The Racketeer

date in blue ink.
    “The
Post
said the grand jury meets in the morning,” I manage to say, though it’s obvious what’s already happened.
    “We’re playing the press,” Hanski says smugly. Smug, but a much nicer guy this time around. Our roles have changed dramatically. Once I had been a shifty-eyed con looking for a deal and probably scamming the system. Now, though, I’m the golden boy about to walk out of here and take some cash with me.
    I shake my head and say, “I’m at a loss for words, guys. Help me here.”
    Hanski is ready to pounce. “Here’s what we have in mind, Mr. Bannister.”
    “How about Mal now?” I ask.
    “Great. I’m Chris and he’s Pat.”
    “Got it.”
    “The Bureau of Prisons has just reassigned you to the medium-security joint at Fort Wayne, Indiana. Reason unknown, or not given. Some type of rule violation that pissed off the big guys. No visitors for six months. Solitary confinement. Anyone who’s curious can find you online with the Inmate Locator service, but they’ll soon hit a brick wall. After a couple of months in Fort Wayne, you’ll be reassigned again. The goal is to keep you moving throughout the system and buried in it.”
    “I’m sure this will be quite easy for the bureau,” I say, and they both laugh. Man, have I changed teams or what?
    “In a few minutes, we’ll do the handcuff and ankle-chain routine, for the last time, and walk you out of here, just like a normal transfer. You’ll get in an unmarked van with Pat and another marshal, and they’ll drive you west, headed for Fort Wayne. I’ll follow. Sixty miles down the road, just this side of Morgantown, we’ll stop at a motel where we have some rooms. You’ll change clothes, have some lunch, and we’ll talk about the future.”
    “In a few minutes?” I say, shocked.
    “That’s the plan. Is there anything in your cell that you cannot live without?”
    “Yes. I have some personal stuff, paperwork and such.”
    “Okay. We’ll get the prison to box up everything tomorrow and we’ll get it to you. It’s best if you don’t go back there. If someone saw you gathering your things, they might ask questions. We don’t want anyone here to know you’re leaving until you’re gone.”
    “Got it.”
    “No farewells and all that crap, okay?”
    “Okay.” For a second I think about my friends here at Frostburg, but quickly let it go. This day is coming for all of them too, and once you’re free, you don’t look back. I doubt seriously iffriendships made in prison endure on the outside. And in my case, I will never be able to catch up with the old pals and reminisce. I am about to become another person.
    “You have $78 in your prison account. We’ll forward that to Fort Wayne, and it’ll get lost in the system.”
    “Screwed once more by the federal government,” I say, and again they think I’m funny.
    “Any questions?” Hanski asks.
    “Sure. How did you get him to confess? He’s too smart for that.”
    “We were surprised, frankly. We used a couple of our veteran interrogators, and they have their methods. He mentioned a lawyer a couple of times but backed off. He wanted to talk, and he seemed overwhelmed by the fact that he’d been caught, not for the escape, but for the murder. He wanted to know how much we knew, so we kept talking. For ten hours. Through the night into the early morning. He didn’t want to leave and go to jail, so he stayed in the room. Once he became convinced that we knew what we knew, he broke down. When we mentioned the possibility of his family being indicted, along with most of his gang, he wanted to cut a deal. He eventually gave us everything.”
    “And by everything you mean?”
    “His story is basically what you told us. He bribed Judge Fawcett with $500,000 to save his nephew, and the judge screwed him. Kept the money and nailed the kid. In Quinn’s world, that’s a crime that cannot be forgiven and must be avenged. He stalked Judge Fawcett, trailed him to his cabin, broke in on the judge and his secretary, and got his revenge.”
    “How much of the money was left?”
    “About half of it. Quinn claims he broke into the judge’s apartment in Roanoke, went through everything, and couldn’t find the money. He suspected it was being kept somewhere else, somewhere safer. That’s why he followed Fawcett to the cabin. He overpowered the judge on the front porch and got inside. Hewasn’t sure the money was there but was determined to find its