The Complete Bragg Thriller Box Set

by Jack Lynch

  TWENTY-TWO

  The really hard part started then. I had to go back up and let Warden Thompson know that his chief assistant was the one who’d arranged for a couple of killings and was trying to set up a dope ring inside the prison. I was passed on through to his office and closed the door behind me for another private conversation. He still had the personnel jackets out and I showed him Shellbacher’s and pointed out the relationship between the deputy warden and the wife of the high school coach in Claireborn. It helped my side some that Sergeant Findley had phoned down trying to reach me and left a message for me to call back. I did that from the warden’s office. After I listened for a few minutes I asked the sergeant to repeat his information for Warden Thompson. I handed across the receiver without another word.

  Listening to Findley, Thompson seemed to grow a little older. Findley would be telling him that Liz Reynolds and Hack Carson had both opened up, plain and simple. They didn’t care about having legal counsel, not right then. They had talked and talked and talked. As Sergeant Findley had pointed out, they weren’t a pair of professional criminals, but just a couple of local people who together had made a colossal mistake, and their torrid romance on the side wasn’t really a part of it, but it maybe made possible the part that was a mistake.

  Shellbacher was a forceful man. He had told his brother-in-law that his entire career in penology was about to be blown away, but that Hack Carson could save it if he’d be willing to just rid the world of a rotter who had killed other people in his own day, meaning J. D. Cornell out at Lake Appleton. There also was something in all this, Findley said, involving a mess the young coach had gotten into as a kid. Shellbacher had bailed him out back then, and Cornell’s death had been a very big favor returned. Carson had to frame Buddy Bancetti as well, but that was just to be a temporary situation. It was Hack’s idea to employ his girlfriend in the ruse, but the plan had been for her to present herself to the sheriff when Shellbacher gave the word, and to say she’d been with Buddy the afternoon of the killing but had been afraid to tell about it earlier for fear of getting involved in the murder investigation. Or some other cockamamie story.

  When Findley asked Hack how Liz was going to explain Buddy’s wallet and underpants at the murder scene, the young coach said he hadn’t figured that out yet. He’d been hoping his brother-in-law could suggest something.

  Carson also said Shellbacher had phoned him after he knew I was coming to Claireborn to sniff around. Hack was to figure out a way to discourage me. That led to the sorry scene in the dance hall parking lot, with Hack and a few members of his football team. And Shellbacher had phoned again, that morning, after the assault on the older Bancetti in the activities building had failed. He flat-out told the young coach I had to be done away with. Carson denied trying to shoot Angel, but Findley didn’t necessarily believe him, because by then the coach was terrified of becoming implicated in the Cornell murder and might have learned that Liz suspected her sister had seen her that afternoon with Buddy.

  Findley said Carson also had told him that Shellbacher had made arrangements with Buddy’s attorney, Wilstock, to stall on trying to get the kid out of jail. The deputy warden and the attorney had a relationship that went back a long way. Despite his wind-blown manner, Wilstock was a busy criminal lawyer in counties throughout Northern California. Sometimes his clients would end up in San Quentin. Wilstock would ask the deputy warden to try to smooth the way for them. One hand washes the other.

  It was the sort of small town chain of events that can occur and make a rent in the fabric of the community. Hack’s wife, the pregnant redhead who was Shellbacher’s sister, apparently had known nothing about any of it. She was under sedation and I didn’t even want to think about what her life was going to be like in the future.

  By the time he put down the phone, I could tell Thompson didn’t want anything more to do with me. But he listened to the rest of the story that Beau Bancetti had told me, about Shellbacher’s grand idea for setting up a behind-the-walls marijuana therapy clinic. And no matter what his personal feelings were toward me or anybody else, I could tell that Thompson believed it. Maybe he’d heard a couple of whispers himself that had started him to wondering.

  “You know,” I told him, “something else comes to mind. When you were talking on the phone to Bancetti a little bit ago, right after his brother had spoken with him, you told Beau something he said he didn’t believe. What was that?”

  “I told him I had not authorized the attempt to storm them this morning.”

  “I’ll bet I can guess who did authorize it.”

  “Deputy Warden Shellbacher.” The warden stared at a corner of the ceiling. “I wish that you had never come into my life, Mr. Bragg. I’m sorry, but I had to get it off my chest.”

  “I feel about the same way, Warden, or at least I would if I figured somebody else could have come in here in my place and gone up to Claireborn and stirred up things enough to get to the bottom of what really was going on, and maybe save those two women hostages in there along maybe with your professional ass. And notice there are a couple of maybes in all that. Remember that those two women are still inside there, and I’m the one who’s once again going to march in there like a little soldier and bring them out, because I’m about the only fellow around here these days who old Beau trusts. He told you he didn’t believe you, and he sure God doesn’t trust your deputy warden. When I left there just a bit ago I told him to close and bolt the door behind me. He’s not going to open it again until he hears my voice.”

  “I’m going in with you,” he said flatly, letting me know he wasn’t any slouch himself.

  “I don’t want you to do that, Warden.”

  “I don’t give a good goddamn what you want, Bragg. This is still my prison.”

  “Your prison, but my orchestration,” I told him. “You can’t be sure of what Shellbacher might have set up with one or more of those guards waiting behind the barricade. He told Cooper to shoot Bancetti when he tried to come out Friday. Cooper won’t tell you that, but he told me, and I believed him. No, Warden, I want you to sit right here and send down word for Deputy Warden Shellbacher to come up here for a little closed conference with you. And I want you to replace that entire team of guards on duty behind the barricade. And then, and only then, will I risk my tail going on back inside and bringing out the two women, along with the inmates.”

  Thompson had leaned back in his chair and was staring at me thoughtfully. He knew what I said made sense.

  “You know, Bragg,” he said softly, “Shelly is a good deputy warden. He made a very large error when he decided to try to set up a drugstore inside. But I can see how he might make that sort of mistake. The way things are in this prison. He spends a lot more time inside there than I do. Or you do.”

  “I can understand it too,” I told him. “In fact, I think it was a fine idea, myself. But his part in the killings, even if he didn’t pull the trigger or wield the wrench, is something the man has to answer for, it seems to me, no matter how grand a deputy warden he is. Of course, he’ll probably never stand trial for any of that.”

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged. “Not much of what I’ve figured out about Shellbacher’s role in it could be presented in a court of law, especially if his brother-in-law gets a lawyer who’ll tell him to quit spilling his guts. Who’s going to stand up in court and talk about Shellbacher? Guard Cooper? The lawyer up in Claireborn who was stalling on helping out the younger Bancetti? And as for the big marijuana scheme, seems to me Shellbacher might be able to squeak by with a little internal discipline. Something that could be kept within the Department of Corrections, maybe.”

  “You can be that generous to the man, knowing he tried to have you shot to death this morning?”

  I gave him my crooked grin. “There are two ends to this tunnel, Warden. I’m actually a little sympathetic toward Beau Bancetti. I think it was a dumb idea for him to try breaking out of here, but having spent a while arou
nd his kid brother, it’s easy to see why he would try. But none of that would have happened without Shellbacher lighting the fuse. So it would hurt my sense of justice some to see Beau and the others go back and stand trial over a bunch of charges growing out of the escape attempt. I think that could be handled internally as well. I suppose if Beau had to go stand trial, I’d probably feel compelled to testify for the defense, and talk about this and that. There’s no way on God’s green earth I could keep Shellbacher’s name out of it if that happened.”

  The phone on his desk rang. I stirred in my chair. It reminded me somehow of the Saturday morning call from Casey Martin. It wasn’t a good-news ring, and when the warden’s face tightened I knew I was right. He mumbled something, disconnected, then dialed a number. When there was no answer he tried dialing another. Nobody answered there either.

  “What is it?” I asked, when he hung up.

  “Trouble in the yard,” he told me, getting out of his chair and heading for the door. “You wait here.”

  Trouble in the yard could have meant in the big exercise yard, but it was dark now, and there wouldn’t be any inmates exercising. I grabbed my crutches and hustled out after him.

  The outer gate to the sally port was rolling open when I caught up with him and touched his arm.

  “My people?” I asked. “The activities building?”

  He gave a curt nod.

  “Then let me come. Remember, I’m the only one Beau trusts.”

  At least he could weigh things and make a fast decision, this warden. “All right.”

  The gate clanged shut behind us. This time there was no delay opening the inner gate.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. One of the tower guards just reported trouble in the yard.”

  He trotted off toward the activities building. Other officers had joined him, including Lieutenant Daniels. I gimped along behind as best I could. There were milling men outside the windows at the far end of the building. They were outside the room Beau and his party had occupied. They’d hung blankets over the windows to block the view from the guards outside. But the windows weren’t there any longer. I saw a guard wearing a gas mask climb through the shattered opening. Our little band made its way down there, moving alongside the building for cover, just in case.

  The men at the window casings were jabbering. They were a confused bunch. The warden spotted a masked guard with sergeant stripes on his khaki sleeve and pulled him aside.

  “What happened in there?” the warden demanded.

  The man was holding a shotgun at port arms. He spoke gibberish through the gas mask, then realized it, and tore it off. His face was sweaty. “I don’t know what the hell’s going on, Warden. Half a dozen officers from inside just came trotting up a few minutes ago, masked and wearing body armor. One of them told us to move back, they were under warden’s orders. I thought they meant you, sir. A couple of them bashed in the windows. Another man fired gas canisters inside. Then the man in charge motioned and they all went in there.”

  “Where is Deputy Warden Shellbacher?”

  “I haven’t seen him, sir.”

  The warden turned to Lieutenant Daniels. “Get those men out of there. Find out what happened.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Daniels took a police whistle from his pocket and blew rapid signals. The warden was breathing heavily. He bent forward, hands on his knees. He held the position for several seconds. It seemed to calm him. I might have been up on the moon. He straightened back up when the lieutenant rejoined us.

  “It’s still pretty confusing, sir. The men were acting under the deputy warden’s orders. They were told to go in and break the siege. But when they went in, the room was empty. A bathroom off the main room is also empty. There’s an adjoining room, but that’s locked from the inside. The men figured it would take several seconds to force that. They didn’t want to try it until they had further orders. Then we got here.”

  I surprised myself with a yelping sort of laugh. The warden looked at me sharply.

  “Beau had it all figured out,” I said. “There aren’t any windows in that inner room. Beau doped out that if Shellbacher made a last-gasp effort to get him, it’d be through the windows. So everybody must be inside that inner room.”

  The warden turned back to Daniels. “Get the fans going. Get that outer room aired out as fast as you can.”

  “They’re already doing that, sir. They opened the corridor door and the fans are turning.”

  “Find the men who took part in this thing. Have them wait for me over at the administration building. Did you see the deputy warden?”

  “No sir.”

  The warden grunted and started back toward the front of the building. I started to follow, but he wheeled around and yelled at me. “You wait here!”

  I almost saluted him, but turned back and leaned against the side of the building with a little prayer that Beau had kept his wits about him. The yard lights seemed to be getting through to my brain. It didn’t matter whether I kept my eyes open or closed. There were pinpoints of light stabbing into me either way. I think I must have dozed some, propped up against the wall on the crutches. Wherever I was, I was brought out of it by Lieutenant Daniels.

  “Mr. Bragg, sir, you all right?”

  I opened my eyes. Most of the other officers had left the area. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “The warden would like you to come now.”

  I grunted. He led me back to the front of the activities building and inside. I heard sirens in the vague distance. The warden was down near the end of the corridor, talking to another group of officers. The barricade had been rolled over alongside one wall. Fans were still blowing air out through the shattered gap made by the men who’d broken into the room. I glanced inside. Shards of glass coated the floor. Two armed guards were posted on either side of the door to the inner room where the hostages had been kept.

  The warden finished his conversation and turned to me. “Why don’t you try to make contact with the people inside. I identified myself and tried it, but there was no response. Either they’re waiting for you, or they’re all dead in there.”

  “That’s a pleasant thought,” I told him. “Where’s Shellbacher?”

  “I don’t know. The men say he wasn’t around after those men went through the windows and found the room empty.”

  I turned toward the locked door, then turned back to the warden again. “What did he say to the officers, to get them to try coming in from outside that way?”

  “He told them that you’d fucked up, Bragg. He sent Jones over to the prison clinic, then he spent a while on the phone, then he told the men the inmates had increased their demands to an unacceptable level, and they would have to be flushed out.”

  The warden lowered his voice. “The men won’t come right out and say so, but I think they were told to kill Bancetti.”

  That was all I wanted, to hear the warden acknowledge it. I swung over to the doorway and motioned the two guards out of the room.

  I rapped on the door and yelled Bancetti’s name and identified myself. If there was a reply I didn’t hear it. I went to the corridor doorway. The warden was waiting just outside.

  “Have somebody turn off the fans, will you?”

  He signaled an aide, who cut the power. I went back to the inner doorway.

  “Beau? It’s Peter Bragg. I was over in the administration building talking to the warden when this went down. It was Shellbacher’s idea again. He ordered the break-in. He’s dropped out of sight since then. The warden has men searching for him. The warden’s here too. Do you want to speak to him?”

  The lock on the door made a little click. The door was cracked open a notch, then Bancetti opened it farther and handed me the pistol, butt first.

  “No,” he said softly, “I don’t want to talk to the warden. Not right now.”

  I turned and gestured toward the warden. He came over and pushed open the door and crossed to the two
women, who were standing with glazed expressions over along one wall. He put a hand on each of their shoulders.

  “I’m Warden Thompson. How are you?”

  “We’re all right,” the older woman told him in a choked voice.

  He led them out of there, slowly and gently. Louise Dancine was crying silently to herself. Neither of them seemed to recognize me this time. Who could blame them?

  The sirens I’d heard must have been ambulances. Two teams of medical attendants were out in the corridor fussing over the just-released hostages. Peterson and Finseth shuffled past under escort. Bancetti was just behind them. I touched his arm and he paused.

  “When did you think to retreat back into that inner room?” I asked him.

  “About two minutes after you left. I asked myself what I would do next if I was Shellbacher, and you’d been right in thinking he wanted me toes-up at the county morgue.”

  I nodded. He continued up the corridor. The warden spoke for a few more minutes to the other officers, then started out and jerked his head to indicate I should accompany him. We went up the hallway without a word. We were all talked out with each other. We went out of the building and back across the grounds to the sally port. I could hear the ambulances moving out with Margot Smith and Louise Dancine. I felt as if I should have ordered up one for myself. We entered the dungeon and the door clanged shut behind us. The outer gate opened and we went through it. A few paces away, I stopped and held my breath until the gate clanged shut again. I hoped I never would have to go through there again.

  I started after the warden, but he’d paused to converse with another officer who’d approached. The officer was speaking in a low, urgent voice. And then I saw the lights off in the distance. They were on the TV mini-cams the news crews had. They were all bunched over in a nearby employee parking lot. By now the warden had turned and was looking across there also. I thought I knew what had happened without anybody having to tell me. The guard moved away and Warden Thompson looked around for me. I joined him.