Rules of the Game

by Bruce Fitzpatrick

  "What's this for?" he asked.

  "What do you think it's for?" snapped Billings. "It's a recommendation for parole from this institution's warden -- me. When you present it to the Parole Board, it will be your passport out of here. Just get Ruffino to forget my indiscretions, and it's yours. Now, can I depend on you, or can’t I?"

  Jimmy Atkins turned from the window and faced Adrian. Adrian noticed scratches and welts on his face, and a bruise on his neck. What stood out most, however, was the stitched up gash on his forehead. "Mr. Billings just told you what you’ll get if you cooperate. Like to find out what'll happen if you don't?"

  "Don't threaten me again..." Adrian's voice was low-pitched, but tense with fury.

  "Then knock off the bullshit!"

  Adrian paused to collect himself. If he didn't, it might be Atkins who had something happen to him.

  He looked at Billings and asked, "What makes you think Carmine Ruffino will listen to me?"

  "Good question,” answered Billings, philosophically. “For whatever reason, he seems to have taken a liking to you. If nothing else, he looks out for you. I'm aware of the numerous visits you've made to his cell. He hasn't turned you away yet. Whatever his interest in you, he likes you. And that's all that matters to me."

  "I don't like how everyone involved with you wakes up dead."

  "Dumbass convict!" blurted Atkins. "You ain't made it out of here yet. You want to dodge bullets the rest of your time, or do you want to sail out of here free and easy three months from now? I mean, how dumb are you?"

  Adrian’s life had often depended on body language, and it appeared Atkins was ready to crumble. His tough-guy threats did little to hide his fear. He knew where he stood. He’d tried to move up to the big leagues and had failed. Now he stood naked and unprotected, with a target on his chest. The fact that he and Billings had come to him for help showed how desperate they really were. Under normal circumstances they wouldn’t have warmed up to him, even if they’d all been lying side by side, getting cremated together. He wondered how many men had asked them for breaks over the years, only to be turned down...

  Billings stood up and leaned forward on the desk. "We've laid our cards on the table, Mr. Cabraal. Everything's out in the open. What will it be?"

  Adrian looked down at the letter in his hand. As far as he was concerned, he had nothing to lose. He'd tell Carmine what they wanted, and walk away from the whole thing. What happened after that was up to the principals involved. For now, his only concern was Jennifer’s welfare.

  Finally he said, "All right, I'll speak to him. If he gives me a message, I'11 pass it along. That's the best I can do."

  As Adrian was about to leave, he paused to take a closer look at Atkins’s face. "Someone play hard to get?"

  "Nothing you need to worry about," Atkins sneered. "Even if it was, ain't nothin' you're gonna do about it."

  "Never say never..."

  **********

  Adrian was standing in one of the endless prison lines, waiting to exchange his laundry. He'd take Billings' peace offer to Carmine Ruffino once he'd decided how best to present it. The last thing he wanted was for Ruffino to think he'd gone over to the other side.

  At the front of the line a black convict began arguing with a white inmate who was doling out linens and sheets. The black inmate wanted an extra sheet; the white inmate sneered that the black never had sheets back home. Why the big deal now? All of a sudden, the entire line paired off into racial groups. Adrian hated it.

  Like everything else, the fight boiled down to race, not who was right or wrong. Football games on TV were racial; when a black player did something, the blacks cheered, when a white player did something, the whites cheered. Basketball and baseball were the same. He had long since given up watching professional boxing when a black fighter and a white fighter were matched against each other. Watching anything on TV was usually a bust, anyway; people watched, but no one listened because they were too busy screaming. Now it was about to happen again -- live and in color, at the front of the laundry line.

  He decided his laundry could wait. As he turned to leave, someone tapped him on the shoulder. He was relieved to see Joey Massaglia.

  "The man has some news for you. Come with me."

  "Good idea, these guys are getting ready to throw down."

  ********

  The Chiropractor motioned Adrian into the cell. Since he was expected, he thought nothing of it. But when he entered he found Carmine Ruffino wasn’t alone; he had a muscular, heavily tattooed visitor. Tony Gioia, his other bodyguard stood off to the side. Adrian stopped, abruptly.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Ruffino. I didn't mean to interrupt, I'll wait outside."

  With a wave of his hand Ruffino said, "Forget about it. Sit down, we're just finishing up." Turning back to his visitor he said, "So we understand each other, right? The guy we been talkin' about don't keep that shit around no more. If they bust the cell and my friend takes a fall because of it, tell that other guy to lie down so he'll be comfortable when he dies. Oh yeah, and thanks for helping' out with that other thing. I owe you for that. Have dinner with me tonight at my table, so's everyone else'll know it, too. See ya."

  The visitor and Tony Gioia left together, leaving Adrian, Massaglia, and Carmine Ruffino alone in the cell.

  "Adrian, it's getting to where I'm seeing you more than anyone else in here. You ain't gonna keep no low profile hanging out with me all the time. Sit down, we gotta talk."

  Adrian sat down, but said nothing.

  Ruffino regarded him briefly, and began. "People think that everything ends when they put a guy like me away. But they're wrong; only my body is in here. Some guys may get buried alive in these shit holes, but not me. You understand what I'm saying?"

  Adrian nodded respectfully. “I hear you.”

  "I can find things out," continued Ruffino, "things like what happened to your wife. And that's what I'm getting ready to tell ya. But before I do, I want to remind you that you're different from me, even though we're in here together. I can reach outside the walls. You can't. I hear about somethin' I don't like, I press buttons, and things happen. But you hear about something, there isn't much you can do about it except handle it like a man. I'm gonna tell you right up front, this is one of those times. You're gonna have to handle this like a man."

  Adrian's stomach was in knots, and growing tighter. Bile had formed inside him, and was slowly creeping up toward his throat, leaving a burning trail behind it. He didn't know if he'd handle it or not when Ruffino laid it on him. He sat in silence, holding his breath; his hands clasped before him on the table, his knuckles were white. He spoke softly and evenly to the man seated across from him.

  "No matter what happens, Mr. Ruffino, I appreciate your help. I'd rather know for sure than not, no matter what."

  "You got balls," he said, almost admiringly. Then he continued. "All right, here's what I got. They found your wife next to the highway, about halfway between here and Lawrence. Someone did a real number on her. They beat her face real bad, and it looked like someone tried to rape her. She—“

  “They what?” blurted Adrian. “Is she alive?”

  “Yeah, but she’s not in such great shape.”

  “I have to see her!”

  “No! What you got to do is sit down and listen, ‘cause there ain’t nothing you can do about this, except maybe make it worse for the both of you.”

  “She’s my wife!”

  “You want to hear what happened, or don’t you?”

  After breathing deeply to compose himself he said, “Yeah, I do. I...just didn’t expect this.”

  “Understood. An’ I got to be honest, it ain’t gonna get any better, so prepare yourself. After he beat her up the guy who did it threw her in her car and torched it. Thing is, with the fire and all, he couldn't afford to stick around long enough to make sure the job was done. If he had, he'd have seen her crawl back out of the car. She was sprawled about twenty yards away when it blew. A
t least that's where the cops found her when they stopped to investigate. She must be some kinda tough broad."

  "But she's alive?" Adrian asked, his heart in his throat.

  "Yeah, if you can call it that. She's in the ICU over at University Medical Center. But she ain't outta the woods yet, my friend. She got more tubes and hoses stuck in her than a fire truck. The cops thought she was dead when they found her."

  Adrian was stunned. He didn't know what to think. It wasn't the worst -- but the worst could still happen.

  "Give me the name, Mr. Ruffino. Give me the name..."

  "Slow down, you can't do anything right now. Besides, I gotta tell you one last thing, and believe me, it's a real kicker."

  "What's that?"

  "She was delirious on the way to the operating room, and the nurse told my friend she kept mentioning a name. It was 'Atkins.'"

  Adrian's mind flashed back to his meeting with Atkins. "So that's how his face got messed up..." he muttered.

  "Whatta ya mean?" asked Ruffino.

  "Atkins and Billings called me to the office earlier for a talk, and Atkins's face and arms were scratched up like road maps. Now I know why."

  "Yeah, now you know why."

  "They called me down there about you, Mr. Ruffino."

  His interest was suddenly piqued. "Oh yeah? For what?"

  "They think I have your ear, so they asked me to talk to you about making a truce."

  "Is that right? They wanna be pals?"

  "Yes, but that's not going to happen, Mister Ruffino." There was a hardened edge in Adrian's voice.

  The old man frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "Wait here, I’ll be right back. I have something for you."

  **********

  When he returned a few minutes later, the murderous look on Adrian's face prompted Ruffino to post both Massaglia and Gioia inside the cell with him.

  "Dispense with the mystery Adrian, and tell me what's going on," Ruffino said. He sounded impatient. Adrian wondered if Ruffino might now be worried himself.

  "Like I said,” he began. “I have something for you. I didn't know what to do with it before, but I do now." Adrian removed the micro cassette recorder from his pocket and placed it on the table.

  "Listen to this," he said, "then make your own decision."

  Adrian hit the play button and the recording made by Atkins and Billings began to play. As he listened Ruffino's face turned to stone. The tape had not yet finished when he turned it off. When he spoke, his voice was chilling.

  "Where did you get that?"

  "In the dentist's office," Adrian replied. "I grabbed it right after I set off the fire alarm."

  "That was you who did that?"

  "Yeah, I was in the outer office, listening. When I saw what they were up to, I set off the alarm to distract them."

  "Do they know you were there?"

  "No, I was hiding. I went there looking for you after I heard Billings had changed your appointment. They had already approached me, so I figured they were up to something."

  "And they don't know it was you?"

  "If they did, I'd be dead by now. Thanks to Joey, I'm not. And you, too."

  "You did a hell of a thing here," Ruffino said, shoving the cassette recorder in his pocket.

  "These are the guys who want to be your pals," Adrian said.

  "Would you want 'em for your friends, Adrian?"

  "No way."

  "Neither would I." He paused for a moment, as though reaching a decision. Then, “These people don't know what power is. They think it's all over when they put a guy like me away. My power is still out there, just as strong as it ever was."

  "Except out there you don't have to put up with guys like Billings and Atkins."

  "Hey, I don't have to put up with 'em in here, either. That's why I'm gonna reach outside the walls and press a few buttons."

  Adrian didn't want the conversation to go there, so he changed the subject. "I want to thank you for finding out about my wife."

  "Hey, you've done me a turn or two, especially with this,” he said, patting the tape recorder. “We’ll call it even. Now get going so I can do what I have to do."

  ********

  Adrian had been ordered to stop by Billings' office on his way to work the next morning. Billings had arrived ahead of him, so he knocked and went in.

  "I take it you've spoken with Mr. Ruffino?" Billings asked anxiously. Billings' usual persona as master of his domain was gone. Adrian was amused by the respect and the urgency in Billings’ tone. As he had said, everything was out in the open.

  Under other circumstances, Adrian would have enjoyed the role reversal. But his only concern was to deliver his message and disengage as quickly as possible. Ruffino had told him what to say; now all he wanted to do was say it and be gone.

  "Yes, I have," he answered.

  "Well?"

  "He figures nothing came of it, so nothing needs to be done. No harm, no foul. But he wants things quiet again, same as before. And he wants to make it clear that you and he and Jimmy Atkins aren't going to be opening presents under the tree together on Christmas morning. He let you off the hook, and expects you to stay away from him and his. Cross him again, and there won't be any place on this planet that'll be safe for you. He wants you to understand that."

  "Yes, absolutely," said Billings, visibly sagging with relief. "Tell him he won't have to worry about a thing while I'm in authority."

  Adrian noticed that Billings was breathing rapidly. Profound relief had replaced abject terror. It amazed Adrian how the reins of power weren't always where they appeared.

  "I'll do that," Adrian said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "I'm sure he'll be glad to hear it. I'm sure Mr. Atkins will be, too."

  "Yes, yes, he will," said Billings. He’d forgotten all about Atkins. Self-preservation was the order of the day, and he had put the Head of Security on a back burner.

  Adrian didn't wait for Billings to issue his customary dismissal. "That's all I was told to say, so I'll leave. All things considered, I’d say you're a lucky man."

  The comment seemed to irritate Billings, and thrust him back into character. The crisis had passed, and now it would be business as usual. "You might consider me lucky, Mr. Cabraal, but I'd rather call it masterful. I'm adept when it comes to mental gymnastics. Actually, you're the lucky one."

  "How's that?"

  "If you hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you wouldn't have that recommendation I gave you. Enjoy your parole."

  Adrian nodded, then turned and left without comment. If Billings knew the full extent of that comment, he’d have been scared to death.

  Alone behind closed doors, a mask of sheer hatred clouded Billings' face. For the first time in his twenty years of working behind the walls, he had been at the mercy of a shark whose jaws, and whose teeth, were bigger than his own.

  ********

  Jennifer lay in bed, a devastated portrait of bandages, IV’s, bruises and abrasions. She felt weak, and lethargic. Worst of all she felt soiled, a stain on the human landscape. Never the victim of sexual abuse or incest, nor having ever been beaten by Adrian or any other man, the shock and outrage of the barbaric assault administered by Jimmy Atkins was beyond her ability to comprehend. Despite that he hadn’t raped her, what had happened was the sum total of every injustice, every violation, and every indignation she’d ever heard of. She couldn’t imagine how she’d ever confront Adrian with it. Worse, she couldn’t imagine trying to explain it to Andy or her family. There had been thoughts of suicide, but they had passed, leaving her alone with her despair. Any thought of the future was beyond her, and her immediate past repulsed her.

  Her ponderings were interrupted when a forty-year old man in Orderly’s greens, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers entered her room. Though the scenario seemed normal, the man himself did not. He looked out of place. It wasn’t his appearance that didn’t fit; it was his demeanor. He didn’t have
the presence of someone who delivered flowers or worked in the health care field. He seemed quietly brutish, and the manner in which he carried himself was reminiscent of how several of Adrian’s old friends – the ones who made her nervous - had carried themselves. Unable to move, she watched him place the flowers in front of her within easy view. Even in despair, she had to admit they were beautiful.

  Then came a moment of primordial fear, of sheer terror and helplessness, bringing with it a new wave of suicidal thoughts. She felt as though she had died and had been plunged into some deep personal abyss for reasons she would never understand. What had she done to bring this on?

  She watched in horror as he leaned close to her, only to be stunned by the gentleness of his words. “These are from your husband and a friend of his. They’re sorry for what’s happened to you.” He then gently patted her on her shoulder, and stood by her, saying nothing.

  She experienced a moment suspended in time. Someone unknown to her had acknowledged he plight, her suffering, and her indignation. Though the memory of this seeming infinitesimal event might remain with her the rest of her life, she could do nothing but look away in shame, anger and despondency.

  Tears filled her eyes as her gaze silently drifted toward the window and the world beyond.

  The Man quietly nodded, and took his leave.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Jimmy Atkins sat at the bar, cigar in one hand, beer mug in the other. He was busy staring at the shapely waitress who was walking past on her way to the bar to notice the heavy cloud of smoke and the stench of stale beer and whiskey that filled the room. The glow from a dozen beers made her even more desirable. He grinned drunkenly. That's what he liked about Saturday nights; he could drink all the beer he wanted, stare at the pretty women, and listen to as much country music as a man could ever want. After that, he'd ramble out to his 4x4, set the automatic pilot for home and be on his way. Best of all, he could sleep off his hangover, then get up just in time to watch Kansas City kick New York's ass.