by Jack Lynch
“I’ll be double goddamned,” he told nobody in particular.
TWENTY-ONE
There was some talk that went on for a while in the rooms down the corridor. A raised voice or two. A difference of opinion. But five minutes later Bancetti told me I could come chat with him. The guards raised the barrier again and swung it open enough for me to get past it. Shellbacher touched my arm and I paused.
“Get those women out,” he said softly.
I gave him a look. “What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last day and a half?”
I went on down the corridor. I swung to a stop in front of the door. It was opened wide now. Bancetti was standing just inside, with Mr. Wumps sitting on one of his feet, his tail switching back and forth across the floor. Bancetti’s eyes were red and wet. I didn’t think all of it was from the residue of gas. Augie Finseth stood a little to one side, the 9mm pistol pointed vaguely in my direction, but not in a threatening manner. I leaned the crutches against the wall and took off my jacket and tossed it inside. Bancetti threw it in turn to Pork Peterson, sitting at the table. The big man went through the jacket slowly. He looked as if he’d had a lot of the starch taken out of him. Fatigue had taken its toll on all of them. Mitchell Tuck sat sleeping in the same overstuffed chair I’d seen him in the day before.
“Want me to leave the crutches out here?” I asked.
“Do you need them?”
“They help. The leg is numb. I worry about it giving out on me.”
“Better keep the crutches then,” Bancetti said.
I swung around and hobbled backward to where I was just inside the room and raised my arms. Bancetti gave me a quick pat search, then swung the door a little more closed and signaled for Finseth to keep watch.
“Buddy’s really out?” Beau asked.
“He’s out. And like I said, Aggie’s with him. How about letting me get them for you on the phone?”
“All right.” He gestured to it on the end of the table. I plugged the line back in and dialed the warden’s office.
Mr. Wumps opened his mouth wide and yawned. He was looking at Beau but his breath caught Augie Finseth, squatted down by the door.
“God almighty, Beau, get that animal away from here, will you?”
Beau snapped his fingers and led the dog around behind the table. I got the warden on the phone and asked him to put Aggie on the line. Beau looked at me questioningly. Then Aggie was there.
“Hi, Bragg here. I’m in with Beau and the others. I’d like him to feel a little more assured that you and Buddy are really here. I’m going to put him on and I want you to describe exactly what happened the last time we all were together…That’s right, just outside the walls.”
I handed the phone to Bancetti. He exchanged greetings, then listened. He nodded slowly. He could see just how it happened, his brother reeling back out of the sally port then going off to throw up. In a moment Beau brightened.
“Yeah, the dumb mutt’s in here too. Put Buddy on, will you?”
When his brother came on the line Bancetti turned toward the windows covered with blankets and spoke quietly. The rest of us looked off in various directions. Pork Peterson kept watch on me as I moved around to get a better look at Mitchell Tuck. His face was gray and hollow-looking. He was in bad shape. I wondered if everybody hadn’t already waited too long to help him. I went back around the table and sat on its edge, across from the big man.
“Tuck awake much?” I asked him.
Peterson shook his head. “Unconscious, mostly. Beau’s some worried.”
“I think he’s got good reason to be.”
Bancetti turned back toward the table and spoke in a more normal tone. “Okay, kid. No, that’s okay, forget about it. Just take it easy. Maybe we can visit later. What?”
Beau hesitated, then cleared his throat. “Everything’s cool, Warden. Yes, Bragg’s here, the dog’s here, half the fucking prison is in here. No, not yet. I have to talk to Bragg first…They’re okay. Honest. Both the women and the guard. Uncomfortable, like the rest of us, but otherwise fine. Let me go now. Maybe we can wrap things up. Just don’t try another dumb stunt like this morning.”
He listened quietly a moment longer. “I find that hard to believe,” he said finally. Then he hung up. He just stood there a moment, then stared across at me with a funny expression. I think all of them were about out of gas, just running on adrenaline.
“The last time I saw Angel Reynolds,” he told me softly, “she was a little girl. Just a little kid.” His face worked around some like he wanted to weep. He did the next best thing. He squatted down and hugged his dog. Then he got himself together and stood.
“You want to talk?” he said. “Let’s talk.”
“First things first. I heard what you told the warden, but I want to see the hostages.”
“You mean prisoners,” he corrected me.
I followed him over to the door to the next room. He opened it and let me step inside.
The two women were sitting on the edge of the cot where the injured guard had been when I was there before. The other guard, Jones, sat in a corner. He grinned when he saw me and gave a little wave of his hand.
“Kept telling these ladies they had nothing to worry about,” he said.
Margot Smith just slumped, but raised her eyes and seemed to be saying a little prayer. The woman who acted under the name Louise Dancine got to her feet with one of the most brilliant, wide-mouthed smiles I’d ever seen. She crossed the room and kissed me on the cheek.
“You beautiful, beautiful man.”
“Are you all right?”
“Grungy, exhausted, itchy and scared half to death,” the girl told me, “but yeah, we’re fine, Bragg. Just A-number-one fine.” She put her hands over mine, on the crutch handles, and squeezed.
“The warden said one of you screamed out earlier today.”
“That was something else,” she told me. “A couple of them got into a brief fight. I was frightened. But the honcho standing there in the doorway has been good about seeing we weren’t bothered.”
I nodded. “It’ll be a little while longer, unfortunately. There are some arrangements to be made. Things I have to talk to Beau about. Then the warden. But it shouldn’t be more than an hour or so.”
“Whatever you say,” the girl told me. She kissed me again, this time lightly on the lips.
I glanced down at the older woman. She still hadn’t said a word. “You okay, lady?”
She smiled and gave a vigorous nod. “I have loose bowels from fear, but I have a feeling they’ll tighten up some now. Go do whatever it is you have to do to get us out of here.”
We went back into the other room and Beau closed the door. He looked at me strangely. “I’m almost beginning to believe that you’ve really done it, Bragg. This isn’t some elaborate ruse. I think you did what you said you’d do.”
“To do with Buddy?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re right, I’ve done it. I’ve done that, at least.”
“Who killed the man at the lake?”
“Buddy didn’t tell you?”
“No, we didn’t go into that. He just told me about Angel.”
“Well, the same man killed them both, from the looks of things. He’s coach at the high school up there, a man named Carson. Hack Carson.”
“Don’t know the name. Is he in custody?”
“Yes. His accomplice in the first killing was Angel’s sister, Liz. But since Hack was dumb enough, or unlucky enough, to kill Angel, instead of me, the sister’s probably told the sheriff about the rest of it, by now.”
“Then what are we doing? I said if you got Buddy free, we’d release the prisoners and give ourselves up.”
“Can’t do that yet.”
“You don’t want us to surrender?”
“Not yet. I’d like to talk to you in private, but I don’t see…”
Beau shrugged and looked around. “Pork, you go into the can and shut the
door for a few minutes. Augie, give me the gun, and you go wait in the next room with the prisoners. Behave yourself and try to stay awake this time.”
The two men did as they were told. Beau turned toward his friend in the chair. “Mitch has been out for hours. Okay?”
“Okay. Now, I’m going to make this short. Somebody wants you dead, and I want you to try to figure out why.”
“Wants me dead?” He poked a thumb at himself.
“Yes. I don’t want to take the time telling you all the little things that led to this, but take my word for it. One of the guards who was manning that post at the door when you tried to get out of here Friday afternoon told me confidentially, after drinking a fair amount of liquor, that he was a little concerned for his career because he was supposed to have gotten a clear shot and dropped you. Not the others. You. It was a setup, Bancetti. That was behind the whole thing. That’s why Buddy was framed. To get you to do exactly what you tried to do. Only you were supposed to have been killed in the course of it.”
He sat down in one of the chairs with an amazed expression. “Bragg, I have learned to respect you. But are you sure?”
“About ninety-eight percent. There’s a sheriff’s detective up in Claireborn who might be getting the other two percent right now, with the help of some information I recently passed along to him. I even think I know the person behind it.”
“Then you’d better give me that much of a hint, because I do not have a clue. Another con here, serving time, you mean.”
“No, not another con. Deputy Warden Shellbacher. The warden let me go through the personnel jackets of some of the prison officers. I found out something about Shellbacher’s family that ties him to it.”
“What did you find?”
“He has a sister who lives in Claireborn. Her name’s Jessica. She’s married to the coach I think killed the man at the lake and Angel Reynolds. I think Shellbacher told him to get me out of the picture. I think he probably gave that order after the failed attempt to rush you people early this morning. It was a standoff again. His plans started to go to pieces when they didn’t kill you Friday afternoon. Things got worse when I went up into the country and started to learn things. But back to my original question. Why would he want you dead?”
Bancetti stared off into space. “That dumb son of a bitch,” he said quietly. “That stupid jerk. He thought I was a threat to him? Good God. How did he ever get to be deputy warden?”
“Tell me about it and make it snappy. We’re not out of the woods yet. Shellbacher is just up the corridor, directing the armed men at the barricade. He might figure he still has a chance to pull it off, if some other incident can be made to happen and he can kill you, and by now, probably me too. That’s why we can’t let the women go yet.”
He gave me another strange look and got out of his chair. “Did you know all this when you came down here a few minutes ago?”
“Yes.”
He whistled lightly. “I’m going to make you an honorary Cherub.”
“Terrific. Only that isn’t why I volunteered. The job still is to get those two women out of here. But I can’t do that now until I’m sure I can save your ass and my ass along with theirs.”
“How are you going to do it?”
“One thing at a time. Why would Shellbacher want you dead?”
He took a deep breath and looked at me with another expression of wonder. “I have narcolepsy. At least a form of it. I fall off to sleep at the drop of an eyelid. It doesn’t last long, and it doesn’t happen while I’m walking across the room or anything, but sometimes sitting down, I just go blank and doze for a bit. That happened one day when I took a break sweeping up an area where Shellbacher got into a quiet conference with another guard. When I woke up they were discussing this incredible operation, but I never would have squealed about it to anyone. In fact, I’m heavily in favor of it.”
“What kind of operation?”
“A prison dope ring. I don’t mean the hard stuff, like cocaine or heroin or any of that stuff. Shelly’s planning to bring in good-quality marijuana, and I can guess why. For most folks it’s a mellow experience, smoking marijuana. Doesn’t make you all feisty and want to do battle, the way liquor does with some guys. I think the deputy warden wanted to help calm the tension that builds up among two or three thousand assholes all crammed in here together with the prospect of having to spend the next several years like this.” He shook his head. “And just because I overheard that, he wants me dead?”
“Why not? You have his professional career in the palm of your hand. Of course that’s it.”
“But I wouldn’t have told anybody. Hell, I would have applauded the man if he’d asked me what I thought. I made that plain enough at the time.”
“He caught you listening in?”
“There was no catching to be done. Hell, Bragg, just because us Cherubs try to be model prisoners doing time doesn’t mean we don’t still have a hankering to swagger a little bit. After I’d gotten the gist of the setup, after hearing maybe five minutes of that conversation, I cleared my throat and walked right on past them with a big grin on my face. Even winked at Shelly on my way out. I wanted to let him know he had my wholehearted approval.”
“Now, that was dumb.”
“I didn’t think anything of it.”
“He probably went into cardiac arrest when he saw you.”
The stubby inmate shook his head. “I guess maybe it was dumb, if he wants to kill me for it.” He scratched his head sheepishly. “Well, what now?”
“You have to be willing to repeat that story to the warden.”
“What? Hey, no way, brother. Me a snitch? It’d ruin my reputation.”
“Don’t be a jackass, Bancetti. Forget about your reputation. In the past few hours I’ve put it all on the line for you. And now, what you call your reputation could cost the lives of you and me and those two women and the guard in there and your three buddies. Please spare talk about your reputation. You’ve got to back me up.”
He thought a minute, then nodded.
“Okay,” I told him. “I’m going back out. I probably should take the dog with me. “And let’s say one of the women. It will make things more believable with the warden.”
“You think he’ll believe you?”
“Hopefully, part of my story will be supported by whatever the sheriff’s detective in Claireborn has found out.”
“Okay. Let’s get it to-going.”
He rapped on the door to the small bathroom and Peterson rejoined us. He opened the door to the room where the women were. Finseth came back out and I went back in.
“We have to do this in stages,” I told the prisoners. “I’d like to take one of you women out with me. We’ll come back a little later for the others.”
Louise Dancine and Margot Smith exchanged glances. They shook their heads in unison.
“That’s no better than the last time you suggested it,” the young actress told me. “We came in here together. We went through this together. We plan to go out together.”
“Now look,” Bancetti said from the doorway, “it isn’t your place to decide that.”
“Calm down,” I told him. “It doesn’t matter, if that’s the way they want to do it. We’ll do it like last time. I’ll take the guard instead.” And then I had another bright idea. “And we’ll let the guard carry out your friend, Tuck. He needs more than a little first aid, from the looks of him.”
Bancetti nodded. “Good idea.” He pointed a finger at the guard, Jones, sitting along the wall. “Get going.”
I went into the next room and dialed the warden’s office again. I wanted him to meet us at the barricade. Somehow, Shellbacher had to be defused. But the warden had left his office. The duty officer didn’t know where he was.
“A snag?” Bancetti asked me.
I shook my head. “We can’t let it be. Just all cross fingers and pray. When we get out in the corridor, shut and bolt this door behind us. Don’t open it
again until you hear my voice.”
When guard Jones had Tuck in a fireman’s carry over his shoulder I went to the hallway door and yelled down the corridor to announce I was coming back out with one of the hostages.
“Prisoners,” Bancetti gently corrected me.
Shellbacher told us to come ahead. I got my crutches and left the room. Beau shooed out the dog and Jones followed. The door closed behind us. We moved up to the barricade. As we neared it some of the officers behind it began to whistle and clap their hands.
“Hey, Jonesy, way to go, buddy,” one of them yelled. Others joined in for a moment of elation at seeing their fellow officer haul himself through the opening at one side of the barricade. Two of the officers took the wounded Tuck. Another got on the phone, dialed a number and told somebody to get a litter team in there. Men were pounding Jones on the back and congratulating him. Shellbacher took me aside.
“I’m happy for the guard, Bragg. But what about the women?”
“It’s almost set,” I told him. “Just a couple of matters I have to clear up with the warden.”
“You probably can clear them up with me, right now. Then we could get the women out.”
He was staring at me with what I took to be a very cold gaze. Or maybe I was just into terror by then. I didn’t feel like a sissy because of it. Everybody runs out of gas sometime, and I’d about run out of mine. But I screwed up the best man-to-man, I’ll-take-care-of-it look that I could and told him, “It’s a family matter. Involves Bancetti’s brother. I’ve already mentioned it to the warden. He’ll see to it. Shouldn’t take but a few minutes.”
I turned my back on him and snapped my fingers for the dog to follow. He came along with a little yelp, as if this was about the most fun he’d had in years. And Lieutenant Daniels, thankfully, brought up the rear. It felt good having somebody between my back and Deputy Warden Shellbacher.
Crossing the landscaped area outside I almost felt like whistling. But in the sally port they told me the warden’s absence had been for just a quick trip to the men’s room. He was back in his office and anxious to see me. I took a deep breath and could feel the muscles in my back start to clench up again.
