Justice(22)
“Officer Leon, thank you for your time. If we have any follow-up questions, we’ll contact you,” I say with a smile.
“How long until you think you’ll find him? Will he come back here if you do?” he asks, noticeably scared.
“I have no idea.”
“Oh. I hope he doesn’t. Can I go now?”
“Sure,” Conover says.
Leon leaves without another word, off to guard the rest of the freaks. I don’t care how much it pays, if I had four kids there’s no way in hell I’d even come within a mile of this place. Hope after all this Office Leon comes to the same conclusion.
“He didn’t do it,” Conover says.
I stand, and toss on my suit jacket. “Nope. But we’ll treat him as a suspect until we have proof otherwise.” I pull down my vest. “How do I look?”
He eyes me up and down. “Good. Any idea what they want you to say?”
“The usual. ‘No comment’ or ‘We can’t release that information.’ While I’m gone, I want you to keep culling through the fan letters. I’m sure it’s a dead end, but better safe than sorry. This shouldn’t take that long.”
Warden Myers waits at the end of the hall, arms folded. Not a man who likes to be kept waiting, even for a minute. Up close I can see the pancake make-up covering his entire face with a hint of blush on the cheeks. I probably should have done some touch–up, but it’s too late now. Don’t want to keep my adoring audience waiting.
“This your first press conference?” I ask as we walk toward the front of the prison along with his secretary and another guard.
“Yes,” he replies gruffly.
“Do you have a prepared statement?”
“Of course,” he snaps. “I’ll do the talking. You’re just there to back me up.” He already has flop sweat and shaking hands. I’d be nervous too if I were him. Right now I’m walking beside a scapegoat about to be slaughtered on national television, and he knows it.
“It’s your show,” I say.
He ignores me the rest of the walk. Instead he rehearses his statement. Not that it matters what he’s going to say. He’s already been tried and convicted in the court of public opinion. The jackals are amassed in the parking lot, twelve deep with their vans and equipment scattered around. It’s not just the locals either. No, our blunder will be broadcast worldwide through BNN and LBC, among others. Now I really wish I’d put on make-up.
The sacrificial altar, or podium with several microphones attached, waits for us just outside the glass doors. Two guards standing watch by the door nod at us for solidarity. We nod back. The warden takes a deep breath, and then his trembling hand opens the door. He’s probably a good poker player. His face remains expressionless as he walks up to the microphones with me and the guard a few inches behind him.
“I have prepared a brief statement, and then I will take questions,” he begins, voice neutral. “I’d like to begin by giving my heartfelt condolences to the families of the guards who were injured or killed in last night’s attack. Officers Moore, Dodd, and Dr. John Qwan were trusted and respected members of our community. Moore had several commendations for valor, and Dr. Qwan served in his position for over ten years. What happened to them is a tragedy, and all our thoughts and prayers of our staff are with their loved ones.
“There is no excuse for what happened last night. We failed to do our jobs, even though every safeguard was in place and followed to the letter. What happened was a fluke, and we are already taking measures to make sure it does not happen ever again. The prison is cooperating fully with the investigation into this event. Thank you.”
Immediately, a cacophony of voices starts. I can barely understand a word until the warden points to someone. The reporter shouts, “Have the other prisoners been moved from the obviously unsecure area?”
First blood drawn. “I cannot comment on the location of inmates due to security reasons. But let me stress, this was an isolated incident. There hasn’t been an escape in three years, and there will be none from now on.”
The reporters clamor until Myers chooses again. “How do you respond to Grace Pickering’s demand for not only your job, but those of the mayor and commissioner?”
“As of this time, I have no plans to resign. This was an isolated incident, one that will not be repeated as long as I have my post.”
“But someone is to blame,” another reporter shouts. “Your so-called safeguards failed in this case. Who’s to say they won’t again?”
The top of Myers’ head turns red, and he grips the podium so hard it creaks. He’s lasted longer than I thought he would. It’s sound bite time. “Look, we have the worst offenders in here. The scum of society. The freaks of nature. We do what we can to keep them in here, but we’re bound by law and nature. They aren’t. What the hell are we supposed to do when we have to mollycoddle them or be sued by you liberals if we don’t?”