Pendergast [07] The Book of the Dead(111)

Imhof glanced at the clock, waited for the second hand to sweep around to exactly 7:30. Coffey hadn’t shown up, but he wasn’t going to wait. The truth was, the smug FBI agent and his lackey had really begun to get on his nerves.

“Gentlemen,” he began, “let me start this meeting by saying to all of you: well done.”

A murmuring and a vague shifting greeted this opening.

“Today, Herkmoor faced an extraordinary challenge—a mass escape attempt. At two-eleven P.M., nine inmates cut the fence in one of the building C exercise yards and fanned out through the inner perimeter fields. One got as far as the security station at the south end of building B. The cause of the breakout is still under investigation. Suffice to say, it appears that the prisoners in yard 4 were not under direct guard supervision at the time of the escape, for reasons that remain unclear.”

He paused, giving the group around the table a stern look. “We will be addressing that failure in the course of this debriefing.”

Then he relaxed his features. “Overall, the response to the escape attempt was immediate and by the book. First responders were at the scene at two-fourteen and a Code Red was immediately sounded. More than fifty guards were mobilized for the response. In well under an hour, every single escapee had been recaptured and all prisoners had been accounted for. By three-oh-one, the Code Red had ended. Herkmoor returned to business as usual.”

He paused for a moment. “Once again, I offer my congratulations to all involved. Everyone can relax, this is merely a pro forma meeting—as you know, a formal debriefing is required by regulation to occur within twelve hours of any Code Red. I apologize for keeping you here past your normal workday: let’s see if we can’t tie up any loose ends quickly so we can all get home to dinner. I urge any of you with questions to ask them as we proceed. Do not stand on ceremony.”

He looked around the room. “I call first on building C security manager James Rollo. Jim, could you talk about the role of Officer Sidesky? There seems to be some confusion about that.”

A man with a pour-over belly arose with the sound of jingling keys, adjusted his belt with more jingling. His face had assumed a stolid look of high seriousness.

“Thank you, sir. As you mentioned, the Code Red was sounded at two-fourteen. The first responders came from guard station 7. Four responded, leaving Officer Sidesky to man the guard station. It appears one of the escapees overpowered Officer Sidesky, drugged him, tied him up, and left him in the nearby men’s room. He’s still disoriented, but as soon as he is lucid we’ll get a statement.”

“Very well.”

At this point, a restless-looking man in a nurse’s uniform rose. “I’m Staff Nurse Kidder, sir, in charge of the building B infirmary.”

Imhof looked at him. “Yes?”

“There seems to have been some kind of mix-up. Early in the escape attempt, the EMTs brought down an injured guard claiming to be Sidesky, in uniform with his badge and ID. He then disappeared.”

“That’s easily explained,” said Rollo. “We found Sidesky without his uniform and badge. He must have left the infirmary. And then, evidently, one of the prisoners must have stripped Sidesky after knocking him out.”

“That sounds logical to me,” said Imhof. He hesitated. “Only thing is, all the escapees were apprehended in their prison garb. None were wearing uniforms.”

Rollo rubbed his wattle. “The prisoner who stripped Sidesky probably didn’t have time to put on the uniform.”

“That must be it,” said Imhof. “Mr. Rollo, please record those items as missing: uniform, badge, and ID belonging to Sidesky. I expect they’ll be found in the trash or in a dark corner somewhere. Can’t have them falling into prisoner hands.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Mystery solved. Continue, Mr. Rollo.”

“Forgive me for interrupting,” said Kidder, “but I’m not sure the mystery is solved. This man claiming to be Sidesky was left in the infirmary awaiting the radiologist while I attended to some of the escapees. He had several broken ribs, contusions, a facial laceration, a—”

“We don’t need the complete diagnosis, Kidder.”

“Right, sir. Anyway, he was in no condition to go anywhere. And when I returned, Sidesky—I mean, the guy claiming to be Sidesky—had disappeared, and in his bed was the corpse of the prisoner, Carlos Lacarra.”

“Lacarra?” Imhof frowned. He hadn’t heard this part before.

“That’s right. Someone had moved his cadaver and stuck him in Sidesky’s bed.”