The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(26)

“When he failed to check in at the hospital at oh-nine-ten, Potter went into lockdown, we were notified, and an emergency bed book count was done.”

“Bed book?” Vail asked.

Ramos answered. “It’s a book maintained by the cell house correctional officer that contains a quarters card for each inmate. The quarters cards contain a mug shot of each inmate, his cell assignment and job assignment. This helps confirm that the inmate assigned to that cell is actually the inmate standing in front of you. If one or more inmate’s not where he’s supposed to be, it helps the officer quickly identify who’s missing.”

“Like I was saying,” Hurdle continued. “Potter’s off-duty staff was called in and interior and exterior searches of the prison facility were conducted. All buildings. All closets, rooms. The kitchen. Everything. Vehicles were accounted for. Once they confirmed Marcks was the only escapee, Potter staff was assigned to their escape posting in the immediate area inside the city and county limits around the prison. State troopers were dispatched to expand the search and on Route 48 they found the transport vehicle on the west side of the road, just across the border in Virginia, near Strasburg. It crashed and might’ve been moved further into a nearby stand of trees.”

“The transport team consisted of two correctional officers,” Tarkoff said. “Correct?”

“Yes,” Hurdle said. “Driver was shot through the van wall, probably with the other officer’s service pistol. Sanders, the guard who was in the back with Marcks, was stabbed through the eye with what was likely a scalpel. Nurse’s throat was slit, no doubt with that same scalpel. Don’t know who was killed first.”

“What the hell was a scalpel doing on that truck?” Vail asked.

“Good question. Possible answer is that the nurse was a collaborator and gave it to him, assuming he’d use it on the guard, not on her. So we’ve got reason to question just how badly his arm was really injured.” Hurdle tapped on his screen. “Name was Susan Olifante. If she was part of the plot, we’ll have to reconstruct it. We can’t sit her down. Obviously. Forensics is going through the van, the prison, the medical facility at Potter. Anything turns up, we’ll know ASAP.”

“Big picture,” Ramos said, “is that if you escape from a max-security prison, you’ve gotta have help on the inside. Day in, day out, it’s all routine, scheduled stuff. They’ve got it down to a science, a proven science that’s designed to prevent escape. It’d be very difficult to get out of a facility without assistance—even an old one like Potter. We’ll find out who it was, whether it’s the nurse or someone else. Once we’re clear on the process of how he escaped, it’s just a matter of working backward: how did he have access to that location? Who had access to that location at this time? These three people? Bang.”

“Rambo, you’ve worked with Prisons,” Hurdle said, referring to the Bureau of Prisons. “Get on this. Let’s look at everybody who’s had contact with Marcks inside the facility. Medical staff, including that nurse—but don’t stop there. We don’t wanna miss anything—or anyone.”

“The COs, too,” Walters said. “See if any have a spotty record.”

“Not just the bad officers,” Ramos said. “We need to look at all of them or we could miss something in front of our faces. Even the good ones can get roped in.”

“How can you ‘rope in’ a good cop?” Walters said. “Doesn’t make any sense.”

Hurdle’s face stiffened. “I’ll tell you how. I’ve seen it happen firsthand.” He dropped his chin and his gaze bore into Walters. “Let’s say you’re a legit officer doing your job the right way. You steer clear of all the pitfalls that come with the post. But you talk with your coworkers, right? ’Cause we all do. Stuff happens at home, in your personal life, and you talk about it at work. You get married. You have a baby. So take that example. You come back to work the next day and you’re beaming. Why? Because your wife just had your first baby, Karina—a baby girl, six pounds eight ounces, and she’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. So you show some pictures you got on your phone and others that you posted to Facebook. And you’re ecstatic, you’re so f*cking happy. Everyone pats you on the back, tells you how gorgeous she is. But you don’t know that one of the guys on your block is spilling your dirt.

“So next day, you’re on the block doing your rounds, an inmate says when you walk by, “So how’s Karina doing, dawg? Yeah, you want Karina to stay healthy? How about you get me a pack of Marlboros. Or I’ll have some homies come over and take care of your wife and daughter.”

Walters swallowed.

“That shit goes on all the time,” Ramos said. “No one talks about it, but that’s real life. Inmates as a group are very manipulative and they’re always probing for weakness. Always trying to see what they can get from you. They watch your body language, your face. If they can find that weakness, that button to push, they’re gonna use it on you. They teach each other how to do this shit. Because it’s proven. It works. Because correctional officers are people working in a very dangerous environment. And not all of them are the sharpest tools in the shed. It’s the easiest federal law enforcement career to get into, so who’s it going to attract?”