When Dagur entered the session room the next day, he could see that Farid's demeanor was solemn. Noticing as well, Gobber hesitantly left the two to talk. The inmate had an uncertain expression on his face.
"What happened, Doc?"
"Heather went to find Oswald last night."
"And…did she?"
Farid nodded glumly. "She did. He had passed away. I'm sorry."
Dagur paused before frowning. "How long?"
"The pathologists are going to get an approximate date later today, but from the amount of decomposition, he couldn't have been dead for three years. It's clear that you didn't kill him. He didn't even have a cut on his body that could have led to him dying."
"Could Heather see if there was something else that seemed like it caused his death? Any gunshot wounds or anything?"
"Not from what she saw. We'll have to wait for the examination."
Dagur paused. "I guess he didn't spend a full three years avoiding me at least. It's weird thinking about him being dead and knowing it's true. I've been the only one who knew he was still alive for so long."
"Before, you said that you would have preferred that he was dead. Do you still feel that way?"
The redhead shrugged at the question. "I'm not sure." His expression became sad. "Was Heather with anyone?"
"She went with her dog, but that was it."
"I guess I wish he was alive so that she wouldn't have had to see that. It also would've been nice if they got to reunite. He loved her so much." He stopped, looking at the table. "I would've wanted to see him too. I've been thinking since you asked what I would say to him and came up with a few things."
"What did you decide?"
Dagur glanced up at the psychologist. "Seems weird to say now. It's not like he'd hear."
"It could offer some closure. Besides, I personally don't think people are ever truly gone."
"You don't?"
"We might not be able to see them, but I don't think they're erased from the world."
"I hope not," the inmate commented. "Okay, I'll try. I would have wanted to tell him that I'm getting better. I'm not the same kid who always got in fights or would break things for fun. I don't get as angry…well, I don't act on it as much anyway." A determined look appeared on his face. "I'd tell him that therapy worked after all. If I'd gotten it years ago like I wanted to, maybe none of this even would have happened. I'd say, 'I'm working to be a better person and someone actually has faith in me now, Dad, even though you never did.' I'd say that and he'd probably forget it as soon as he left if he even showed up here at all."
Dagur stopped and sighed. "It was probably the drugs that killed him. When you find out what did it, will you let me know?"
"I will."
A small smile appeared on the inmate's face. "Thanks." His smile faded as it became sheepish. "Speaking of drugs, I should have some news for you soon about the inmates who are using them. There are definitely some who don't want to, but they're forced and get addicted. I don't know who all is included in this yet."
"How did you find out about the specifics? It seems like you have more information now than you did."
"I do. I've been thinking of what you said about getting involved."
Farid's expression, though calm, became more analytical. "Is there more to this story?"
"Isn't there always with me?" Dagur asked with a smile. "Can I tell you another time?"
"You can, but if it's something that puts you in danger…"
"I don't think there's anything here that wouldn't, but I get what you mean."
The two heard the door open and Gobber entered to get the inmate. Before the handcuffs were attached, Dagur tapped his head.
"I hear your words in this noggin of mine a lot. They keep me out of too much trouble."
This did ease some of Farid's worries, but he still wished that he could have been told the entire situation. Dagur wanted him to know too, but he felt like he would dislike the plan or worse–lose trust in him. He did not want him to suddenly think he was reverting or that he had not improved as much as he initially thought. To prevent that from happening, Dagur would keep this a secret for a while longer. He was not sure how he could convince Farid that it was a good idea when even he was unsure. Only time would tell.
Dagur got back to the cell and began working on meditating more. He would need this skill. While he did, Ryker was planning on the people he was going to get money from for the day. They both sat in silence, then it began to bore Dagur.
"What number?" he asked quietly.
Ryker turned to him in confusion for a moment before realizing what he was asking. "Five."
The other inmate nodded, then began working out. After a few hours, it was time to go for lunch. As the cell doors opened, the officer who had come to get Ryker before was back. This time, he approached Dagur.
"We need to go somewhere."
Dagur tensed, but kept his expression from showing concern. "Where?"
"A place that has to do with what you both do in the yard," he tapped his gun warningly. "I don't plan on using this. Let's just make it easy so that we can get back without anybody getting hurt."
In spite of the nerves in his stomach, Dagur let the restraints be attached. He doubted the alternative would have been in his favor anyway. Once they were on, he and the officer went down the hall and into the room Ryker had entered. Like before, Alvin was there. Dagur felt a pit forming in his stomach as the officer glared at him, not removing the handcuffs.
"You're getting drug money now?"
"Why shouldn't I? It's helping Ryker."
"I didn't expect you to follow in Ansson's footsteps. How much like him do you plan on being?"
The tone of his voice caused Dagur to fight back a scowl. "I'm not Ansson and I don't plan on being. I just want money."
"Through the drugs?"
"I'm bored, Al," he said in a harsh whisper. "I've been here for three years–most of those being spent in solitary. I'm sick of being bored. I want to do something and there's nothing to do. I don't fit in with the others here, so I can't join any of the groups. I don't want to anyway since they'd be too dull. This is something. It lets me be violent when I want to and I want to a lot. Can't be that way with the officers, so I can focus it on the other inmates. If I don't mess up your operation and can get you more money, what's the problem?"
Alvin looked suspicious. "And why should I believe you wouldn't try to sabotage me? You are still sore with me, aren't you?"
He grabbed the inmate by the hair. Dagur frowned at him, but he also noticed the hand was not pulling. It was less to hurt him than it was to elicit a reaction.
"All the times I had the COs look the other way or be the attackers…that night with Ansson." With this, he did begin pulling slightly. "You aren't angry with me about that at all?"
"Of course I am," Dagur hissed. "It's just a losing battle to fight you. Nobody knows that better than I do."
Alvin smiled. "You definitely do, but I wasn't sure if you'd forgotten. You never were very smart. I wasn't sure to what extent."
Dagur felt his blood boiling, but he managed to not respond. This satisfied Alvin and he let go.
"Fine. I think you've been broken enough for me to let you do this. Don't let me down."
The redhead nodded and Alvin gestured for him to turn as he got out the keys to the handcuffs. Hesitantly, the inmate did, but Alvin let go of the keys. Instead, he pulled out his gun and pressed the barrel into the base of Dagur's chin. It pointed upwards towards his skull. The inmate's heart pounded in his ears, but he could still hear the officer.
"It wouldn't take much to blast whatever brains you do have over these walls," he whispered, pushing the gun in further. "One pull of this trigger and that's it for you." Alvin paused. "I don't like being disappointed. I can make that night with Ansson look like a fantasy dream. I'm giving you a chance here, Dagur. If you make me regret it, you will too."
Removing the weapon, the officer pushed the inmate forward. Dagur took a breath and kept himself from glaring at the man. He heard a sound of clanking as Alvin went back to the keys and unlocked his handcuffs. Opening the door, an amused look was on his face.
"Get out before I change my mind."
Thinking out several meditative chants, Dagur left the room and began going to the cafeteria, then yard later. He helped Ryker get more money from the buyers and kept an eye on who all this included. When he wanted to be, he was good with names and the same went for faces. He would need these to be able to tell Farid who exactly needed his help and why. The files the psychologist read would pale in comparison with their ability to tell him about the inmates once Dagur collected his information.
When it was time for the inmates to return to the cells, they were not there for long before another officer came to the cell. Dagur was irritated at first, then he saw Gobber. He hopped down from the bed and went over to the bars.
"What's going on?"
"You have another visitor."
"I do?"
The officer nodded and opened the cell door, attaching the restraints for him to be moved.
"Is it Hiccup?"
"No, not this time."
"Hm, Heather?" Dagur asked hopefully.
Gobber chuckled. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so I'll just show you instead."
Intrigued, the inmate did not ask anything else as they walked. When they arrived, he found that he had a boatload of questions. His eyebrow lifted as he saw two smiling faces on the other side of the glass. They were not entirely unfamiliar, but he also could not say he knew them.
"Hi!" they excitedly said, fighting over the phone.
"Hey," Dagur said unsurely. "Have we met?"
"In passing. I'm Tuffnut and this is Ruffnut."
Realization dawned on the inmate's face. "Oh, I think the doc told me about you. He said you think I'm innocent with not killing my dad."
"We do," Ruff said, winking. "That's w hy we're here if you catch my drift."
Dagur shook his head. "Not really."
"By are here, we mean will be…if you catch our drift," her brother added, also winking.
The redhead began frowning. "Wait," he said slowly, wondering if he was processing the information correctly.
When the twins saw the idea in his eyes, they smiled widely and he got his question answered. He lowered his voice to a whisper.
"That's a terrible idea. Don't do this."
"No one ever gets anywhere by playing it safe," Tuff said. "But maybe I should say that I don't know what you mean. That way, if they ask, you won't be able to tell anyone anything."
Wide smiles returned to their faces and Dagur sighed. Another idea came to mind and he snarled.
"You won't last a day. I could kill you and might."
The twins looked at each other, then leaned in closer to the glass.
"That's pretty convincing," Ruff commended.
"Absolutely. If I didn't know better, I'd believe it, but I do, so I don't."
"It's dangerous," Dagur said, sighing. "Why go through all this? You hardly know me."
"But we know that something is wrong and we can help."
The inmate ran a hand over his face in exasperation. "I'm telling you, don't go through with whatever you're planning. If you get stuck here, you might not be able to get back out."
"Thanks for worrying, but we've talked about the risks."
"Have you?"
"We talked and said there were risks, so I think that about covers it. We have to go. See you soon!"
The twins put the phone on the hook and left before Dagur could say anything else to them. He spent the bulk of the night thinking about what would end up happening if they went through with whatever plan they had concocted. None of the outcomes were pretty. The next day in therapy, it was Farid's turn to see that something was wrong.
"Did something happen after the session that's bothering you?"
Dagur nodded. "Those twins you mentioned, they're blond?"
"They are," Farid confirmed, feeling worried about what was coming next. "What makes you ask?"
"They visited me yesterday and sounded like they wanted to solve this case…from the inside." He leaned forward. "I don't know what they're planning on doing, but they won't make it in here."
Farid sighed. "I didn't think they'd try something like this. I'll reach out to Hiccup and see if he can stop them. I guess it's at least good that they can't both get sent here."
"Why not?"
"Ruffnut's a woman."
Dagur's jaw dropped. "Really? Weird. Well, either way, as small as Tuff was, he'd have to be wilder than me to survive. Is he?"
"Yes and no. I'd say he's more reckless and less violent."
"A beautiful combination," the inmate said sarcastically. "I still don't know how many inmates are involved with Alvin and Ryker. He could get stuck with one as a cellmate or be forced to start using."
"Believe me, I don't want him arrested any more than you do. I just wish that I had gotten their numbers now," he added, annoyed at himself for not thinking of that. His frown faded for a moment. "I guess there's nothing we can do about it for now. I spoke with the medical examiner today and Oswald died around ten months ago. They haven't been able to determine the exact cause of death, but there are signs of poison."
"Then, someone probably did kill him."
"It seems that way."
The inmate sighed, not entirely sure how he felt about this. The remainder of the session was spent discussing methods of anger and stress management. When it ended, Dagur returned to his cell until it was time to be let out.
"All right, everyone!" a voice called. "There's a new prison boss in town and he's the baddest, the maddest, the cunning…est, he's–"
Dagur let out a low groan. "Tuffnut."
