The Monolith Murders

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The Monolith Murders Page 7

by Lorne L. Bentley

“But she didn’t display that characteristic to your officers?”

  “No, not overtly, in fact she was busy taking courses in our educational room most of her free time and she rarely communicated with my officers. But whenever she did, her communication took on an almost submissive tone. My officers knew that was artificial; but since she didn’t give them any trouble and was responsive to all their commands, it didn’t matter. To us, a forced cooperation from a prisoner is pragmatically as good as the real thing.”

  “I thought your institution was short on funds, so how can you afford to provide courses to your inmates?”

  “First of all, we have to prepare our prisoners, many who will be released someday, with some type of training which will make them ready to deal with the outside world; otherwise they will return to their criminal ways shortly after their release. Also, we have volunteer instructors from the high schools and local colleges. The cost to our institution is minimal.”

  “But Donna was never to be paroled; those were the terms of her confinement. Why allow her to take any courses at all?”

  “Because the courses seemed to agree with her; she was highly intelligent and she could easily get bored. The courses stimulated her. In my judgment, bored prisoners are much more dangerous than those we keep busy. It was purely a mutual thing. She was a model prisoner; and while she took those courses she was never combative. And, of course, she did not have to be confined to our most expensive maximum security area as a troublemaker.”

  Corn continued, “Unfortunately for us, if she had been kept in our higher security area she would not have found it so easy to escape.”

  “But she was a killer who seemed without remorse,” Fred argued. “Wouldn’t that element alone justify putting her into a more secure area?”

  “Lieutenant, all of our women have committed major crimes; but we just don’t have the money to provide full security for each and every one of them. This is a state institution and it’s wholly dependent on the generosity of our legislators and governor for state funding. Cutting the prison budget has always been low lying fruit to our state’s politicians, especially now.”

  Fred nodded.

  “With limited resources, we have to be selective as to who we put into our most secure areas, and generally it’s those women who have been violent with either our guards or other prisoners. It’s a zero sum game, because if we increase the security for one, we have to decrease it for another. Donna never made that threshold.”

  The warden continued, “Please remember that overall this is a secure prison; and if you took a look at our exterior safeguards, you would know that it is virtually impossible for any of our prisoners to break out.”

  “But one did,” Fred corrected.

  “Yes, of course, you’re correct. I wish I could unring the bell but . . . well, it’s actually worse than what you know. Donna broke out with another person. Her name is, believe it or not, Jane Doe. I suspect Donna was the brains behind the breakout because Jane’s just not that intelligent. Besides, Jane worshiped Donna and would do anything for her.”

  “How did they break out?”

  “Somehow Donna had gotten hold of a weapon.”

  “You mean the type fashioned out of soap?” Fred asked.

  “The guards thought so, until Donna killed two of our guards to prove that it was real and deadly. She got through our series of steel doors and that was it—she was gone.”

  She interrupted her story, remembering she had not been very polite—“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, would you like a cup of coffee?”

  “No, tea would be much preferred.”

  The warden used her multi-buttoned intercom and said, “Nancy, please bring me two cups of tea.”

  In not more than a couple of minutes an over-weight, middle aged woman badly in need of a dentist, dressed in a bright pink jumpsuit, entered the office with a steaming cup in each hand.

  After she left, Fred asked, “This is a maximum security institution, but that woman seems to have a lot of freedom...?”

  “Oh, no worry, she’s a trustee. Even though all of our prisoners have all been convicted of major crimes, at some point in time for many of them, their sentence will be over. Our prisoners only become trustees when they have six months or less remaining in their sentence and have consistently demonstrated good behavior during their term of incarceration. If they unsuccessfully tried to escape during their trustee status, they would face a significant increase in their jail time. With that consideration, very few would want to jeopardize their freedom for a few fewer months in jail. They know the tradeoff wouldn’t be worth it. So, Lieutenant, to answer what you might have been thinking, Donna could never have been a trustee.”

  “Tell me about the gun that Donna obtained; where did it come from?”

  “We wish we knew. We’re having a hard time answering that. We tried to check all of the visitors that she had over the past three months. But we—ah, we had a problem.”

  “And that was?”

  “See these red eyes, Lieutenant, that’s what I’ve been wrestling with. All of our prisoner records are put into our main frame computer system; but somehow, the sector that had the visitor information in it has been somehow erased. I had a computer expert here all last night; about an hour before you arrived he told me he couldn’t retrieve the information that we wanted. So I’ve been trying to get whatever information I can out of the guard’s memories that had processed visitors. It’s early yet, but so far I can’t identify who recently visited Donna or Jane. One guard thought he remembered that a man visited Donna about two weeks ago. But he has been unable to provide a good description and he can’t remember his name. He admits he may have confused the visitation with that of another prisoner.

  “Another guard recalled that Donna had a female visitor about six months ago. Again he could not provide any type of description of her.”

  “What happened after Donna and Jane escaped? Did they have a getaway car?”

  “We think so, and in that respect we’re working with the local police. Once a prisoner escapes, the responsibility for that prisoner shifts to the local police who have complete jurisdiction in the area outside the prison. But since we knew about the escape almost immediately, we informed the local police within a short time of what happened. If you noticed the terrain around here, you would realize it would be difficult to get away on foot.”

  “So if they used a car they must have had an accomplice on the outside. It’s likely that same person also provided the weapon to Donna.”

  “That’s what I believe, since no one near here has reported a stolen car.”

  “I assume you hit a dead end when you checked into Jane’s visitors as well?”

  “Yes, its same problem we had in Donna’s case except Jane did have a boyfriend who, strangely enough, was serving in the male section of the prison much of the same time that Donna and Jane were here.”

  “Is he still there?”

  “No, his term was up three weeks ago.”

  “So was he by any chance a trustee?”

  “I believe he was.”

  “As a trustee, wouldn’t he have more access around the prison than either Donna or Jane? I checked into this institution before I came down this morning; both the men’s and the women’s prisons share much of the same grounds, correct?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant, it’s another major savings effort by our state government. Of course, the male prison has a different warden and they have their own set of rules.”

  “Is there a common recreation area for both the women and male prisoners?”

  “Yes, in a way. The two are in the same general area but there’s a fifteen foot chain link fence separating them with razor sharp wire on its top.”

  “So it’s possible that Jane’s boyfriend got the weapon from a visitor and then gave it to Jane or Donna through or over that fence?”

  “Well, yes, I guess that’s a possibility.”

  “It’s just a thought.”<
br />
  “A good one, Lieutenant, I’ll check it out as best I can.”

  “By the way, have the police interviewed Jane’s boyfriend?”

  “They tried, but he’s no longer at his address. Who knows, he might even be with Donna and Jane.”

  “Can you give me a picture of Jane, her boyfriend and a recent picture of Donna? And by the way, do you have a fax that can transmit them to my station? We’ll include that information on our all points.”

  “Sure, can do—anything else?”

  “Yes, you mentioned that Donna took some classes; do you recall what they were?”

  “I believe she completed a vigorous 120 hour computer course and an advanced English course as well; and, oh yes, she took some type of medical course.”

  “Did you use a single main frame for both the instructional computers and one for your prison files?”

  “Again, I know what you’re thinking, Lieutenant. They were contained in the same mainframe, but it was compartmentalized so there was no way that the prisoners taking the computer classes would be able to get into the other area.”

  “No way for most prisoners, Warden. But Donna doesn’t fit into the category of most. She’s highly opportunistic and intelligent. If she puts her mind to it, I believe she can do anything including breaking into your fail-safe computer system. Think about it; and if you can come up with anything else that might help, give me call and I will do likewise. One final question, Warden, do you know anything about Donna’s family?”

  “No, according to our records both her father and mother are deceased.”

  Fred left the prison sure that somehow Donna had erased the segment of the computer dealing with the identification of visitors; and knowing her, the authorities would never be able to retrieve that information again.

  Chapter 14

  Fred took his convertible top down for his ride back to Sarasota. He wasn’t sure the visit had been helpful but at least he had two new descriptions and recent photos that might help him locate Donna. As he merged from the east to west I-10 to I-75 he floored his accelerator, seamlessly blending into the southbound traffic. He maintained seventy miles an hour all the way back home. The warm humid Florida wind shot pleasantly through his hair, and a few persistent bugs found a final domicile on his teeth. He temporarily forgot about Donna and her threat to him and Maureen. He was experiencing the incomparable joy of being in an open convertible on a balmy day. He passed by the rolling soft grassy contours and dales of Ocala; he watched graceful horses galloping carefree through green meadows contained by a seemingly endless flow of white fences. With the car’s top down, he had an unobstructed view of the day’s azure sky and its floating cotton clouds above. He was gradually beginning to have a promising love affair with his used Miata, and he needed to harness the moment. Bonds in life are hard to come by, and one must take advantage of them when they appear.

  * * *

  While Fred was on his way back to Sarasota, in an RV park near Sarasota, Donna was engaged in energetic sex on a park trailer’s well-worn sofa. Across from her, seated on an equally dilapidated love seat, was a securely bound Dr. Anderson. Jane Doe sat uncomfortably next to him. Donna had no compunction about murder, and she had none about modesty or free love either. Her male partner was in the process of removing Donna’s bra when Jane cried out, “How long do I have to watch this shit, and how much longer are we be going to be trapped in this rat hole? I never got my puppy or my gold badge. You promised, Donna.”

  Donna had little time for fools and to Donna, Jane Doe was in all respects a fool. Donna forcefully pushed the heavily panting lover off of her.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.

  “I have to take care of something—hold your horses, Polish.”

  Donna walked to a pull- down bar with a single drawer nestled at the bottom of it. She said to Dr. Anderson, “Do you think I’m a good shot?”

  He said nothing.

  She said, “I asked you once, I won’t ask again, do you think I’m a good shot?”

  He said, “Yes . . . I don’t know . . . who the hell cares?”

  Donna opened the bottom drawer and grabbed her 45 caliber revolver. “Well, since you don’t give a damn, and I really am a good shot, let me prove it to you.” She aimed her pistol in the direction of the doctor and fired.

  The bullet missed the doctor, but it found its directed mark in the middle of Jane’s head.

  Her lover jumped up and almost fell over; his pants were still down at his feet. “What in God’s name did you do?” he yelled.

  “Just getting rid of complaining excess baggage,” she responded.

  “But, for God’s sake, she helped you escape, she was your best friend in prison; how the hell could you have done that?”

  “Polish, listen, her value was over. Ever since she helped me get out of prison, she’s done nothing but complain. Besides, the cops know what she looks like; so if she was captured she would have turned me in.”

  “No way would Jane have turned you in; she adored you.”

  “She wouldn’t have turned me in on purpose, but the cops would be able get anything out of her that they wanted; she was so stupid that if brains were gas, she wouldn’t have enough in her to power an ant moped around a marble. She deserved to die.”

  In unison both the doctor and Donna’s lover said, “Jesus!”

  The doctor said, “If I operate on you and re-introduce that damned device, I know that you would get rid of me soon afterwards as well. What would be my value in your keeping me alive? Once Jane’s usefulness to you was over you got rid of her.”

  Donna rebutted, “No, you’re wrong; after you implant that baby in me, there will be no reason to kill you. Because with its power, I will become unstoppable and neither you nor anyone else will be a threat to me.”

  “But you were stopped before.”

  The expression on Donna’s face soured. “That’s only because a dumb cop got lucky and had expert assistance. That won’t happen the next time.”

  Donna’s lover interrupted the conversation, “Now what in hell do we do with the body?” pointing to a lifeless Jane Doe.

  “No problem, we’ll get a shovel and take her further out route 70 towards Arcadia. There’s a deserted farm about ten miles out with no houses near by. I found out that the place has been in litigation for two years; it makes for a great quiet grave site. By the way, did you get the computer equipment I asked for?”

  “Yes, I still don’t know why you need it; but I put it in the bedroom.”

  Donna’s unenthusiastic lovemaking had ended, and not too soon for her. She said, “I have to go somewhere on an errand, I’ll buy a shovel on the way.”

  “Donna, it’s dangerous for you to go out in public. Why don’t you let me go instead?”

  “It’s personal, Polish.”

  “Why do you continue to call me Polish, when you know damn well that’s not my name?”

  “You fool, it’s because of your deep refinement and sophistication.”

  In truth Donna called him Polish simply because his shoes were always shiny. Her real name for him was highly insulting; and for the moment she needed him too much to lose him with an accurate but disparaging description.

  He reflected on Donna’s comment. I did go to the opera once, he thought. Of course I fell asleep, and I couldn’t understand in this great country why they sang in a foreign language; but I did go which is more than I can say about most people. Actually, Polish ain’t a bad handle for me. Polish smiled in contentment.

  Polish realized that, most likely, Donna had delayed in going after Fred because she was worried someone could identify her if she ventured out of the trailer park too often. After all, her photograph had been broadcast on virtually every news channel both day and night. He had constructed a plan which would take care of Fred once and for all. Donna would be finally pleased.

  * * *

  Donna’s destination was going to be a secret from Pol
ish. No way am I going to let this fool know what I hid over four years ago, she thought. I wouldn’t even trust him with a hundred dollars, let alone a million. It’s my rightful inheritance, she thought; or at least it’s what I earned staying with that bitch of an aunt for so long.

  Chapter 15

  Fred went directly to his office when he returned to Sarasota. He briefed Jim on the high points of his visit. He was delighted to learn that the rash of burglaries had been solved during his absence. He could now concentrate totally on capturing Donna.

  Jim said, “At least we now have a good recent photo of Donna, her female partner in the escape, and the person who we now believe to be her male accomplice. I’ve already put out the expanded all-points and the media is cooperating fully by displaying her photo on all the local news stations.”

  Fred recognized that he needed outside help to capture Donna and he knew who it would be. He called CIA agent Debra Black, whom he had worked with earlier on the theft of the second extra-sensory device which had secretively found its way into Red China.

  Fortunately, she was in her office when he called.

  “Debra, this is Lieutenant Fred Harris, remember we worked on the Donna Lang case together?”

  “Of course Fred, how have you been?”

  “Good, but I need to ask a favor from you; how about meeting me at Joe’s Diner. You name the time.”

  “Okay Fred, I’m busy until three tomorrow. Is that all right?”

  “Fine.”

  * * *

  At the same time Fred was calling Debra Black, Donna was searching frantically for the spot where she had buried her fortune over four years ago. She had carefully selected a site next to the bicycle path which traveled from Sarasota to Venice, about ten miles distant. The site was owned by the county. In several areas it was bounded by copses of mature oak trees. The county’s ownership extended a quarter of a mile into the path’s adjoining property, so Donna figured it would never leave government hands unless the austerity drive of the current governor was so extreme that county land would wind up in private ownership. She had figured that, unless the bicycle path was widened, an unlikely event, the county would retain the wooded area as a permanent natural green border. But the current governor was so enamored with his holy grail of private ownership, anything was a possibility, she reasoned. Under the circumstances she had to retrieve her fortune as soon as possible.

 

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