JUSTICE REBORN (A Charlie Taylor Novel Book 1) (19 page)

“Mario, the Sector team will be up to full
complement by late afternoon; then they’ll start executing the prisoners on
death row. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll uncover a few innocent men who will be
able to walk out the front door.”

“Warden, once they start clearing death
row, I’m not sure it’ll be safe for you to continue wandering, at any time of
day or night.” Mario, a guard at Fort Green prison for 12 years and the man in
charge of the exercise yard, worried about Uncle Willie.

 “The prisoners know about White Rock and
the results of the executions, not many walked.  Everyone knows legal appeals
no longer exist. It all comes down to an S3 interrogation to prove innocence or
guilt. Even the guys not on Death Row know that eventually their turn will come
for an examination of some type.”

The Warden listened to Mario and didn’t
stop him even though this was not news to him. He wanted to hear grassroots
concerns. The rapid introduction of the new system and Amendment 33-2
fertilized the rumor mill. Where they on the edge of a prison riot?  He waited,
knowing Mario would eventually tell him any unpleasant news.

“Warden even the guards are worried. No one
has defined our new roles. Where will we fit? Are we going to have jobs? And if
so, where and what? Or, are we going to be deemed unsatisfactory for the new
system. Not having the proper education, too indoctrinated in the old approach
to be of any value. If we’re not careful, the guards could strike or develop
some type of work protest, work to rule, or whatever, it would be ugly.”

“Mario, you can pass the word. I guarantee
it won’t happen. There’ll be a place for everyone. My retirement doesn’t start
until you’re all looked after.” The Warden meant what he said, but he knew his
promise would depend on his immediate supervisor, Jake, the son of a bitch.

Today, at 67 years of age, Willie reflected
most of his years: almost handsome, short and round, with a pug nose, the
beginning of jowls, a full head of curly white hair. The wrong crowd dominated
his early life; the full spectrum of trouble was on their agenda: fast cars,
alcohol, drugs, early school dropout and a few petty thefts.  As the group
aged, they became bolder, the result being more high-risk crimes. At this
point, Willie accepted the time had arrived for him to move away and change
direction.

He returned to finish high school, got a
part time job as a prison guard because it allowed him to attend afternoon
classes at a local university. The longer he worked in the prison system, the
more comfortable he became, and he began a slow, methodical progression up the
ladder. The prison population recognized someone with empathy, not cruel or
vindictive. The Warden believed everyone could be rehabilitated and never
changed his approach, regardless of the number of times he had been
disappointed, an unapologetic straight shooter, hence his nickname: Uncle
Willie.

Justice Reborn and all the preceding
political debates disgusted him; he stopped reading about the evolution of the
legislation, of the miracle drugs, the technology of no interest. He’d met the
criteria and was legally able to retire before the full impact of the reform
hit his prison. However, Jake insisted that he stay on until the first phase
(Death Row) was completed.

Willie knew enough about Jake and took the
demand seriously; Jake played for keeps. Although Willie’s lack of a degree had
hindered his career potential, he was recognized as one of the most competent
administrators in the system. The Sector needed Willie’s kind of experience to
deal with the convict population as the prison decommissioning evolved. Some
people complained the evolution was equivalent to jumping off a cliff without
knowing if the water at the bottom was deep enough. Willie became the best hope
to deal with any unknowns which might surface in the prison population.

Although only a few weeks separate him from
full retirement, he refused to be a stationary object tied to his desk. The
solitary wandering relieved the tension.  His life had been a long journey and
struggle, but he had enjoyed his tenure, in particular, his climb from guard
trainee to the top of the heap. He knew the inmates and his staff referred to
him as ‘Uncle Willie,’ and he was perceived as soft or too liberal and a push
over for a sob story.

These halls triggered memories and they
flowed through his mind as he wandered from one location to another. The guards
monitored his wandering but didn’t try to engage him; their sole task: opening
the security gates as he wandered, occasionally stopping to talk to a long-term
prisoner or a senior guard.

 He would have to be present when they
cleared Fort Green death row; the thought of so many executions and bodies
flowing out of this prison each day revolted him. But, Jake warned him to keep
out of any debates and to allow this to happen without incident or he would
find out how serious the politicians viewed this process. Jacob hinted
bureaucratic errors could delay pension checks for months.

Today was not an aimless wander; he had a
particular destination: to talk to Ronald Bowen. A random draw had Ron as the
last prisoner to be assessed with an S3 interrogation. The Warden believed Ron
was innocent, a conclusion reinforced by numerous chats with him over the
years.

Since being in prison, Ron dried up,
upgraded his high school marks and completed three years of University, making
full use of the Internet facilities provided. His new maturity and confidence
were now evident; his native intelligence, which got derailed years ago,
flourished on death row. The Warden stopped at his cell.

“Good morning Ron, I see your interrogation
position is set, and you’ve named your Watcher.”

“Good morning Warden. Yes, I’m trying to
get ready but there’s not much I can do. I have neither family nor any
possessions so that part is easy.”

“I understand you’ve named a homicide detective
as your only Watcher. It’s not my place to advise you about this policeman,
Charlie Taylor. But you should be aware he has a reputation for being a
hard-nosed cop. I doubt his primary objective will be to help you, and I have
concerns about this choice.”

“I don’t know how anyone can help with this
S3 interrogation. I requested Detective Taylor because he conducted the initial
investigation of the liquor store killing. The detective who took over the case
has passed away. Detective Taylor knows all aspects of the shooting, knows the
man whose deathbed confession convicted me and, most important, he knows the
details of my alibi. He’s most knowledgeable.”

The Warden continued to step over the line;
no doubt Ron was his favorite. “I understand your rationale, but I think you
should search for someone else. You know Forensics can allow scenes to play as
long as they wish. The scanning technician does not reposition the memory probe
until the Watchers signals. With Amendment 33-2, any past crime has to be assessed.
A detective will force any suspicious scenes to be played out to ensure you are
innocent. There must be someone else.”

“Believe me, I’ve reviewed this many times,
and I think Charlie Taylor is my best bet; I don’t have many options.”

“OK Ron, it’s your decision. The Warden at
White Rock Prison told me the recent implementation of Amendment 33-2 has made
the Historians more aggressive. The mood seems to be any scene, which can
implicate you in a major crime, is sufficient to allow the execution to take
place.

Their attitude: on the table is a convicted
killer and when a scene appears involving a violent crime, this is often enough
justification. They’re in a hurry and don’t need much to be convinced an
execution is justified. If it’s been a hectic day and they are running short of
time, a short crime segment from memory may be enough….that is enough to
trigger a final verdict. You should be aware of the fact: this Forensic team
has an enormous workload.”

They continued the discussion, Ron not
receptive, and the Warden, over the line in a useless argument, surrendered and
turned away to continue his wandering.

Ron’s doubts had been amplified. He felt
confident with Father Ed but different with Charlie. Their meetings consisted
of three poignant encounters: once when he was a teenager, next early in the
robbery investigation when Charlie was still in charge of the case, and
yesterday when he came to the prison.

Charlie certainly presented as a hard-nosed
cop. He hadn’t projected an ounce of sympathy. His position: Monk recommended
he serve as Watcher, and he would do it, nothing else, not a word about a
drunken teenager stumbling down a country road.  Surely Charlie knew it was
this first meeting which had to be controlled.

Ron wondered: could he keep the teenage
scenario from surfacing? Doubtful. The S3 interrogation started with a couple
of random probes, no one in control of the locations, certainly not his
neurology. An irritated brain leaked out streams of memory. Since the teenage
killing frequently haunted him, one might guess it would surface quickly.

The questions were: will Charlie recognize
the scene? Will he allow it to play out? Will he get the scanner to move on?
And, even if he does ask the scanner to move on, will this happen soon enough to
stop details of the night from flashing on the Historian’s monitor?

He knew much of what the Warden said was
right. The rampant rumors confirmed everything the Warden said. These Forensic
teams were not sympathetic to convicts.

 His interrogation position, as the last
man, didn’t appear to be an advantage. It would be late in the day on a Friday
afternoon, and staff would be anxious to get out, to head for home or to the
bar.  A violent teenage scenario dragged from his memory would be sufficient
justification. Had he been too naïve in requesting Charlie? He trusted his life
to a hard-nosed cop.

Maybe he should call Father Ed.

We’re in one of the three off-lease areas
the city provides for dog lovers.

I occasionally come to the park with my
brother, Sam, and his dog. Sometimes I just run the park with Herbie. The
heavily treed area hugs the river for a few miles. Since it is mid-week, there
are not many people at the park, but there is still a multitude of different
dogs, all running loose in doggie heaven. Herbie, a big dog, a lab-shepherd
mix, continues to dance around us. Sam is always pushing.

“Catch a good woman on the weekend? Emma?
Or for that matter any woman?”

 He knows damn well that I haven’t
bothered, but he feels obligated to keep pressuring me. I ignore him and throw
another stick for Herbie.

“Charlie I don’t know how you survive
without any female companions. Not true. I do. You work from early am until as
late as possible; then you play basketball twice a week. And to top it off get
absolutely hammered two or three times a week. Did I leave anything out?”

“Give it a rest for Christ’s sake. I have
taken Red off my radar screen, but I think I’m turning a corner……… I have booze
under control.”

“Some corner. I hear you and Monk are up to
something.”

“That bloody Monk he is supposed to keep
this confidential and already he’s out spreading the word……son of a bitch.” 
I’m really upset and my voice and body language reflect my attitude. Herbie immediately
moves between Sam and me; the damn dog is smarter than Monk.

“Calm down. The three of us go away back,
and Monk knows I’d never betray you.  After some further thought, he was
getting worried and needed to talk, and I don’t blame him. I can’t believe what
I heard. You’re going to beat an S3 interrogation for Ronald Bowen, a convicted
murder?”

I didn’t reply; I keep throwing stones and
small branches. Sam pushes.  “Well let’s hear it. You’ve never participated in
an S3 event, and you’re going to be a Watcher for a murder and get him off the
hook. You don’t even know the guy. Have I missed something? Is this as crazy as
it sounds? Tell me I am wrong!”

I’m trying to cool down. I’m not really
angry at Monk. More than anything, once I make up my mind I don’t want to go
over the ground again and again and try to convince someone else it is the
right move.

“You want in? OK, let me set the table for
you: first, I think Ronald got one of the worst deals of the decade, but under
our current legislation there’ll not be a new trail, it’s straight to an S3
brain scan. And, I will not interfere with the playback which will show the
robbery and killing where he was found guilty.  But there is another incident
where I may be able to assist.  Do you remember when I was in Grade 12 and used
to ride in Mark’s police cruiser on some slow weekdays?”

  Sam nods. “Sure Mom was furious with Mark
for setting that up and couldn’t sleep until you were safe and back in your
bed.”

“You probably also remember the night the
Parson’s girl was raped and murdered…..including the drunken assholes that Mark
chased until they crashed.”

“I remember. They ran into the concrete
abutment and ended up greasing the highway; that was the last time Mom let you
ride the cruiser.”

“Before we took chase, Mark stopped a
rather drunk and weepy young man staggering around on his way home. Mark got
out of the cruiser and talked to him. I remained in the car and watched the
action. The young man Mark sent home…. Ronald Bowen……you see I met him a long
time ago.”

 “I gather you’re saying Ron and the
drunken duo are connected. This doesn’t mean you owe him a damn thing. The risk
is enormous.”

  “I’ll not try and beat S3 on the liquor
store murder. I want to direct it away from that one night and get the focus on
the robbery-murder. You know with Amendment 33-2 any felon on death row can be
executed for a prior capital offense, even if it’s not part of his original
sentence. If this teenage drunken episode surfaces from Ron’s memory, we don’t
know how the event will play out. As fragments get displayed, it might be
enough for the Legal team to declare an Amendment 33-2 death sentence.

I’ll try and ensure these fragments don’t
get prime air time. All I have to do is recognize our old neighborhood, the
park, anything which will allow me to signal that the probe should jump forward
to a more recent time frame.”

“This means Ron and the Monk have convinced
you he was not responsible for the teenage rape and murder?’

“I can’t be 110% sure but I’m very
confident. I think in the worst case scenario he was a bored teenager who made
a wrong decision and hung out with a couple of assholes. It seems too high a
price to pay for one poor decision, and I think Ron has paid for it most of his
life.”

Sam throws another stick for Herbie and
smiles at me. “Brother I understand and agree with the two of you but how in
the hell are you going to pull this off?’

“There a lot of unknowns about the
procedure, but I have been spending time with the John Wojecki, the Historian,
who will be part of the Watchers’ team at Fort Green. He has been telling me
what to expect and the details of the process. Of course, he doesn’t know why I
am asking the questions.

 Monk and I have reviewed all the details
of that night and the days leading up to the drunk; Monk gets the information
from Ron and then he in turn briefs me.  I’m trying to develop a frame by frame
sequence of the night, really of the entire week. My intent is to recognize the
event as soon as possible and get the Scanner to jump ahead to another point in
time.

A couple of concerns: first, with no
control any frame might surface, possibly the first scene we may see is Ron
waking up and his two buddies are still arguing over the dead girl. If this
happens with all of them in a frame, I can’t request a jump ahead. The
Historian’s presence means it’s not likely I will be able to switch to a future
event.

Second, Ron was passed out during the rape
and killing of the girl but I had a troubling thought. He wasn’t conscious when
the brothers started killing the girl. 

But the other day I was channel surfing and
happened to catch a specialist of some type; he was going on about how the
unconscious mind absorbs and possess knowledge that escapes the conscious mind.
….events are absorbed subliminally. Just suppose, in some way, components of
Ron’s senses were able to capture the rape, and he absorbed and retained full
memory of the event. If that happened, will we see a girl getting raped and
beaten? I know this thinking is rather far out but so is the entire S3
interrogation. I’ll try and be prepared for all combinations, but a scene with
a dead body will have to play to completion.

Come on Sam help me out with this black
magic. Events absorbed subliminally….below the threshold of the conscious mind.
What can you add? Is this all bullshit? What might get captured at a level we
are not aware of and are normally not able to access? Should I worry?”

 “I don’t know what to tell you. You’re
getting into an area where people question the impact of the unconscious mind
on our instincts and challenge the concept of free will and rational behavior.
I don’t see it applying to your situation. But I’ll search some of the recent
research papers; my guess: there isn’t anything which will provide the answers
you want. I doubt any of the research has had time to relate this work to an S3
memory scan.”

“OK  ...it doesn’t matter; I’m just
venting. I’m committed in any case. How the hell could I back away at this
time?”

We’re at the car and Sam is getting Herbie
into the back seat.  “Charlie, I get nervous just thinking about this project
of yours. You know they record everything that surfaces and the Forensic Team
also assess each frame before they move the probe. If any questions get raised
in future, they can review the material at any time, as long as the technician
decided to retain that memory stream.

And some news, which it appears, has not
reached you: a press release early this morning named Emma Collins as the
senior technician supervising at Fort Green. This means the woman of your life,
Emma will be on top of you and ready to jump on anything unusual. So to quote a
famous detective I know……………Jesus H. Christ.”