There’s nothing in this file to help me locate him, which is all I care about. Hell, the only real way we’ll find him without relying on luck, is to tie Justice up on the bridge and wait for Ryder to slime his way toward him. This scenario brings a smile to my face.
I pull out the file the warden’s secretary gave me with the list of people who had any contact with Ryder. The poor, overwhelmed thing had to go back and get me the complete list. She only had the names of people with direct contact. One theory I came up with was he left notes in his sheets, and one of the people in the laundry delivered them. Farfetched, but possible.
People from the library where he had books delivered, cleaning crew, guards, medical personnel, even the secretary of Dr. Qwan, the list is close to forty people. For a man in solitary confinement, there were a lot of people he had access to. The good news is Conover and I only have to interview a quarter of them. We took the interesting ones for ourselves.
Officer Dwayne Conover, one of my trainees from years back, with his rumpled brown suit, skinny frame, and gaunt face steps back into the room with two cups of coffee. “The warden’s coming,” he whispers as he rushes in.
Warden Gilbert Myers, a stocky man with shiny bald head, more than fills the door when he walks in. Right now he’s the second most hated man in the city: the man who let Alkaline escape. I wonder what they’d say if they found out about my part last night. I’d feel for the guy, but since we got here, he’s done nothing but make my life a living hell. The bastard yelled at me for not granting him access to the crime scene, for my constant demands of files, for him to call in personnel on their day off, even for wanting to interview him “like a common thug.” It took a lot but I kept my mouth shut. I need him. I can respect the office even if I don’t the man.
“Yes, Warden?” I ask with a faux sweet smile.
“Willie Lopez just got here,” he says. Lopez is the supervisory guard in the Hardcore Block. “And the press conference is in half an hour.”
Ugh, I had hoped Harry was kidding about that. I hate talking to the press. They always ask questions we’re not allowed to answer, and mine is the third of the day. First the police commissioner and mayor had one an hour ago, and then right after that Alkaline’s victim, socialite Grace Pickering, the woman who he kidnapped, raped, and who ultimately led Justice to him, had one. Finally, mine in half an hour. If it bleeds, it leads.
I know Grace. She was one of the first people Justin introduced me to. They dated for about a month years later. Sweet girl until Ryder became obsessed with her. After the trial she withdrew from the society scene, only coming out to a charity event here or there. I sure as hell hope we have people outside her penthouse in case Ryder wants to rekindle their old flame.
“Thank you,” I say. “Come get me when it’s time. Send Lopez in.”
“Fine,” the warden says with a sneer before walking away.
“What an asshole,” I mutter.
“I’ll bet he gets fired,” Conover says.
“Oh, yeah.”
Just as I locate Lopez’s file, the man himself steps in. Latino, medium height and build inside a brown Correctional Officer’s uniform, with black hair cut very short. He’s a few years older than me, but not by much. Without a word, he sits across from us and folds his arms on the table.
“Officer Lopez, I’m Det. Joanna Fallon, this is Officer Dwayne Conover. Thank you for meeting with us today.”
“You were the one who chased him last night, right?”
“I am.”
“Thank you. I just left Stu Moore’s wife and four kids. They had to sedate his mother. I’ll help anyway I can.”
“I appreciate that.” I open his file, scanning it. “So, it says in your file you’ve been on Ryder’s block for four years, the longest of any other officer.”
“Yeah,” Lopez says. “Most last about a year, if that. Those assholes freak out even the hardest hard ass. Me and Stu were the old timers.”
“And only you, Stuart Moore, Logan Dodd, Ralph Marinello, Garret Leon, and Marcel Akwambe worked the block?”
“Sometimes, if someone called in sick we’d swing another guard in, but that hasn’t happened in a couple months. For the most part, it’s two shifts of two guys, twelve hours each. Since the prisoners are confined to their cells all day, we just watch them on the monitor and do a visual sweep every hour.”
“Been any disturbances?” Conover asks.
“Not really,” Lopez says. “Chameleon faked a seizure about a week ago, but we immediately subdued him.”