“I know this is sometimes a hard concept for you, Karen, but when I ask a question, my voice rises at the end. When I give you an order, it goes down in pitch. In case you’re not totally sure, my voice is going down now. Way down. You are going to be assigned to the west coast region. So when we get a case that’s somewhere out west, it’s yours-”
“Look, sir,” Vail said. “I really can’t deal with this now.”
“I’ll let you get back to work. You can go through all this with Frank when you get home.”
“Del Monaco? Why should I talk with him?”
“He’s your new partner.”
Vail laughed. “Good one, sir.”
“It could be worse.”
Vail stood up straight. “How on earth could it possibly be worse?”
“Give me some time. I’ll work on it.”
“Is this really the way you want to treat the woman who’s dating your son?”
“I did not hear that.”
“I said, is this-”
“Karen,” Gifford said. “Get back to work. I just wanted to give you a heads-up so you can warm up to it. I was hoping to head off a confrontation.”
“Don’t you know better than to expect things like that of me?”
“Make nice with the agents in the ’Frisco field office while you’re out there. You’ll be making more trips out that way in the future.”
“San Francisco. They hate ’Frisco.”
“See?” Gifford said. “You’re already learning the lingo. This is going to work out great.”
“Yeah, well, you should’ve given me that heads-up a little sooner.”
There was a moment’s hesitation before Gifford said, “You’ve already managed to piss off-”
“Not my fault. The guy they’ve assigned to the case is… Well, we’ve got a history.”
“My voice is going down here, Karen. This will not affect our realignment. You’re just going to have to learn how to play well with others. And if you’ve already shit in your bed, well, it’s up to you to clean it up.”
“Great image. Thanks, Dad. Hey, who knows? One day I may say that and it won’t be laced with sarcasm.”
“God forbid,” Gifford said. “Now get back to work.”
Vail pressed END. “Shit.”
Dixon turned away from the body. “You’re lucky this isn’t our cuss-free week.”
Vail sighed heavily. “Your what?”
“California legislature can’t pass a budget to save their lives, but they can pass a decree declaring that one week a year everyone should stop cursing.”
Vail eyed her suspiciously. “You’re shitting me.”
“Just an observation here, but I think you’d have some difficulty with that.”
“Damn right I would.”
“Goddamn politicians,” Dixon said. “Hell with all of ’em.”
They both laughed.
Vail took a deep, cleansing breath. “Thanks, Roxx. I needed that.”
Dixon gestured at Vail’s phone. “Bad news?”
“I’ll deal with it. Right now we need to get our heads around all this.”
Burden hung up from his call. “They’re emailing us what they’ve got so far. It’s not complete-they’ve got a list of inmates, still working on the correctional officers.”
“Something you should all know,” Carondolet said. “Cell door’s locked, right? And I told you the only way to get it open is by getting access to that closet. But what I didn’t tell you is that the locking mechanism is a complicated gear and clutch job. I remember having a tough time learning it when I worked here.”
Vail turned back to the victim. “So you’re saying the offender has to know what he’s doing. An insider?”
“I’m just saying. It might mean something.”
“Actually,” Agent Yeung said, “it’s up on YouTube. Someone filmed a park ranger explaining how it works. My brother gave me the link after visiting from New York.”
Burden sighed. “Is anything about this case easy?”
New York. Vail looked around; Hartman had still not returned. Goddamn him. She turned to Yeung. “I really need to ask Mike an important question. Any idea where he went?”
“I’ll give him a shout.” Yeung lifted his BlackBerry and dialed. A moment later, he said, “Went straight to voicemail. Coverage on the island’s spotty at best.”
Vail clenched her jaw. Talk about delayed gratification. This is really pushing the limit. “I’m gonna go find him.” She walked out the way she came in and realized she did not know where she was, or where to begin looking. It was dark and the lighting was insufficient, at best. She thought of asking Carondolet to take her around, but she didn’t want him there when she questioned Hartman. She headed back into the cellhouse and approached the agent who was manning the entrance. “You got a map or something I can use?”
“Just a tourist brochure I picked up on the dock when we got here.” He reached inside his sport coat and handed it over.
Vail thanked him, and then walked back outside. Ahead, the lighthouse was whipping its beacon around at a regular interval. Off in the distance, straight ahead and cutting the fog, was the Bay Bridge, lit up and stretching from the extreme left, across an island, then traversing the ocean to the soupy murkiness of the city on the right.
A gull dove and pecked her hard on the head. “Damn bird.” She brought a hand to the spot to check for blood, but found none.
The temperature had dropped and the wind was slapping rudely against the map she had unfurled. She took a moment to study the diagram of the buildings, then moved ahead a few paces onto a patch of grass and peered into the dark areas around her. To her left stood the burned-out remains of a building: the warden’s house. She started in that direction, but her BlackBerry buzzed. A text from Dixon:
Get back here now.
Vail turned and trotted into the cellhouse, then back down Broadway. “What’s going on?”
“Got an ID on the vic,” Burden said. “And you’re not gonna believe it.”
“Why should this be any different from the rest of the case?” Vail said. “Who is it?”
“That, Karen, is John William Anglin.”
62
November 9, 1962
Alcatraz
Walton MacNally and Reese Shoemacher had coordinated their plans for escape during each weekend on the yard. Shoemacher had nearly cut through the interior bars on a rear kitchen window, along the south side of the basement. Once through those, the window rotated inward, exposing a second set of flat, and softer, bars. He had cut through a substantial portion of these as well, leaving just enough to withstand the periodic “bar knocking” procedure the guards implemented throughout the cellhouse to ensure inmates were not doing what Shoemacher had done.