Lawrence watched the guard take his slow patrol around the cellblock. He stood in the darkness near the bars. Waiting.
It was nearly time.
He glanced at the bunk bed and the brute in the upper bunk. He pretended to be asleep, but Bentley was watching Lawrence. He's afraid, Lawrence thought. He's afraid that what's about to happen will happen here.
Lawrence almost told him to go to sleep. Bentley was a nuisance. This other thing. This was business.
He could almost picture it. Ramirez was a scrawny type, supposedly a local drug dealer caught in a sting operation. But he had been asking questions - about Lawrence, about who he talked to, about what they said. And Lawrence had noticed the way Ramirez watched him when he was outside his cell.
Taking mental notes that he could hand back to his masters.
Who were they? he wondered. Were they ISA? FBI? Salem PD? It hardly mattered. Even with Donovan out of the way due to those ridiculous charges, Lawrence had known the authorities would continue their unjustified campaign against him. He grinned as he stared into the darkness. Tonight, that campaign would have a major setback.
Lawrence had bought a man easily. A few hundred dollars in this place could buy just about anything. Getting it in was easy. He just had it smuggled in by a guard. Another inmate passed the money along during a book delivery for a few dollars more. Ivan did the rest, arranging a couple of bribes that now delivered Ramirez to a new cell. And a new cellmate.
With a chuckle at how simple the arrangements had been, Lawrence leaned against the bars and listened. Mostly silence except for a few snoring inmates and a pair rutting a few cells down. Was it rape? Lawrence did not know. Frankly, he did not care. A prison was Darwinian theory in practice. Survival of the fittest was all that mattered here. And Lawrence was a survivor.
In the distance, he heard it. A strangled cry. Then a few more. And then some shouts.
The lights blazed on, forcing Lawrence to shield his eyes from the sudden glare. Guards ran down the catwalk, their batons out. There was more shouting.
He tried to see what was happening, but even with his head pressed against the cell bars, all he could see was a crowd of guards clustered around a cell.
So Lawrence waited. He heard the yells of the guards and the shouts of other inmates. A few minutes later, a doctor and some prison orderlies rushed past his cell with a gurney.
Confirmation came a few minutes later. Guided by a half-dozen guards, Lawrence's man sauntered down the catwalk. Dark red blood covered his hands and arms, and bloodstains spattered his grey jumpsuit. As he passed Lawrence's cell, the man gave an almost imperceptible smile and slight nod of his head. The meaning was clear.
It's done.
Lawrence watched the man lead the guards down the stairs to the solitary cell where would spend the next few weeks. With a smile, Lawrence turned and leaned back against the cell bars. Bentley watched him with wide eyes and cowered back under the covers.
Don't worry, Lawrence thought. You're nothing. Ramirez was business.
And, tonight, business was good - very, very good.