I flip open my cell phone and dial Mirabelle. He picks up. “Det. Mirabelle.”
“It’s Jo. You’re at the Dodd apartment, right?”
“Just walked in.”
“In the duffel bag on his bed is a bible with a stash of cash. Check the room for letters or envelopes with a woman’s handwriting. Oh, and have someone pick up former C.O. Denny Darcy for questioning. He was working for Alkaline.”
“On it.”
I shut the phone and return my attention to Dodd. He’s chewing on his lower lip as if it was made of chocolate. “…they were all from Jane Smith, but I never met her.”
“Who first approached you about the escape?” Harry asks.
“James. I usually worked nights with Leon up until last month when Moore switched so Leon could be home with his new baby. Leon would fall asleep, and I’d talk to James. About two months ago he brought it up, just in passing, how he was thinking of getting out. The next time we talked, he said he’d decided it was time. Asked if I’d help.”
“You agreed?” Cam asks.
“Not at first. I said hell no, hell no, but then he started crying. Crying! He said he was going crazy. He said that a lot. That if he had to stay another minute inside, he’d string himself up. Said Jane was thinking of moving away, leaving him. I—I just couldn’t say no. You don’t know what he’s like. It’s like you get sucked in. He mesmerizes you with his voice, his look, I don’t know. The things he says. The way he listened to me. I thought he was my friend. I thought…” He vigorously shakes his head, and his face scrunches up as if he’s about to cry.
“What happened next?” Harry asks.
“Um, Moore switched with Leon and I couldn’t talk to him anymore. I could still pass letters and the pills, but none of the others really slept on duty.”
“So how did you know what to do?” Cam asks.
“Well, I didn’t hear anymore about it at first, not until a week before. There was a letter for me from James. He gave me the date and time it was happening and detailed instructions of what I was supposed to do.”
“Which was what exactly?” Harry asks.
“When I was walking the block, I’d shout that James was trying to hang himself. Moore would come running as I unlocked the door. I’d pretend to revive him and when Moore came in, James would knock him out, take his uniform, pass, and gun. While he changed, I’d wipe the security system. Then he’d pretend to take me hostage and release me in the parking lot.” Logan looks away from the men down at the table. “He promised he’d send for me when the dust settled. I believed him.”
“So what really happened?” Cam asks.
Logan starts playing with his stump, as if stroking his non-existent hand. “The night came and I was scared as hell. Shaking. I even threw up. Moore wanted to send me home, but I refused. I think he got suspicious.” Logan shakes his head. “Then the time came and I did everything he told me to. Shouted, opened the door, pretended, but…instead of coming in to help me, Moore pulled his gun and told me to move away. I don’t know what happened. James just sat up, cool as ice, and shot that acid right in Moore’s face with that tube thing that came out of his wrist.
“Moore started screaming like nothing I’ve ever heard. He was in so much pain. I just, I was too scared to even move. No one was supposed to get hurt. I don’t know how long I just sat in that cell, watching Moore die. Seconds maybe? James had left and come back twice, the second time grabbing me off the floor. He slapped me and dragged me to the control room. Asked where the disc with the computer virus was.”
“How did you get that?” Harry asks.
“Jane sent it. There were instructions on how to install it. It was in my CD player in my bag. As he got it out he told me to strip, that Moore’s uniform was no good anymore. I said, ‘Won’t that be suspicious, me walking around with no clothes?’ He ignored me and got the disc. That’s when I realized he hadn’t taken the pistol off me the whole time. It was pointed at me since the cell. He told me to strip again, so I did. Then he dragged me to the door, telling me that I was now an accessory to a murder and if I didn’t keep my mouth shut, he’d make sure me and Mom would never make it to trial. Then that acid thing came out again, and all I felt was pain. I don’t remember stumbling down the stairs to get help.”
“Why didn’t he do us a favor and kill you that night?” Cam asks.
“I don’t know. Mom came by the hospital yesterday. Said she found an envelope with twenty grand and a fake passport with my picture in it. The note read, ‘Thanks for giving me a hand. You have two days before I come for the rest.’ I was about to leave when that detective came.”