Earthquake in San Francisco
Chapter 5
1
Mark pulled Chief Ironside's van up to the entrance of the prison. The guard didn't need to looked into the van to know who was inside. The chief's van was recognizable to just about anyone in the justice system.
"Hi, Chief," Norman Duncan said.
"Well, hello, Norman. How's the wife and kids," Ironside said pleasantly.
"Fine, sir. Thanks for asking. You're here for Frank Hunt's parole hearing, aren't you?"
"That's right."
"As much as I'd like to see you keep that man behind bars, the deck is stacked against you."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, word is, despite the fact everyone keeps calling him the model prisoner, it isn't true. I've heard he paid off the assistant warden, who convinced the warden he deserves to be paroled."
Ironside and Mark shared a glance before the chief turned back to the prison guard. "Do you have any proof of that?"
"No sir, but every guard that has dealt with Hunt says he's been involved with various things that have gone on in the prison, but since the other prisoners are scared of him, they won't talk."
That was exactly what Ironside was afraid of. Hunt was capable of what Norman was telling him. It only made Ironside more determined to stop Hunt from getting his parole. "Thanks for the tip, Norman."
"My pleasure chief. Not that it'll do any good, but I thought you should know before you go in there.
Ironside nodded at Mark. Sanger drove the van through the gates and parked it in a handicap spot in the parking lot. By the time he was out of the vehicle and walked around the other side, his boss was already coming down on the lift. Ironside and Sanger went through two security checks before they were allowed to continue to the hearing room. When they entered, the parole board was already seated behind the long, curved table. Two other tables were set up in front of them. Only one was marked. It had a name plate with Frank Hunt's name on it, and another with the name of Derwin Oles. Ironside remembered the man instantly. He was known for pleading the cases for prisoners trying to obtain parole. He had a reputation for being very good, and his record proved that. Oles successfully pleaded parole for over a hundred inmates. He was the lawyer for Hunt the last time he applied for parole. It was one of the few times he lost the debate. The chief suspected he was taking bribes from the men he defended at the parole hearings.
Warden Leydon stood up and walked over to Ironside. "I was hoping you'd reconsider, Robert."
Ironside had a great deal of respect for the warden, but this was one time Warden Leydon was just plain wrong. "I know what kind of man Frank Hunt is. You haven't rehabilitated him, Warden. He'll go back to what he was doing before I arrested him. Furthermore, you just may be turning a killer back on the streets."
"Come on, Robert, there's no proof to substantiate that accusation."
"There will be, Warden. I intend to find it," Ironside responded.
There wasn't anything the warden could say to change Robert Ironside's mind. Once he made it up, he was like a bulldog with a bone. Warden Leydon patted the detective on the shoulder and went back to his seat at the center of the curved table. Moments later, Frank Hunt came into the room with his lawyer. They took their place at the table behind their name plates.
Warden Leydon took immediate control of the hearing. "We're here today to determine if Frank Hunt should be granted his freedom. After serving 15 of his 20 years, Mister Hunt has applied for parole. Now, in the past he's done so, but this board didn't see fit to approve parole at the time. I'll now give the floor to Mister Derwin Oles, counsel for Mister Hunt."
"Thank you for the opportunity to speak on Mister Hunt's behalf," Oles began. "First of all, Mister Hunt truly regrets his actions of 15 years ago. The time he's spent in prison has given him the chance to reflect on the gravity of what he did that day. He not only knows it was illegal, he knows that it was morally wrong. His remorse is deep for the pain and suffering he's caused those who were in the bank at the time. If he could go back to that day right now, things would've been different. As his attorney, I feel he's paid his debt to society, and this time his parole should be granted to re-enter society in order to rebuild his life and become the productive member I know he can be. I urge the parole board to grant that parole." Derwin Oles sat back down.
"Thank you, Mister Oles," Warden Leydon said. He looked over at Robert Ironside and announced, "Chief Robert Ironside of the San Francisco Police Department is here today. It seems he doesn't share Mister Oles belief that Mister Hunt should be released. He's come here as the arresting officer to address the board. Chief, you may come forward and speak."
Ironside wheeled his chair and rested it beside the table where Frank Hunt was sitting. Looking at the board with his steely blue eyes, he said, "Warden Leydon is certainly correct when he states I don't agree Mister Oles' assessment of Mister Hunt's parole. I was there the day he robbed the bank. He showed no regard for the lives and safety of the employees and customers."
"Chief, this is nothing you haven't already told this parole board," Warden Leydon pointed out.
"Warden, I am repeating it because it is true, and this board needs to be reminded. Nothing has changed since the last request for parole. This man hasn't changed. If he is released from this institution, he'll go back to doing exactly what he was doing before I arrested him. You'll be responsible for turning this man on society. Therefore, you'd better think twice about granting parole to a man that has already proven himself to be violent and willing to point a gun at a fellow human being. Sooner or later, he'll do more than point the gun. He will kill someone, and you'll have to live with that. I suggest you make this decision wisely."
When Ironside finished, Leydon thanked him for coming and excused both him, Hunt and his lawyer. Ironside wheeled out of the conference room and into the hall where Mark Sanger was waiting for him. Hunt came out after him, along with his attorney. The chief noticed there seemed to be a disagreement between them. When they finished, Frank Hunt walked toward Ironside. Mark saw him coming and stepped in front of his boss off to his left.
"Relax, Sanger. I'm not a threat to Chief Ironside. Besides, I've heard he is pretty adapt at taking care of himself. I just want to speak with the chief. You're welcome to stay while I do so."
"You can count on it," Mark said.
Hunt turned his attention to Robert Ironside. "Chief, I know you think I haven't changed, but you are wrong. I just want to get out of here, get myself a decent, legitimate job, and start over. I don't have any hard feelings about you sending me up. You were just doing your job. I know that now. A man can change, Chief. I've changed. I'll present no further problem for you, the police department, or the city of San Francisco."
"You may have pulled the wool over the parole board's eyes, Mister Hunt, but I know better. You're a crook. If they release you, you'll go back to stealing, and killing. You're a killer, Hunt. You know it and I know it. I suspect the parole board will grant your parole, but I'm putting you on notice. I intend to prove you killed Zack Hill. The case has already been opened. If you're granted parole, you better enjoy your time out because I won't stop until I find the evidence to put you right back here where you belong."
The expression on Hunt's face changed and betrayed the hatred he had for the detective. "Go ahead, Ironside, you can't prove a thing. You couldn't before and you won't this time."
"I wouldn't bet the farm on that if I were you, Hunt. Then again, you wouldn't hesitate to bet the farm because; you would've stolen it in the first place," Ironside said.
"You have a big mouth, Ironside. Someone ought to shut it for you."
"You, Mister Hunt? You all ready plan to according to the call that came from a prison inmate. You can try, but you won't succeed. You're a stupid crook. You'll screw up when you try to it'll be one more nail in your coffin. You'll have an attempted murder charge to add to the murder charge."
"Your days are numbered, Ironside. Sooner or later someone is going to waste you. I look forward to that day," Hunt turned to walk away.
"It's your days that are numbered, Mister Hunt. This time you won't be able to fool anyone. You won't ever be granted parole again. You're finish. You're a crook and a stupid one at that," Ironside repeated.
Hunt turned back, his face red with anger, headed straight at Ironside. Mark Sanger stepped in front of his boss. Hunt ran into Mark, who shoved him back. Derwin Oles hurried over and got in between Hunt and Sanger.
"What the hell is wrong with you, Frank? The parole board is in there deciding whether to grant your parole, and you're fighting with the one man trying to keep you in here? I told you to stay away from him!"
"I can't stand that damn cop! He's going to get his!" Hunt shouted.
Oles looked at the conference room. He worried the scuffle might draw the attention of the parole board. Fortunately, no one came out. If the exchange was overheard, there wasn't an indication of it. Oles continued to push Hunt away from Ironside and Sanger. He wasn't worried about Ironside's reaction. The man was as cool as a cucumber. The bigger concern was Sanger. He'd do anything to protect the detective. If Hunt got into it with him, they were certain to draw the attention of the parole board inside the conference room, regardless of the thickness of the doors. Once he'd pushed Frank Hunt a good distance from Ironside, he started bringing him down from his agitated state. The two of them sat down on a bench as far away from Ironside as Oles could get them. He wanted no further altercations with the San Francisco detective.
The wait was about 15 minutes before Warden Leydon came out of the conference room. "Mister Hunt, will you join us please?"
Hunt and Oles stood up and followed him into the conference room. Ironside wasn't invited to join them. He knew what that meant. Hunt had been granted his parole. The chief shook his head. They were about to turn a killer back on society; a man who'd surely kill again. Ironside had his work cut out for him. He now had to find the evidence that Frank Hunt killed Zack Hill, and he was determined to do exactly that. Hunt wasn't going to remain on the streets for long if he'd anything to say about it.
A few minutes later, Warden Leydon came out of the conference room. He spotted Ironside and Sanger and walked over to them. "The parole board has granted Frank Hunt his parole."
Ironside shook his head in disgust. "You just turned a cold-blooded killer back on the streets."
"He's never been accused of murder, Robert."
"Only because we didn't find enough evidence for a conviction. He killed Zack Hill, and I intend to prove it."
"Let it go, Robert. Allow the man to start over," Leydon said.
"Start over? Doing what? He'll go right back to what he was doing. You and the parole board will have whoever he eventually kills on your head. Hopefully, I'll be able to put him right back here before that happens."
"Robert, he'll have his attorney file a complaint with the mayor's office against you for harassment. Oles stated after the parole was granted that you wouldn't leave Frank Hunt alone. You could be facing a charge."
"You think so? The mayor told the commissioner to order me to investigate the death of Zack Hill, Warden, and that is exactly what I intend to do." Warden Leydon shook his head and walked away.
The doors to the conference room opened. Frank Hunt and Derwin Oles came out. Hunt supported a huge grin. Oles said something to him and then walked away. Hunt looked over at Ironside. He couldn't resist a little gloating. He headed in the detective's direction.
When Ironside saw him coming toward him, he turned his chair around and said to Sanger, "Let's get out of here, Mark."
Hunt was not about to let the pig cop get away without a little gloating on his part. He hurried around Ironside's chair and blocked his path. Mark immediately walked around to defend the chief if it became necessary.
"Too bad, Ironside, you lost and I won," he said with a smirk.
"You won the battle, Mister Hunt, but you haven't won the war. I intend to see you put right back here behind bars. We both know you killed Zack Hill and I intend to prove it."
"Go ahead, my attorney has already discussed that with me. If you harass me, he'll contact the mayor's office, file a complaint with the police department, and sue the police if we have to. I don't think that'll be necessary. A call to the mayor's office will put a stop to your investigation." Hunt's smirk only grew bolder.
"You think so?" Ironside countered. "It was the mayor who ordered me to reopen the case in the first place. Go ahead and sue. It won't do you any good. There was evidence which pointed at you; I'm simply going to re-examine it. Enjoy your time on the outside, Mister Hunt. It won't last long. Let's go, Mark."
Sanger stepped behind his boss's chair and began pushing. When Hunt didn't move, Mark rammed the chair into his leg. That forced him to get out of the way.
"I intend to get you, Ironside. There isn't a cop alive who is going to stop me. You're a dead man," Hunt said, lowering his voice to make sure no one heard him except the detective and his aide.
Ironside turned his chair around to face Hunt. "I'll consider that a challenge; one I accept. You're going down and there's not a parole board anywhere that is going to stop it." He turned his chair around and began wheeling away. Instead of pushing the detective, Mark backed away from Hunt, prepared to protect Chief Ironside if the need arose.
2
Ed and Vivian held hands as they went through Sax Fifth Avenue. Under Ed's opposite arm, he held a box. It contained clothes Vivian had insisted buying for him. He'd fought her to no avail. The one thing Ed learned about her was when she made up her mind, he wasn't changing it. He finally gave up and let her purchase a casual shirt and a pair of slacks.
As they left the store, Vivian stopped, turned, and looked up into the brown eyes of the handsome detective. "I am going to spoil you rotten, Ed Brown. I'll make sure you never want to return to San Francisco again."
Ed looked away from her. "Viv, I promised to think about it. I didn't say I'd take the job with the New York Police Department."
"I know what you said, but I also know how much you love being with me. You'll choose me over Chief Ironside."
"This isn't a contest between you and the chief."
"Yes, it is. He's the reason you stay in that infernal city. I intend to break his hold on you," Vivian said.
Ed sighed. "The reason I live in San Francisco is that I love the city and I love what I do. Having the chief for a boss is an extra bonus. I don't think you understand that a position in Chief Ironside's office is coveted by detectives all over the city."
"I find that hard to believe. The man is insufferable," Vivian said, pouting. She regretted the statement as soon as she saw the look on Ed's face.
"Robert Ironside is not only my boss, Viv, he's my closest friend. I moved up in the department because of him. He's taught me more about detective work than everyone else put together. I'd appreciate it if you didn't make statements like that about him."
"I know what he's taught you; you keep reminding me," she said, rolling her eyes. She could tell he was holding back anger. Vivian couldn't understand why Ironside had such a hold over Ed. He certainly wasn't anyone she could admire. Why did Ed have so much respect for the cripple? She just didn't understand it. Vivian knew one thing for sure; she intended to break that hold. Ed Brown was staying here in New York with her. He wouldn't be returning to San Francisco and that insufferable cop.
Vivian had gotten him the interview with the NYPD, but that was only to lure him to New York City. Once she had him here, she'd lure him away from police work altogether. The profession was simply beneath him. She couldn't stay with him if he continued to be a cop. She loathed the profession. Vivian would go along with it for now, but only for now.