The prison guard in front of them unlocked the door to a visiting room. He allowed the two FBI agents to enter then locked it behind them.
A table, screwed to the floor, stood in the middle of the room. There were three chairs. A window of toughened glass overlooked a bare exercise yard.
The heavy metal door on the opposite side of the room led through to the innards of the prison. It was locked.
High in one corner of the room, out of reach but protected by a wire-mesh cage, was a security camera.
Kovaks and Sue sat down. They said nothing, looked expectantly at the door, waited.
It was a short wait. A key turned in the lock. Bolts were drawn back. The door, well-oiled, opened silently.
A prison warder appeared, followed by an inmate and another warder. The warders withdrew to the back of the room where they leaned against the wall, chatting quietly to each other. The inmate took the third chair.
Kovaks considered the man carefully. He was white, in his early thirties, and big — six feet four. But he wasn’t fat. Through the ill-fitting prison garb Kovaks could see he was keeping himself in shape. The bulges were all muscle. His biceps were enormous and the veins stood out on them like strands of steel rope.
Kovaks said, ‘Remember me, Whisper?’
The big man nodded. ‘Never forget a face,’ he said. The sound of his voice, as his name suggested, was a hoarse, rasping whisper, like a knife-blade scraping stone. Kovaks knew it was the result of receiving a blow to the throat in a street fight as a teenager. The damage to his voice box made him seem all the more sinister.
Kovaks also knew that the boy who’d hit him all those years ago had taken a knife through the heart.
Kovaks pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Whisper took them without a word of thanks. He lit one — a Marlboro — inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly.
Kovaks retrieved the lighter.
‘ You can keep the cigarettes.’
Whisper nodded slight acknowledgement. ‘So what the fuck d’you want, Agent Kovaks?’
‘ I’d like your help.’ Kovaks knew there was no point in being coy.
‘ I’ve been to see the Special Agent in charge of the Miami field office and spoken to the Deputy Director about you this morning.’
‘ Lucky you,’ rasped Whisper.
‘ If you cooperate with us today to my satisfaction he’ll make representations at your parole board to get the maximum reduction in your sentence.’
‘ Which means that, whatever happens, I’ll still be in here for another five years.’
‘ That’s true,’ Kovaks said. ‘But on the other hand, you could be in here for another twelve.’
Whisper blinked. ‘I won’t help you.’
‘ You don’t know what we want.’
‘ I won’t help you,’ he reaffirmed. ‘I don’t help the law, particularly Feds.’
‘ Just like Corelli ain’t helpin’ you?’
‘ I don’t know what you mean, bud.’
‘ Look, Whisper, we know you were working for him, taking all the risks for him, running the gauntlet with us and the DEA every time you came in with a plane-load of dope. And when you got caught he dropped you like a hot potato. Don’t try to deny it now. We know you worked for him, Whisper, we know.’
‘ You don’t know nothing.’ Whisper’s voice grated with a sneer.
‘ We know…’ Kovaks’ voice trailed off into thin air, leaving the words hanging there. ‘And what’s he done to help you, Whisper?’
‘ I don’t know what or who you’re talking about, asshole.’ Whisper took a deep drag of his cigarette, tossed it onto the floor and ground it out. ‘End of discussion.’
He placed two hands on the table, pushed himself up. He towered briefly over the seated Kovaks. ‘Bye bye, Agent Asshole,’ he hissed. He turned and walked to the door.
Kovaks hadn’t expected such an abrupt end to the proceedings. Something had to be done.
‘ Maybe he can’t do much to help you in here,’ he said to Whisper’s retreating back, ‘but he could at least help Laura out there, couldn’t he? Laura and your daughter Cassie.’ Kovaks was desperate. He was losing here and something had to be done to save the situation.
Whisper stopped in his tracks. He revolved slowly. His expression struck fear into Kovaks’ heart.
‘ Yeah, that’s right,’ Kovaks pushed on, seeing he’d struck a chord. ‘He’s done nothing for her — other than exploit her. She was a real good-looker, your Laura. And she was clean, even though you were pushin’ those drugs. Not now, baby, not fuckin’ now!’
‘ What are you saying?’
‘ She’s one of Corelli’s hookers. Working downtown Miami in a sleazy club where the customer can get a five-minute blow job for fifty dollars. I’ve heard she does a hundred a night. Washes her mouth out between each one with antiseptic.’
‘ Liar,’ Whisper said.
‘ Now she’s a smack-head. A crack addict. With no money. Living in a shitty one-bedroom apartment over a grocery store with no amenities and your precious daughter on the at-risk register. The state is seriously considering taking her off Laura. That’s how much Corelli’s looked after your interests. He used you, now he’s using her. Why do you think she never visits you? He won’t fuckin’ let her, Whisper, ‘cos then you’ll know.’
Kovaks had pushed hard and far and he knew it. Too far, too quickly. He had heard how deadly Whisper could be; now he found out at first hand.
Whisper moved so fast he took everyone by surprise. Kovaks had walked round the table as he’d talked and there was perhaps five feet of open space and nothing else between the two men. A mistake.
Whisper covered the gap in a movement so flowing and precise that the next thing Kovaks knew he was on his back. Whisper’s huge paw-like hands were around his throat, squeezing, and Kovaks’ eyes were bulging in their sockets.
‘ Fuckin’ liar,’ Whisper said. ‘Fuckin’ liar, fuckin’ liar…’
His breath washed into Kovaks’ nostrils. He began to smash the back of Kovaks’ head repeatedly on the hard tiled floor.
Kovaks hit Whisper as hard as he could with a fist. It connected with the left side of his head by his ear and had no effect on the big man other than to encourage him to tighten his grip.
The prison warders moved in to assist. They tried to prise Whisper off, but he shrugged them away as easily as a man removing his coat.
Kovaks’ vision began to distort. He felt faint. He knew he was going to die here. Strangled, head smashed to pieces in a fuckin’ prison. His ears throbbed. Vaguely he heard an alarm sounding somewhere — a whoop-whoop noise. There were shouts. Screams. Footsteps running. He began to lose consciousness.
Then Whisper’s head was yanked violently back.
He gave a yelp of surprise.
Kovaks’ swimming vision took in the huge form of Sue hovering above him.
A big fist slammed down like a sledgehammer into Whisper’s upturned face. His nose squelched and burst like a tomato. The fist smashed down again. Whisper released his grip on Kovaks’ throat. His hands went up to protect his face.
The door flew open and two more warders ran into the room, batons drawn.
Now, four against one, even Whisper was defeated. He was bundled off his victim in a shower of blows, punches and kicks.
‘ You pack a good punch,’ Kovaks croaked with admiration to Sue.
‘ I had to do something,’ she said modestly, ‘otherwise he’d’ve killed you. Those guards were useless.’
‘ I owe you one.’
‘ My pleasure,’ she said meekly. She looked at the swollen knuckles of her right hand. ‘I broke his nose, y’know.’
‘ You did good,’ Kovaks agreed.
They were sitting in a cubicle at the Institute’s hospital, a curtain drawn across for the sake of privacy. Kovaks had been treated and his throat had a bandage wrapped around it. No permanent damage had been done, according to the doctor. His voice was almost gone but in a few days, he was assured, everything would be fine again. Meanwhile he’d been advised not to speak too much and eat only soup and scrambled eggs.