or anything like that? Hide it under his tongue?'

'Nah, Washburne wasn't that kinda guy. He was a cop, he knew the drill.'

'Okay, then. Thanks, Officer.'

After Sullivan left, Ursitti said, 'Okay, Detective, you wanna explain yourself? I assume you're gonna bring in everyone on that list.'

'No,' Mac said, standing and hoisting the clipboard, 'I think I've got everything I need. At most, I'd only need to talk to'-he gazed down at the list-'Officers Schuster, Moody, and Gibson. See, I already talked to Officer Andros-he's the one who supervised Washburne the day he died, and I already got his story.' Looking up at Ursitti, he handed the lieutenant the clipboard. 'That's why I know that Officers Ciccone, Bolton, and Sullivan were all lying just now.'

Ursitti's eyes grew wide. 'Excuse me?'

'They might have told the truth, but you were in the room, and they didn't want to admit that they were complicit.'

'Detective Taylor, what the hell are you talkin' about?' Ursitti put his hands on his hips. His eyes were blazing.

Mac let out a breath. 'Malik Washburne was a devout Muslim. He converted in part because Islam proscribes taking mind-altering substances such as alcohol-and prescription drugs.'

'Yeah, well, my wife's Jewish-goes to temple every Saturday-but she also likes her bacon in the morning. So what?'

Shaking his head, Mac said, 'Washburne took that restriction seriously. Remember, he was an alcoholic who was in jail because he fell off the wagon. Someone like Washburne would've been adamant about not taking any mind-altering substances.'

Ursitti frowned. 'So what're you saying?'

'Call Officer Andros in again.'

'What, you're not gonna tell me?'

'Give me a few more minutes, Lieutenant, and it'll all make sense,' Mac assured him.

Ursitti glared at Mac but got on the radio and summoned Andros.

While they waited, Flack came into the room, hands in his pockets. 'Mac, I got Mulroney all good to go. You done here?'

'Not yet. You go ahead, Don, I need to finish this up.'

'What, without me? C'mon, Mac. Washburne's name goes on my record. If you have something cooking-'