Singularity (13 page)

Now, he stared through the thick plastic at the object.
If it had been found somewhere besides in a dead man’s mouth, the spiraling teeth and slender shape might have been beautiful.
Were the sharp
points
teeth? Not teeth, just jagged tips. He looked closer at the ivory coloring of the thing. Slight variations like layers could be seen as swirls on its surface. They resembled the lines in agates he used to hunt for as a child.
The more lines, the cooler the rock.
When he flipped the bag over to look at the object’s base, he could see the likeness Don described earlier. The material hanging out of the hard shell was light in color and striated. A few flaps dangled raggedly from the edge, assumedly where Alvarez had bitten through it. The head clamping down on Don’s fingers now made sense—the victim had died biting through the murder weapon.

“What do you think that is?” Barry asked, startling Sullivan.

“Not sure, but I think forensics will match some of the wounds on Alvarez to this thing.
Might be from some kind of sea animal.
Looks marine anyway.”

“Someone stabbed him to death with a crab claw?”

“Looks that way, smart-ass.
You’ll be pissed when that’s exactly what it turns out to be,” Sullivan said as he tucked the bag into his pocket.

Footsteps outside the room caused them to turn their heads, and the lanky form of the warden filled the doorway. “Hello, gentlemen, how are you?”

“Just fine, sir.
Thank you,” Sullivan said.

Andrews’s face pulled in on itself as he frowned at the floor. “I’m very sorry to hear that a member of your team was injured. Freakish, isn’t it?”

Sullivan nodded. “Yes, really strange, but Don’s going to be okay.”

“Good, good.” Andrews reached into the pocket of the light jacket he wore, pulled out two small pieces of plastic, and handed them to the agents. “These are electronic keys to the prison’s security doors. I thought they would be of use, so you can come and go a little more freely, but please keep them on your person at all times. They won’t unlock the prison cells or the armory, but they’ll get you into most any other room on the premises. Take care of them well.”

Sullivan was reminded of a grandfather handing a grandson his first slingshot and a pocketful of taconite pellets. “Thank you, Warden. We’ll keep them safe.”

Andrews waved his hands before him. “Please, call me David. Now, what’s next for you gentlemen? Anything else I can do for you?”

Sullivan looked at Barry and then back at the older man. “We’d like to interview Officer Bundy when he gets back from dropping our crime-scene team off.”

“Very well, I think he’s just returned, actually.
Anything else?”

“Only a ride back to our vehicle when we’ve finished, if that works. We’ll stay in
Brighton
tonight and come back as early as we can,” Sullivan said.

The warden’s lips pursed as if tasting something sour. “I think it might be a better idea for you to stay here tonight. Have you looked outside in the last twenty minutes?”

Both men shook their heads. The warden motioned for them to follow him, and led them to the lobby.

“Unbelievable,” Sullivan muttered as he stepped close to the glass doors and peered out at the yard.

The approaching storm had worsened since their return to the prison. Rain fell sideways in sheets thick enough to obscure the fence outside, carried on winds that tossed the nearby forest into a frenzy of falling leaves and whipping branches. A slight abatement in the gusts provided a view of the water level near the front gate. Unbelievably, it looked higher than when he’d last seen it.

“Shit,” Barry said beside him. “You’re sure no one can bring us across?” he asked Andrews, who stood behind both men.

The warden’s eyes squinted out at the elements. “Gentlemen, I’d love to, but I don’t think it holds much sense to endanger one of my staff, or yourselves, on a night like this. Like I said, I’d be happy to arrange a room for you both tonight. They’re quite comfortable and they lack the bars the other guests have to put up with.”

Sullivan looked at Andrews and saw that the older man had just a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. All at once, the warden grimaced and grabbed his left bicep with his right hand, as if someone had struck him. Pain flashed like the lightning outside across his face, and Sullivan reached out to steady Andrews as he wavered on his feet.

“You okay, sir?” Sullivan asked.

The warden opened his eyes and Sullivan saw an accumulation of tears there. Andrews nodded and tried to smile again.
“Arthritis.”
He motioned to the doors. “This damp weather always sets it off. I won’t be right until a week after it’s dried up and blown away.”

Sullivan dropped his hand to his side and nodded, unconvinced. Andrews smiled again and turned toward the main desk. “So you’ll stay tonight?”

Both agents followed him, and Barry just shrugged when Sullivan tried to read his expression. “I suppose that’s best. I don’t want to put one of your men at risk,” Sullivan said.

Andrews stopped and leaned on the desk, and Sullivan noticed that the tall man wasn’t just idly resting; the counter looked to be holding him upright. “Good, good. I’ll send Officer Bundy to you gentlemen as soon as I locate him,” Andrews said.

Sullivan and Barry thanked him and headed for the interview rooms once again. As soon as they were inside, Barry withdrew his cell phone and began punching it with a fingertip. Out of habit, Sullivan withdrew his own, and was momentarily confused when the usual display didn’t light up. He then recalled the phone’s version of a swan dive into the puddle outside, and cursed as he tucked the useless thing away.

“Who’re you calling?” Sullivan asked, sitting on one side of the table.

Barry’s face was scrunched up in concentration as he brought the phone to his ear. “Sheriff
Jaan
,” he said. After a few moments, he pulled the device away from his head and frowned at it. “No answer.”

“Cell number?”

“Yeah, that’s all he gave me. We’ll have to look up the landline when we finish the interview.”

“Did you think of something to ask him?”

Barry sat in the chair beside Sullivan and sighed. “No, I just don’t want to stay in this fucking place tonight.”

“Why?”

Barry looked at Sullivan and just shook his head. “Not sure. I just don’t.”

Sullivan was about to agree and suggest that they simply commandeer the prison’s boat when the slouched form of Officer Bundy appeared in the doorway. The man stroked at his goatee and knocked on the door frame before entering.

“Come on in,” Sullivan said, gesturing toward a seat on the opposite side of the table. The dislike he felt at seeing Bundy’s lackadaisical manner and movement surfaced again like heartburn.

The officer slumped into the chair and looked back and forth at the two agents. “
Whatcha
guys need?”

Sullivan felt his left eyebrow slouch down as he studied the guard. “We need to ask you a few questions, if that’s okay with you.”

The guard tilted his head to the right and smoothed his facial hair again. Sullivan had the urge to reach across the desk and pull out a chunk of the pitiful beard, but managed to remain seated. “
Whatcha
want to know?”

Barry, sensing Sullivan’s anger, leaned forward. “We’d like to know what exactly happened last night while you were on shift. Can you run us through that?”

“Well, I clocked in at the regular time and got briefed on the prior shift.
Myself
and four other guards were scheduled to go out and keep sandbagging. I would say we stayed out until midnight, and then we were called in by the front desk.
Told us that one of the inmates was dead.
We all came
scramblin
’ in and accompanied Hunt down to solitary.” Bundy raised his hands in front of him, as if to say,
you know the rest
.

“Did you see anything out of the ordinary on your way down to the crime scene?” Sullivan asked.

“Other than Hunt shitting his pants? Nope,” Bundy said, chuckling through his goatee.

“Does this whole situation strike you as funny, Officer?” Sullivan asked. The tone of his voice was like a bullwhip snapping in the room.

Bundy quit laughing and scowled instead, his tongue pressed into the space of his bottom lip. “No,” he said after a brief pause.

“Good, because I don’t know if you looked real close down there, or maybe it was too dark, but that man was literally torn to pieces and battered to death. Someone tried to shove his head down a drain. To me that says crazy, but what the hell do I know, right? I’m just a dumb special agent stomping around in your territory.”

“Sully,” Barry said out of the side of his mouth.

“I don’t really care to be talked to like this,” Bundy said and began to stand.

“Sit down,” Sullivan growled. Something in his voice must have registered with the guard, because Bundy sat and blinked at Sullivan, as if he had just become aware of him. Sullivan could feel his pulse beginning to slam inside his chest, not necessarily fast but
hard.
The adrenaline-laced blood coasted through his veins, asking for release.

Barry placed his hands flat on the table. “Look, we just need to know if there was anything out of the ordinary during your shift before Hunt came and told you what he’d found.
Any visitors that day or disturbances other than what landed Alvarez in solitary?”

Bundy looked like he wasn’t going to answer, but then shook his head.
“No, nothing strange.
Just like you said, the fight that started this whole mess.”

“Do you know of any internal gang problems? Maybe someone that had it in for Alvarez prior to yesterday?” Sullivan asked. He could feel his pulse calming, but the compulsion to unleash his anger on the man across the desk still burned.

“No, nothing like that.
Everyone usually gets along just fine here,” Bundy said, and Sullivan detected a hint of a smile, then it was gone.

Sullivan glanced at Barry and the other agent shrugged. “Thanks for your help,” Sullivan said.

Bundy rose from his chair, gave one contemptuous look over his shoulder, and went out into the hallway. Barry shut the door and sat down in the chair Bundy had vacated. Sullivan studied his friend. Barry’s thin hair was disheveled and there were dark bags hanging beneath his eyes.

“You look tired,” Sullivan said.

“You look like shit,” Barry answered, rubbing his eyes. “What do you think?”

“I think we should watch the videos that our friend Benny sent us.”

Barry pulled his phone from his pocket and queued up the attachment in the email. Sullivan leaned over the table and watched as the dark screen came to life. The video was the one they had watched before in the surveillance room, but this time it was hours earlier when Alvarez had been locked away initially. Barry fast forwarded through the video, watching for any movement in the hall. There was nothing until Nathan entered the scene. Sullivan stared as Hunt came into view and cautiously made his way to the door. Hunt stumbled back, aghast, and ran from the picture. They watched for a flicker of movement or a gap in the video that would signify a manipulation of the content. The digital feed rolled on uninterrupted until a host of shadows came into view and half a dozen male and female guards followed at a fast walk. Nathan trailed after the pack as they closed in on the door, and stopped a dozen feet away, just as he had that morning when he’d escorted them to the crime scene. Sullivan could see Bundy among the guards as the door was thrown open and the group stared into the blood-drenched cell. None of the figures moved for several seconds, and then Bundy’s head turned toward Hunt, and he motioned to one of the female officers. She broke off from the group and gripped Nathan’s arm as she led him away from the scene. Bundy turned back and stared into the chamber.

Barry stopped the video and darkness flooded the small screen in his palm.

Sullivan sat back in his chair and massaged his left temple, felt the scar tissue there and stopped. “That’s unbelievable.
Nothing, fucking nothing.
No one came in or out. How the hell is that possible?” Sullivan went over the video in his mind again and looked up at Barry. “Can you tell me something?”

Barry’s brow wrinkled as he looked up from the phone. “What?”

“Why in God’s name
would
trained prison officers not have their weapons drawn when responding to a murder scene?”

Barry blinked and seemed to chew on an imaginary piece of gum. “You’re right. They were acting—”

“Like they already knew,” Sullivan finished. The quiet of the room flooded over them. It was the sound of something unsaid cementing into place, being mortared in their minds.

“Shit,” Barry said.

“Double shit,” Sullivan said. He sat forward and pointed to the phone. “Let’s watch the other one with Alvarez and
Fairbend
.”

Barry fiddled with the device for a moment, and after a few seconds, the next video began to play.

The shot was centered on three cells in the main holding area. The camera seemed to be mounted beneath the second-floor catwalk, and when Sullivan thought about it, he recalled seeing a few small black spheres positioned there every twenty yards or so. Two guards came into view, each gripping an arm of an inmate that Sullivan recognized as
Fairbend
. The guards opened the cell door and Alvarez appeared in the innermost confines, leaning casually against the wall.
Fairbend
entered and the door slid shut. Both guards exited the frame and all was still within the cell. Alvarez remained against the back wall and
Fairbend
faced the camera, staring out into the corridor. Sullivan could see
Fairbend’s
lips moving between the bars and his head tilting from side to side as he spoke. It looked as if he was speaking to Alvarez, but neither man acknowledged the other in any way.
Fairbend
finished talking and Sullivan watched as Alvarez stepped away from the wall, as if he’d been shocked.
Fairbend
smiled and turned toward Alvarez. There was a beat and then Alvarez launched himself across the cell’s short width and began to choke
Fairbend
. Sullivan could see the dead man’s fingers wrapped tightly around the other man’s throat, and then, as suddenly as he’d attacked, Alvarez fell away like he’d been shocked by the other man’s skin.
Fairbend
recovered and began to stalk into the depth of the cell, chasing Alvarez. There were flailing arms and legs, and then both men came back into view.
Fairbend
fell and landed on his back, while Alvarez pounced on top of him. Again, the dead man began to choke his cellmate, but he was interrupted as a flurry of guards came running onto the screen. After a few seconds, the door was opened and Alvarez came out, swinging his fists wildly in sweeping arcs at his captors. A guard on the left drew a black gun-like object from his belt, and a moment later Alvarez fell to the floor, his legs and arms locked tight by the current coursing through his body. The video ended there, the screen once again turning black.