I, the Accused

by kaleen1212

When Ross Howard, the former television personality convicted of murdering his wife, is accused in the violent death of a fellow inmate, Ironside is asked to confirm his innocence or prove his guilt. It turns out to more than just an investigation.

3. Chapter 3

I, The Accused

Chapter 3

1

Ross Howard carried what little belongings he owned in a duffle bag. Damn Ironside for interfering! Didn't the man realize he just made things worse for him? Of course, he didn't like being beaten on a regular basis at the hands of Burl Bricker. Still, he resigned himself to that fate. By having him transferred to another cell, it would only enrage Bricker. Ironside didn't do him any favors. Bricker would simply seek him out when he was working or in the courtyard. Why did the damn detective think it made any difference where he took the beating.

Suddenly, Howard felt a kick in the rump that almost sent him flying. He turn to look at a grinning Phillip Brody. "Stop moving like an old man, Howard. I don't have all day."

Ross wasn't about to change his pace for Brody. He was an example of what was wrong with the prison. He did what he wanted to prisoners, and went unchecked by the warden. Ross had several interactions with the warden. He didn't think he was a bad guy. After all, he could treat him like Brody did. The scathing program he did on the prison on his show included Warden Leyton. Yet, when Ross dealt with him, he was firm, to the point, and no nonsense. Still, he never threaten Ross. Because of this, he wondered if the warden even knew Brody was ignoring his authority. Hell, he was outright creating his own rules and authority.

When they arrived at the cell, which would be Ross's new home, Brody unlocked the door. Lifting his leg, he again shoved Howard from behind. Ross stumbled and fell into his new cellmate.

"Don't think you will escape Bricker, Howard. He is just waiting for you to appear in the exercise yard. You shouldn't have gone running to Ironside." He laughed heartily, closed the cell door, and locked it. "You two lovebirds enjoy your time together." He left the cell laughing.

"Hi, my name is Danny Lester." Lester put out his hand. Howard looked down at it, but did not shake it.

Throwing his duffle bag in the corner, Howard asked, "Which bunk is yours?"

Lester withdrew his hand and said, "I normally sleep in the top one, but it doesn't make any difference to me. You can have either one."

Ross sat down on the bottom bunk. He didn't like the top one anyway. Even if he did, he wouldn't take it from the kid. He'd been in the cell longer. After taking a good look at Dan Lester, he figured he couldn't be anymore than 20 or 21 years old. He stood about 5 feet 8 inches tall, with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. "How old are you?"

"22, why? Is my age a problem?" Lester asked.

"No, just wondered. You are pretty young to be in this joint."

Lester climbed up onto the top bunk. I have been in here since I was 16."

Listening to the kid's soft voice, Ross changed his tone. "What are you in here for, kid?"

"I killed my father. I don't regret it though. He was a mean drunk and he beat me every day. I finally got tired of it. He came home one night, drunk as usual, and started pounding on me because he thought the television was too loud. It wasn't really, but when you are drunk and hung off, it probably seemed louder than it was. He beat me so bad, I could hardly see out of my right eye. So, when he passed out, I went into his bedroom, reached into the night stand, and pulled out the gun he kept there. I put it up against the side of his head and blew his brains out. Then I called the police and turned myself in."

"They tried you as an adult?"

"Yeah. My lawyer tried to show the jury I was driven to it by the constant beatings. You know, that it affected my mind. They didn't buy it. My lawyer said it was my demeanor. They thought I just killed him in cold blood because I showed no emotion."

"They didn't give you the death penalty?" Ross asked.

"Nope, but I wish they had. I will be in here for the rest of my life. What are you in here for?"

"I killed my wife. I thought I had committed the perfect murder, but that damn cop. "

"Ironside, right?" Lester asked.

"Yeah, Ironside." Ross said no more.

"Ironside is hated by everyone in here. They are going to figure he favors you, and that will not be good for you," Danny said.

Ross rubbed his temples. Was the kid ever going to shut up? He needed some sleep. He didn't respond any further to Lester, hoping the kid would get the hint. He did. Ross closed his eyes and within a couple minutes he was sound asleep.

2

The following day Robert Ironside was up bright and early. After shaving, showering, and dressing himself, he headed for the main table where Mark was putting on his breakfast. He took one look at the bacon and eggs on his plate and turned up his nose. "Eggs again. Don't we have anything else in this office to eat."

Mark was used to the chief's complaining about eggs. Despite claiming he didn't like them, Robert Ironside always ate them. "First of all, it is not again, Chief. I have not served you eggs in nearly a month. Yesterday, you complained you were getting sick of pancakes and waffles, hence, the eggs."

"Where's the coffee? I need something to wash them down with," he snarled.

Mark shook his head and went back to kitchenette. He returned to the table with two coffee mugs full of freshly brewed coffee. After setting down one in front of the boss, he sat down at the table and began eating his breakfast.

Ironside took a sip of his coffee, made a face and set the mug down on the table. "Are you ever going to learn how to make a decent cup of coffee?"

"It's going to be one of those days, huh?" Mark said.

Ironside blew out a breath. He didn't say anything further. He was in a mood and he knew it. He put off going through the list of inmates for release. The governor was making a major blunder. Returning criminals to the streets before they served their sentence was a mistake. Ironside was beginning to wonder why police bothered to build cases against those who broke the law, only to see some politician return them to the streets to return to their former life of crime. Only a few would have learned their lesson and straighten out their lives. It was the ones that didn't that worried him. How many innocent citizens would be harmed, or even killed by them.

The chief thought about making an appointment with the governor to see if he could talk him out of releasing the large number that were on the lists. It might be possible to release those convicted of lesser crimes. He didn't like it, but he could live with it, or at least accept it. The governor wanted to release many that had no business being set free. If he spoke with him, maybe he could convince him to see things his way.

"Mark, the governor is in town this afternoon. I want to talk to him. Leave your schedule open to go with me."

"My schedule is always open, Chief. Why do you want to see the governor?"

"Because frankly, I don't want to see all those prisoners turned loose. I am going to try to convince him to keep most of them in prison where they belong."

"You know he is not going to listen to you, don't you? He's a politician. Like you said, he is trolling for votes. The bill passed the state house to give them the right to vote upon release. It is going to the senate now. It will probably be passed there too, and the governor will certainly sign it into law," Mark said.

"The federal government might have something to say about that, since all of those men were convicted of felonies. The federal government may not want them voting."

"Come on, Chief. If the politicians think they can get votes out of it, they will not stop our governor from releasing them. Besides, I disagree with you, it's a state's issue."

"You may be right, but I am still going to try. Before we do that, I want to see Judge Thatcher."

The door to the office opened. Ed and Eve entered, and came down the ramp. After getting themselves a cup of coffee, they joined Mark and Ironside at the table. "So, what's on the agenda for today," Ed asked.

"You and Eve are going to continue looking over those files. Mark and I are going to go see Judge Thatcher and the governor. Let's go Mark."

Sanger followed Ironside up the ramp, pushing him as he went. They went down in the elevator to the van. Mark drove to courthouse and parked in a handicapped spot next to the building. When they arrived at Judge Thatcher's chambers, they were met by his clerk.

"Can I help you, Chief Ironside?" the young man asked.

"I would like to see Judge Thatcher," Ironside told him.

Looking somewhat confused, he said, "I wasn't aware you had an appointment, Chief."

"I don't. Tell the judge I am here," he said with such authority, the clerk immediately left them and headed for the judge's chambers.

"Chief, you don't suppose you could ask without scaring the poor kid to death?" Mark said.

"It gets them moving." Ironside grinned.

Moments later, the clerk came back. "Judge Thatcher said he would see you. Follow me."

"Thank you, but I know the way," Ironside said gruffly. "Mark, you stay here." Ironside wheeled his chair over and knocked on the judge's door.

"Come in, Robert."

Ironside opened the door and entered the judge's chambers. "Hello, Herman?"

"Robert, are you ever going to learn to make an appointment?" Thatcher said with a smile.

"No one makes an appointment to see me," Ironside said.

Thatcher chuckled. "So, you don't have to, is that it?"

Ironside grinned at him without responding to his question.

"All right, what is so important you couldn't make an appointment?"

"Ross Howard, that's what."

"Howard, you mean the television personality who was convicted in my courtroom of killing his wife?"

"That's the one. He is being abused in prison, and I suspect the guards are doing nothing to protect him."

"Of all people, you are the last one I would think would be concern about the man. You couldn't stand him."

"I couldn't stand what he did. I had no feelings about him one way or the other," Ironside responded.

"Okay, so tell me what has the burr under your saddle?" Thatcher asked.

"I just told you. I was at the prison, and it was clear he had been beaten."

"Robert, you know fully well that goes on in prisons, especially where the murderers are housed."

"Does that mean it is all right?"

"Oh course not. Don't be condescending."

"I am sorry if I was."

"What is it you are asking of me?" Thatcher wondered.

"I believe he should transferred to a prison for lesser offenses."

"You must be kidding. You want to put a murderer in prison with someone who embezzled money, or other offenses of that nature?"

"Ross Howard is not going to murder anyone in prison, Herman."

"Really? He murdered his wife."

"He did that because she was blackmailing him into a divorce and he thought it would hurt his run for the senate. Look, Herman, I am not excusing what he did. You know how I feel about murder. It is a heinous crime. Those who commit it deserve to be locked up for life, or receive the death penalty. But, I am also a believer in protecting people, no matter where they are, what they did, and that includes prison inmates."

"Why didn't take this to Warden Leyton?"

"I did. I talked him into moving him out of the cell he was sharing with Burl Bricker, and putting him in one with a much meeker prisoner."

"You mean you bullied him into it," Thatcher said with a slight smile.

"Whatever works," Ironside said.

"Let's me realistic, Robert. Warden Leyton complied with your request to move Howard. I think you should give this time to work out. Leyton is a good warden. He won't allow Howard to be beaten up. If it happens, he will address it. I don't see any reason to move Howard to another prison. If anything further happens, then I will consider it. Will that satisfy you?"

"No, but that isn't going to change your mind, is it?" Ironside said.

The judge smiled. "You know I always listen to you, and I have supported you on many things in the past. This time, I just feel you haven't given the warden the time to address the issue. For that reason, I am not willing to have Howard moved to another prison, especially one that houses prisoners of lesser crimes. He committed a murder. He is where he belongs. If things don't straighten out, then his attorney can petition to move him, and I will agree. Will that satisfy you, Robert?"

"I guess it will have to," Ironside said. "Thanks for your time, Herman." Ironside turned his chair around and headed for the door.

"Robert . . ."

The chief turned his chair back toward Thatcher. "Yes."

"I do hear you, and I am concerned. Keep in touch on this. Oh, and Robert, you might call and make an appointment next time."

"You can count on me keeping in touch, and fat chance on the appointment." Ironside turned his chair around once again and left the judge's chambers.

Thatcher chuckled and shook his head. Only Robert Ironside got away with speaking to him that way.

3

The room was already hot and the presses didn't help matters any. Why in the world did prison jumpsuits have to be pressed? Ross Howard hated the job they assigned him to. Then again, he would've hated any job he was assigned. It was a far cry from the life he was use to. He had a beautiful home in the richest part of San Francisco. He had millions of dollars and a job he loved. Why couldn't Ironside see how much good he could have done as a senator? If he wasn't so bias against him, he would've seen all the good Ross did exposing the phonies.

Ironside went after him for one reason. That was because Ross went after Captain Finch. The cripple couldn't handle it because he was criticizing his precious police force. He wouldn't have otherwise. Ross's stomach was really sour and he didn't have his tablets that he popped into his mouth. The damn prison guards wouldn't allow him to keep them. As a result, Ross skipped many a meal because of his stomach. Martha thought he was losing weigh because he had no desire to live, when, in fact, it was because half the time he couldn't eat. Although, he didn't really have a reason to live either.

He continued running the press when Burl Bricker came up behind him. "Do you really think you could get away from me by crying to Ironside?"

Ross turned around. "I didn't go crying to Ironside. It was his idea. Believe me, Ironside doesn't like me at all."

"I don't believe you. You went running to Ironside. He was seen going in to see the warden. Right after that, you are transferred out of my cell and into a cell with that pathetic Danny Gorman. Now, what would you think if I were you?"

"I wouldn't because I wouldn't care less," Ross said.

Bricker doubled his fist and slugged Howard in the stomach. Howard went down to the floor with the wind knocked out of him. "Let that be a lesson to you. I don't tolerate smart mouths. I run this prison. You better get use to it. Now, where are the cigarettes you were supposed to get for me?"

"Get your own damn cigarettes, Bricker. I'm not your servant. It won't matter how many time you beat me up or how many times you act the big man around here, I won't take orders from you."

Bricker nodded at a couple inmates who were standing around. They reached down and pulled Howard to his feet. "Then you are in for daily beatings until you figure out who is the boss around here." He slugged him again in the stomach. On Howard's way to the floor, he slugged him in the jaw. The other inmates stood around watching and laughing.

At a distance Phillip Brody watched. Standing beside him, Jeremy Smith looked from him to the scene unfolding across the room. "Aren't you going to do something. They could kill him."

Disgusted with the young guard, who didn't seem to understand how prisons worked, he didn't bother to answer. Sooner or later, the kid would finally come around. All it would take would be for him to be found alone by Burl Bricker. He could arrange that. In fact, he would. Then the stupid kid would keep his mouth shut.

"Phil, I know for a fact the warden told you to see no harm came to Howard. Why are you just standing there? We need to break it up." He watched Brody, who was ignoring him. "If you won't, I will." As he started toward the inmates, Brody grabbed his arm.

"No, you won't. Do you want to get yourself beaten or worse, killed? Howard is hard-headed. He needs to learn his place in here. A few beatings will take care of that. We are going to do nothing. Understand?"

"I'm going to the warden."

Again, Brody stopped him. "Don't even try. I'll make sure you regret it if you do. You don't think I have control of Bricker? Where do you think he gets his power from? Let me enlighten you. Me, that's where he gets it. Would you like to be on the receiving end of his power. You just stand there and shut up, if you know what's good for you."

Jeremy had no choice but to stand there and watch Bricker beat up Ross Howard. He didn't like the segment Howard did on the prison anymore than anyone else. Nothing Howard did in the TV show about the prison justified what Brody was allowing. He had to do something about it. Jeremy wasn't about to stand by and watch it. He jerked his arm away from Brody and hurried over to the confrontation. "That's enough, Bricker!"

Burl turned to see the young guard. He knew Brody would do nothing about what he was about to do. He gabbed Smith, lifted him in the air, and head butted him as hard as he could. Having done it many times to others, it didn't bother or hurt him. Letting go of the guard, Smith fell to the floor. Bricker could tell he was near being knocked out.

One of the inmates reached down and picked him up. Another joined in, holding him in an upright position. Bricker kneed him in the groin. The inmates served as his legs, as Smith went limp, holding his crotch.

From behind them, Body shouted, "Okay, boys, you have had your fun. That's enough. Several other guards, having watched Brody intervene, finally walk over to join the young guard. They helped Jeremy Smith to his feet. "Everyone! Back to work, now!"

All the inmates who were watching the ruckus, turned back to their presses, including Burl Bricker. Phillip Brody stood in front of Jeremy Smith. "Return to your posts," he ordered the other guards. Looking at Smith, he shook his head. "Didn't I tell you to stay out of it?"

Jeremy was fuming. Phil had purposely allowed Bricker to beat him. "I am reporting this to the warden," he snarled.

"Go ahead. It won't do you any good. The rest of the guys will side with me and you know it. They will say it was your own fault, that you were trying to bully Burl Bricker. Bricker will say whatever I want him to say."

"Even if the warden doesn't believe me, there is one man who will. You do something about Bricker, or I will go to Chief Ironside. Do you think he will accept your explanation after I tell him what happened here? I am not kidding, Phil. This has to stop. You stop it or I will."

Brody stared at the young guard with distain. "You won't live long enough to go to Ironside. All I have to do is mention it to Bricker. He hates Ironside. He'll take care of you, and there will not be a sole that will testify against him, including me."

"Murder!" Smith said in disgust. "You belong with them." He pointed at the inmates. You're no better than they are. Don't think your threats are going to stop me." Jeremy Smith stomped off in a huff.

One of the other guards came up behind Brody. "He is going to be a problem, boss."

"Not for long. Tell Bricker to take care of him. Make sure it looks like Ross Howard is responsible. Got it?"

The guard smiled. "Got it."

"And make sure none of the other goody two-shoe guards see or hear anything. I don't want to make a habit of wasting guards."

"Not a problem. Bricker is particularly good at just that. By the way, I think there is one thing you are not considering," the guard said.

"And what would that be?" Brody asked , his attention fully on his number two man.

"For some reason, Ironside is trying to protect Ross Howard. I don't understand it, as he showed complete contempt for him. Anyway, have you taken into consideration if you off Smith and blame Howard, it just might bring Ironside into the prison to investigate?"

Brody smiled. "I am counting on it. It is time someone teach that cripple he can't stick his nose where it doesn't belong."

"Are you sure you want him involved? He's not a stupid cop, you know. The proof is in the number of guys in here whom he is responsible for putting here."

"That's just it. Do you know how many guys are in this prison who would like to put a stop to Ironside?" Brody said with a grin.

The guard laughed. "You are playing with fire. People who play with fire often get burned."

"Maybe, but I have waited a long time to get even with Ironside. Howard being brought in here gave me my chance. I have been planning this from the start. I knew despite Ironside's contempt for the man, he would try to protect him. He has that sickening nobleness about him. He feels Howard belongs in prison, but believes every man should serve his term like he was vacationing in Disneyland. Yet, the damn cop knows what goes on in prisons. Why has he taken an interest in Howard? I'll tell you why. He put him in here in a very high profile trial. If he doesn't protect him, and something happens to him, he will be blamed. It is as simple as that."

"What did Ironside ever do to you?" the guard asked.

"Not me. My dad and my brother. Dad was out of a job, trying to take care of my mother, my brother and me. My mother had cancer. The hospital and doctor expenses drained us. We had no money, nothing to eat. The house was being foreclosed on and the car was repossessed. My brother and my dad went to the Wells Fargo bank in disguise. All he was going to do was take enough money to tie us over until he could find a job. It happened to be the bank where Ironside does business. My brother was holding a gun on those who in the lobby, while my dad was collecting money. Ironside and his sergeant came in, acting causally, but they knew what was going on. They were armed and ready with their guns out of sight. My dad and my brother turned around, raised their guns at them. Ironside and Brown shot them. They both died later in the hospital. My mother died of cancer two months later. My entire family gone, just like that."

"Wow! I didn't know. No wonder you hate Ironside. But what about Brown? He helped Ironside kill your dad and brother."

"I got that figured out. I am betting he comes in here with Brown."

"Okay, I'll help you. I'll talk to Bricker. He'll cooperate. He hates Ironside as much as you do. He's a devious son-of-a-bitch. He'll find a way to blame it on Howard. You can count on it." Chuck Baldwin grinned.

4

Pots and pans were clanking in the kitchen as Eve did the dishes for Mark, who was studying for a major exam. Ironside sat at the table with Ed Brown going over the many files to decide who should be released from prison and who should remain incarcerated. With every bang of a pot or pan, Ironside would frown. Ed could tell it wouldn't be long before the chief complained. He was right.

Ironside turned his head. "Eve, I thought I told you before you should not be doing the dishes. You are not paid to be a maid."

Eve smiled without turning around. She was waiting for the chief's complaining she knew would come. "Mark has a test coming up. The least I can do is do the dishes for him so he can study."

"Leave the dishes. They can be done later," Ironside insisted.

"Mark shouldn't have to do them later. I don't mind doing them for him."

Ed almost chuckled at the exchange between Eve and the chief . . . almost. He was sitting too close to the chief, and did not want to get the 'look' from the boss. He decided to offer a difference solution. "Neither Mark nor Eve would have to do dishes if we had a dishwasher. They could just be loaded into it in a matter of a couple minutes."

Ironside looked at him in surprise. "That's an excellent idea, Sergeant Brown. Now, are you going to ask the commissioner for the money to purchase one, or are you going to generously donate the money to buy one?"

Eve finished up the dishes and joined them at the table. "We could all chip in and purchase one."

"Do you know what those things cost?" Ironside said.

"Well, no. I haven't checked the price of one lately," Eve answered.

"Around $600 to $700," Ed answered.

"Oh," Eve said.

"Now divide that by three," Ironside said.

"Three? But there are four of us," Eve pointed out.

"I wasn't the one who suggested it," the chief said.

"May I point out neither did Mark?" Ed said, not taking his eyes of the latest file he was going over.

Ironside looked at Eve. "That leaves you and Ed. Make sure you include the cost of having it installed," he said sarcastically.

"I would rather ask the commissioner," Ed said.

"Ask the commissioner what?" Randall said as he entered the office with Governor James Gannon.

Ironside turned his chair to greet the commissioner, when he noticed the governor was with him. "Hello, Commissioner. Governor Gannon, I was going to come to see you today."

"Dennis told me you wanted to talk to me about the prisoner release. Since I he said he was coming over to talk to you, I thought I would tag along. I hope that is all right."

"Of course it is," Ironside said. "Have a seat. Eve, get the commissioner and the governor a cup of coffee." Eve got up and went back into the kitchen.

"What were you going to ask me?" Dennis said.

"What?" Ironside responded.

"Ed said he would rather ask me. What about?" Randall sat down, waiting for the chief to enlighten him.

"Oh that. Ed and Eve seem to think there should be a dishwasher installed in the kitchen."

"Why? You have Mark to do those kind of chores," Randall said.

Ironside looked over at Ed and Eve and said, "I guess that means the two of you will have to spilt the cost of the dishwasher since it was your idea."

"It wasn't my idea, it was Ed's," Eve said.

"Traitor," Ed remarked.

The governor laughed. "You people sound a bit dysfunctional."

"They are, believe me," Randall responded. "But, they are still the best in the department."

"Well, let's get to what I am here for. Dennis tells me you are not happy with my decision to release prisoners."

Ironside blew out a breath. He wanted to weigh what he said carefully. The goal was to get the governor to back off on most of the releases. "Governor, I am a firm believer if you do the crime, you do the time. I also believe in parole for those who have done most of their time if they have been model prisoners. But I am talking those who are not in prison for violet crimes. I am sure you are aware how hard it is to build cases against those who commit crimes.

"We have been going over these records since yesterday. Governor, most of these men should remain where they are. You are proposing we release most of them, when some of them have barely served hardly any of their sentences. They may not have committed murder, but a lot of these are crimes of violence, assault and battery for one. Do you really want to release these inmates on society. The job market is down right now, so chances of most of them getting jobs is not good. So, how are they going to pay for a place to live and food to eat?"

"Robert, I understand your concerns. Unfortunately, we have a problem. That prison is way overcrowded. We don't have a choice. The reason I have asked you and your staff to go over them is because I don't want anyone released that you are certain will return to a life of crime. I know we are taking a chance, and frankly, I don't like it any more than you do. It is going to happen. I need your help. I am asking you to make sure the truly violet men stay in prison, and we only release those who are less likely to go back to committing crimes."

Ironside was afraid this would be the governor's stance on the problem. "Why not ask the state house and senate for the money to build another prison?"

"That, of course, would be the ideal solution, but reality is they won't approve it. It would mean raising taxes in the state of California considerably higher than they already are. The people in this state would never go for it. I hate to say it, Robert, but they would rather see us empty the prisons first."

"Move them to a prison outside of the state," Ed suggested.

"We have tried that as well, Sergeant. So far there have been no takers. It seems everyone has the same problem."

"Then you are going to go through with this no matter the objections and the downside of doing it?" Ironside asked.

"I am afraid so. I don't have a choice. There isn't anywhere to put those committing murder and other extremely violent. Those dealing the lesser violent crimes will be released unless you can give a solid reason why an individual should not be."

The chief had his say. There wasn't any changing the governor's mind. He knew what he was about to say would upset Governor Gannon, but he was going to say it anyway. "You present a bill to give the vote to felons . . ."

"Just a minute, Robert! I know the papers said it was my idea; that I was trolling for votes, but it simply isn't true. If that bill passes the senate and house, I will veto it, plain and simple. I can't guarantee they won't override my veto."

"At least that is good to hear," Ironside said.

"Do the best you can, Robert. We'll just have to hope for the best. I promise I will not release anyone you deem too violent to be allowed back into society."

Ironside nodded. There wasn't anything more he could do. It was going to happen, and he wasn't going to be able to prevent it. "All right, Governor, my staff and I will have our recommendations by the end of the week."

"That's fair enough. And Robert, your staff and efforts you put forth to help keep San Francisco and the state of California safe do no go unnoticed."

"Thank your for that," Ironside said.

"Well, I must get moving. My staff has three appearance set up for me today in different parts of the state. One down, two to go. Good luck, Robert." He shook Ironside's hand and left his office.

Randall knew that look on his friend's face. "You did what you could, Bob. At least he has agreed to take your recommendations. That is more than even I was expecting. I frankly thought this was all for show; that he would ignore you and release them all."

"Who says he won't?" Ed said. "Politicians have a habit of saying one thing and doing another."

"I think he was sincere," Randall said. "Time will tell. Well, I will let you get back to the job at hand." The commissioner stood up, glanced down at Robert Ironside, and then left his office.

5

Chuck Baldwin was nearing the end of his shit. He didn't yet speak with Burl Bricker about Jeremy Smith. Bricker enjoyed killing. He wouldn't have a problem taking care of Smith. In fact, he hadn't been asked to kill anyone for some time now, and would undoubtedly jump at the chance to do in the young guard. He hated him anyway. Smith was always interfering with Burl keeping the other prisoners in line. Philip should have allowed Burl to put him in the hospital. Maybe then he would've got the message and go on board with he way things were run in the prison. Instead, the kid had to be eliminated. Threatening to go to Ironside or the warden was signing his own death warrant.

Idealist kids! There was no such thing as fairness in the world today. They would learn the hard way. Hopefully, most of them did before they faced Jeremy Smith's fate. Chuck remembered when he was the same idealist kid. Then he took this job and realized how many guys were in the prison he didn't believe belonged here. Then there were guys like Bricker who got away with everything up to and including murder, despite being in prison where it was supposed to prevent it.

Chuck barely made enough in wages to keep his head above water. Yet, he came to work every day, risking his life among murders, rapist, and who knows what. The state never considered prison guards should be paid a lot more money than they were giving them. Due to the state's deficit, there wages were frozen for the last two years. That's idealism for you.

Baldwin arrived at the cell Burl Bricker was in. Looking in, he could see Bricker lying on the bed reading a book. "Nothing to do but read, huh?"

Bricker looked up over the top of his book. "What else is there to do? You took Howard away from me. I don't even have him to beat up on."

"You can blame Ironside for that, Burl. We had nothing to do with it," Chuck told him.

"I'd love to get my hands on Ironside. He's the one who sent me here."

Chuck laughed. "Well, you just might get your chance. Phil has something planned. It involves getting rid of one of the guards. Are you game?"

"The kid, right?"

"That's right. Jeremy Smith is causing problems with the way we run things. He is threatening to go to the warden and Ironside. If he does that, you will lose all your privileges, not to mention, we would have to stop you from bullying the other prisoners. You would be reduced to their status in this prison. I don't think you would like that, would you, Burl?"

Bricker sat up on his bunk. "That would be unfortunate. What did you have in mind?"

"Kill the kid and pin it on Ross Howard. That will bring Ironside here to investigate. Then you get your chance at him as well."

A grin appeared on Burl Bricker's face. "We have a deal. I'll take care of the kid."

"I knew you would see things our way. "Remember, make sure Howard takes the fall."

"Consider it done."

Chuck Baldwin walked away confident things were put into motion.