Killing The Blood Cleaner (22 page)

TWENTY-NINE

The next Monday was for all appearances a regular work day at the prison with no sign that any disturbance had occurred. Jack was at his desk promptly at eight, with Tacy and a lightly bandaged Nurse Griggs preceding him at their posts. On his desk were neatly written reports showing that the three inmates who had been transported to the hospital had been returned to the prison. The daily Sick Call Report was also there with a mundane list of colds, stomach aches and the occasional cut. Jack began his daily paperwork as he watched Tacy from his office with a satisfied smile. Once in a while they would glance at each other, each thinking about the previous weekend’s activity. It was during one of these pleasant interludes when Jack’s phone rang. On the line was the Warden’s secretary, and her tone was not pleasant. “The Warden wants to see you right away in his office,” she crisply commanded.

“We are just about to begin sick call,” he began.

“He wants to see you now,” she insisted. Jack hung up the phone and walked to the door, nodding to Tacy that he would be right back. Once he arrived at the Warden’s office he found Mrs. Cooper standing behind her desk and cramming documents into the fax machine. “Go right on in. He is expecting you,” she said without bothering to turn and face him. Jack turned the huge brass doorknob and entered the Warden’s inner sanctum.

The Warden was seated at his large mahogany desk and was in the process of cleaning his .357 Magnum pistol which gleamed of chrome and oiled designer rosewood grips. He looked up at Jack, gave the pistol a last wipe with a chamois cloth and gestured for him to sit in one of the large leather arm chairs at the front of the desk.

“Dr. Randolph, I will start by saying that we are glad to have a doctor with your credentials and experience working with us. But as we both know, your being here stems from some of your own personal problems and the Judge’s desire to make sure that the prison maintains proper medical coverage. I had hoped that this would be a win-win situation for all of us. It may still be,” the Warden said slowly and clearly, looking directly at Jack. “I also know that except for the auto accident and Judge Valentino you would be a Buckhead doctor in Atlanta, not down here in Lester at the prison.”

“Yes sir,” Jack agreed.

“And I know a smart fella like yourself understands that down here you are on probation. You have to follow the rules or else you are looking at a serious situation,” the Warden stated factually.

“Yes sir,” Jack again agreed.

“And you know that this prison, myself, you, and all the employees of the prison operate under Court Orders from Judge Valentino. These orders were worked out and signed over a period of years and they control how we run this prison. You understand that?” the Warden asked.

“Yes sir,” Jack said, thinking of the set of two large binders in his office which contained the Orders. “I am very familiar with the Orders concerning medical. I have studied them carefully. I have looked at the rest of the Orders and I am generally familiar with them.”

“Then you will be quite familiar with the ones on the use of force on inmates to get blood samples,” the Warden said aggressively, leaning forward slightly over his desk.

“Yes,” Jack replied cautiously.

“I see from the Use of Force and Incident Reports of Saturday that you directed that force be used on inmate Kirk to take a blood sample. I say, directed, because security staff take the hit from the Judge if there is an inappropriate use of force. We had two officers indicted last year for excessive use of force,” the Warden continued.

“I felt that it was required because Kirk had, once again, committed a sexual assault against another inmate,” Jack responded confidently.

“And that inmate, the always reliable, Mr. Thompkins, recanted his allegations and refused a rape test. Am I correct?” the Warden continued. “And you had the officers use force and you took three blood samples from Kirk?”

“But Kirk threatened inmate Thompkins in my presence and then he changed his story and refused the rape test,” Jack blurted back. This caused the Warden to look up and begin to clean his glasses with the gun cleaning cloth.

“Now that little detail was not in my reports and gives me something to work with,” the Warden said, visibly relieved. “As I said, I got a Use of Force Report and an Incident Report from the officers today. Kirk wouldn’t give the officers a statement but he wrote me a letter complaining with a copy to the inmates’ lawyer, Arnold O’Berne, and the Judge. You are new at this little game. I don’t have a problem using force on inmates and especially Kirk, if it is necessary. But it has got to be done by the rules and the Orders and we can’t be retaliating against Kirk because he is a world class creep.”

“I feel like we did it appropriately. I watched the video about using force and I have studied the Orders on use of force concerning medical,” Jack replied mildly.

“Why did you take three samples?” the Warden asked.

“Just as a precaution, in case they were destroyed or lost. It would keep us from having to use force again. I believe Dr. Bridge did the same thing before,” Jack replied.

The Warden cocked his head slightly to one side and appeared satisfied with Jack’s explanation. “This sounds like an appropriate use of force. I had my doubts at the beginning. I will review the security videos from the Medical Unit and get back with you.”

“The security videos?” Jack asked meekly.

“Of course. We have greatly increased the video monitoring system since Dr. Bridge was killed. Now, when we have a disturbance all the cameras go on for the entire time without the red lights. We cut off the red lights on the cameras so it would appear to the inmates that they are not recording. That way they don’t destroy the cameras. It’s all digital, so we can store a huge amount of information without any tapes. It’s like an institution wide movie of everything that happened. I spent the morning with the videos of the take back of the library and law library. I could review it from three different cameras. It’s like being a fly on the wall,” the Warden said proudly as he pointed to a large black video screen on the wall, opposite the polished conference table in his office. “I’m sure these videos will save many an officer’s ass from some of the allegations we get around here,” he continued.

Jack blinked at the thought that his and Tacy’s actual asses might soon be on display on the Warden’s big-screen. Thinking quickly, he hoped to focus the Warden on the incident in question with the silent prayer that he would not take the time to review the entire day in the Medical Unit. “Yes sir, you take a look at that use of force from all angles. I felt the officers were pretty gentle with Kirk, and Kirk was very clear in his threat to Thompkins. It might be good to look at that part several times.”

After the Warden indicated the interview was over, and Jack got up from the arm chair, turned and exited through the mahogany door. He watched Mrs. Cooper retrieve an incoming fax from the machine and peer at it intently. “Another damn Court Order from Central Office, ordering us to move a bunch of inmates to Court in Waycross on two days’ notice,” she said with irritation. “The Courts order us to produce inmates and staff at some Courthouse. That requires officers and a van. The Court sends the Transfer Order to Corrections Central Office in Atlanta. They let it sit around for a few days and then they fax the Order down here to us with a cover sheet telling us to produce the inmates and staff as directed by the Transfer Order. I get so tired of having to scramble on these. This is the second Transfer Order today. When I got here at seven thirty there was one from Judge Valentino sitting in the fax machine,” she continued. Jack walked past her with other things on his mind.

Tacy noticed Jack’s grim look when he returned to the Medical Unit. She followed him to his office and shut the door. “So what is going on with the Warden?” she asked. Jack sat on his desk and sighed, looking at her mournfully.

“How long do they keep videos of security?” he asked.

“I think it is thirty days. Why?” she said.

“In my little chat with the Warden he mentioned something neither of us knew. Mainly, that when there is a riot at the institution all the security cameras are turned on for the duration without their red usage lights being illuminated. The idea is to minimize the inmates destroying the cameras if they saw the illuminated lights. In other words, the cameras were on all the time, but we didn’t know it. That may help with the use of force but if they fast-forward to the end of the afternoon, Lord help us,” Jack explained.

Tacy sank into the metal chair across from Jack’s desk. “I do remember that after Dr. Bridge was killed there was a memo and briefing about enhanced video security during emergencies. I guess I was thinking that was just for the compound. They did say something about the red lights not coming on. Oh my God! We are porn stars!” she said tearfully, putting her face into her hands.

“The Warden said he was reviewing the security videos for the use of force on Kirk. He may not go past that and then if he does there is the footage of getting the other inmates out the door to the ambulances and then us saying goodbye to all the security staff,” Jack responded hopefully.

“But if he does …” Tacy began.

“If he does, then the big-screen on the Warden’s wall will shine with pagan images like never seen in a controlled prison environment,” Jack said, finishing her thought.

“I wonder if there is some way we could erase part of the videos?” Tacy pondered.

“I gave some desperate thought to just that. Ignoring the fact that we would be destroying evidence which is certainly some kind of crime, we are looking at several video cameras and several digital recordings. Also, the video feed goes right into the Warden’s office and I just don’t think it is possible. I tried to focus his attention on the use of force. Our best hope is that he looks at that from every angle and gets bored with the cleanup and send off of these inmates in the ambulances,” he said.

“I guess you’re right,” she said, sadly, as she got up from the chair and headed back into the Medical Unit.

Jack grabbed her arm as she went by, “Tacy, hey, it was worth it! To me, anyway.”

“Me too,” she said softly as she left the office, closing the door behind her.

Jack opened the drawer to his desk and retrieved the overnight package. He carefully printed the name and address of Dr. Howard Clayton and the CDC from memory. Jack reached for his cell phone and dialed the familiar number. “Dr. Clayton, please.” In a few moments he heard the friendly voice of Howard Clayton. “Yes, Howie, I am now a full-blown chain gang doctor. It beats being on the chain gang and it really is not so bad. The people here are pleasant and it is pretty exciting sometimes. I came across an interesting case and I’m sending you two blood samples. I am giving them the name John Doe 666. This guy tested positive for HIV twice before coming in here. Now he’s tested negative on two occasions and it looks like he’s completely clean. So here’s the third round. If these samples are negative, he may be your Blood Cleaner. I think I got enough blood for you to play around with it and get some clues as to how he does it. But it is definitely worth a look,” Jack explained to his friend. “Of course I took it legally. But let’s just keep it as a John Doe until we know we have something. All right, Howie. Yes I am staying out of trouble. It is hard to misbehave when you are in Lester, Georgia,” Jack said as he ended the call. Almost immediately, his cell phone rang.

“Yes, Mr. Davis,” Jack said, recognizing the voice of his attorney. “Everything is going well. No major medical catastrophes so far. I was here for the riot but luckily the injuries were minimal,” Jack said.

“Jack, I have some bad news. Cindy has taken a turn for the worse. They think she may not make it. Of course, you know that would jump your case up to involuntary manslaughter which would require the Judge to be looking at it again. We might be able to keep the same deal but you sure need to be a valuable commodity at Georgia Maximum Security Prison to do that. I would recommend you put in an extra effort as the doctor over there. I will keep you posted,” the attorney stated.

“Should I go see her?” Jack asked.

“No, I think you need to stay put and do a great job of doctoring. Make sure the Warden wants to keep you. Also, you need to continue to be trying to remember where that thumb drive is hidden,” the lawyer continued.

Jack hung up and looked at the overnight package he had prepared for the CDC. “To hell with it!” he muttered, picking up the package and heading out of his office toward the Medical Unit refrigerator. He took two of the samples and placed them in a plastic container with a frozen cold pack designed for such shipments. He sealed the plastic container inside the package and took it to the overnight pickup box at the nurses’ station. Nurse Griggs, who was seated at the station, looked over at the package. “Sending something to the CDC?” she asked, looking at the address label.

“Yeah, I used to work there. Sometimes they help me out on a difficult diagnosis,” Jack explained quickly, not wanting to draw any more attention to his package.

“I have heard Dr. Bridge used to do the same thing every once in a while. They have tests up there nobody else has,” Nurse Griggs commented agreeably. Jack was relieved this was not an unknown activity at the prison.

“Dr. Randolph, we need to get moving with sick call. Also, we have the diabetes clinic today,” Tacy said in an official tone. Jack looked around to see five inmates seated in chairs around the room. Three of the inmates were rather puffy and portly and obviously constituted the subjects of the diabetes clinic. Jack looked at his charts for the other inmates and noted they had only minor ailments.

“Let’s get started,” he said in a loud voice. He walked to the first examination room, taking a second to look at the security camera and shaking his head slightly.

THIRTY

The church Recreation Center for the Lester Antioch Baptist Church was a midsized corrugated metal building which also doubled as a basketball court. Jack had dropped off Tacy and her mother at the entrance, each dressed in similar floral print dresses while he parked the car. Tacy’s outfit was a little more up-to-date with a red silk scarf and gold sandals. Her mother extinguished a cigarette as they entered the building.

Inside was a group of similarly dressed, mostly older ladies occupying a flock of varnished oak picnic tables, each equipped with several gray, folding metal chairs. At the front of the tables was a small wooden stage. On the stage was an ancient chrome microphone and a large table equipped with a metal bingo cage complete with a brass crank. On one side of the room was an oilcloth covered table, manned by Tacy’s friends, Myrtrice and Alice, which was loaded with plates of small chicken salad sandwiches and frosty glass pitchers of sweet tea, lemonade and plates of cookies.

Myrtrice nudged Alice and gestured toward Jack. “That’s Tacy’s new doctor friend, Jack Randolph.”

“Oh I like him. Let’s hope Tacy gives him both barrels!” Alice replied as she admired Jack from afar.

“I am pretty sure that has already happened,” Myrtrice said with a knowing smile.

At a small folding table to the side of the stage were stacks of bingo cards. An earnest looking, older gentleman with a bow tie was busily collecting five dollars for each card. Tacy and her mother waved and hugged their way to the bingo card table.

“I can’t play more than two cards at one time now. I get dizzy,” Tacy’s mother explained as the group arrived at the table.

“Tacy and I will do three each. You can stick with two. That ought to give us good odds,” Jack said as he purchased eight cards. They then maneuvered Tacy’s mother to a front row table. Once she was situated, Jack and Tacy headed for the refreshments. Jack looked back to watch Tacy’s mother examining each of the eight cards front and back, taking the time to read the comments about the quality of each card which previous owners had scribbled on the back.

“Myrtrice, Alice; have you met my friend, Jack Randolph?” Tacy said sweetly to the young women at the refreshment table who each looked up with a smile and a toss of their respective hairstyles.

“Not yet. But I am pleased to,” Myrtrice said, holding out her hand, “I hear you two are getting along real well,” she said with a slight cackle. Jack shook her hand politely realizing that his activities on the river had by now, forty-eight hours later, fully circulated throughout the county.

“We are just friends, you do know how that goes,” Tacy explained carefully, giving Jack’s hand a little squeeze. “Myrtrice and Alice have been my friends since grade school,” she continued.

“Tacy is the sweetest girl I’ve been able to locate down here so far,” Jack replied with a smile, squeezing her hand in return. With a nod to the ladies, Jack helped Tacy load two paper plates with sandwiches and juggle three lemonades as they headed back to the table. Tacy pretended not to notice as Jack skillfully produced a small flask from his coat pocket and deftly spiked their lemonades as he held each at knee level below the table for an instant.

It was only a few minutes after they were seated when a large man in a powder blue coat and a Western-style string tie appeared on the stage, turned on the massive chrome microphone and began calling the group to attention and prayer.

“All right, all you gambling church people, we’re going now to thank Jesus for bringing us all together here tonight,” he instructed. “Dear Lord, we thank you for this congregation of people who love You and each other. We thank you for allowing us this fellowship and ask you to bless us, even those that don’t win tonight. We thank you for the blessings on this Church with the bounty brought by these games. We also ask that you especially bless Sam Tilden, husband of Laura Tilden, who is in the hospital tonight. Amen.” Several vigorous amen’s went off around the room and several of the older ladies prayed a little longer still. “My assistant will now spin the cage,” he continued, as a slightly built, teenage girl in a green velvet dress spun the brass handle to the large metal cage which contained the bingo numbers. Once the cage stopped moving, he reached in and pulled out a black plastic ball. “Lester Eleven in the B column, number eleven,” he announced as the sound of bingo cards shuffling filled the room. “Two plus two, I, twenty two,” he continued. Jack closed the window on two of his three cards and pointed to the twenty two on Tacy’s mother’s card. This first game was a simple one, with any row, horizontal, vertical or crisscross, a winner. It did not take many pulls from the cage for a silver haired lady in the back row to announce bingo and claim her prize. Jack watched her smile as she retrieved the twenty dollar bill from the announcer and a ten dollar gift certificate from the Maximum Pig.

The drawings and games continued with each one a little more difficult. Jack, Tacy and her mother each came within one number of bingo, but the prize eluded them. The final game of the evening was to fill the entire card, with a grand prize of one hundred dollars and a twenty five dollar gift certificate from the Altamaha Central Hardware Store in Lester.

“I won once, a year ago. It was twenty-five dollars on a picture frame game. I haven’t won since,” Mrs. Crandall commented with a dry smoker’s cough. Jack looked over at her cards and pushed over two numbers. The next two numbers were on his cards. He noticed her pushing them over on one of her cards also. Jack and Tacy were down to the last three numbers on their cards when Mrs. Crandall jumped to her feet.

“Bingo! Bingo! Bingo!” she shouted in a hoarse voice. She strode up to the stage waving her card. The announcer took her card and quickly checked it against the numbers called.

“I hope she hasn’t made a mistake,” Tacy said quietly to Jack.

“This card is correct. This concludes tonight’s bingo. Come see us again,” the announcer stated loudly, handing Mrs. Crandall her prizes. Jack and Tacy applauded as she made her way back triumphantly to the table.

“Good work, Mrs. Crandall, rarely have I seen such skillful gambling play,” Jack said goodheartedly.

“I want a drink,” the old lady announced to the laughter of Jack and Tacy as she waved her prizes proudly. “You young people can drop me off and then go on your way,” she commanded. They followed the crowd which flowed out of the building with several people stopping to congratulate Tacy’s mother.

In a few minutes they were on their way back home. “It is about time I won again. I do play every week,” she chirped happily. “This certificate from the hardware store will come in handy too. I’ve been wanting to do some painting in the kitchen,” she continued.

As she talked, Jack pulled onto the oyster shell driveway and stopped the car. He began to open his door to walk her to the front door, but a firm hand on his shoulder interrupted him. “I appreciate your being a gentleman, but I can get to the door from here,” the old lady announced as she opened the back car door and blew Tacy a kiss. “Don’t you be misbehaving,” Mrs. Crandall instructed Tacy as she headed to the front door.

“Yes Momma,” Tacy replied sweetly as her mother disappeared into the house. “I think she will be doing her own celebrating now,” Tacy said with a smile as she watched the lights in the kitchen light up. “Where do you think we should go to celebrate?” she said lustily to Jack.

“I think the Medical Unit is out. I guess we might just head back to my place,” Jack said.

“Will there be video?” Tacy asked teasingly.

“Lord, I hope not. But it is a State house. For all I know they may have it wired for surveillance also,” Jack replied.

It only took a few minutes to arrive at the prison and for Jack to turn the car down the dirt road at the far side of the gate toward his State house. The red dirt road twisted through the pine trees, generally following the perimeter of the fence. As he slowly drove around the back of the compound toward the house, Jack’s attention was mostly focused on running his hand down Tacy’s thigh and her fingers running through his hair and across his shoulders. He did not notice the little puffs of dust on the road ahead and did not notice at all the patrol car parked back in the woods about two hundred yards from his front door.

“Are we there yet, Jack?” Tacy cooed as they approached the house. “This old dress is getting hot,” she said, hiking up her skirt to reveal a pair of blue thong panties.

“I am getting hot also!” Jack said as he pulled the car up to the front door. Once the car was stopped Tacy’s door was open and she was on her way to the front door. “Go on in, the door isn’t locked,” he said as he watched her approach the house. Once he had turned off the engine and the headlights, he watched her pull off the blue dress, tuck it under her arm and wave to him just inside the door wearing only her blue panties as she stepped into the house. Slick, the ever vigilant watch dog, woofed slightly at this sight and then followed Tacy into the house.

Jack shook his head and sighed, thinking of Oscar Wilde’s remarks on temptation. He closed the car door and followed Tacy and the dog into the house. In a few seconds the lights in the house were extinguished. After about five minutes the patrol car in the woods started its engine and pulled out onto the dirt road very slowly, with its headlights off. In the moonlight the markings, “Sheriff Ossabaw County” could be dimly seen as the car traveled back toward the Highway.