Lee pulled on the gloves, picked up a square of sheet metal and slid it onto the break table. He lined it up, stepped back, pulled the lever hard, watched the blade strike down powerfully, bending the metal to a neat, ninety-degree angle.
?Try it again.?
Lee looked at Falon and reached for another sheet. But when he swung it onto the table it slipped, sliding beyond the raised break. Alarm touched him as he reached to retrieve it, darting his hand beyond the break line. He swung away fast when Falon grabbed the lever. The blade fell, catching the tip of Lee?s glove as he jerked his hand out.
Swinging around, he grabbed Falon?s collar, threw him against the break, and rammed Falon?s arm under the blade, grabbing for the lever. Falon fought him, his face drained white, staring at Lee?s hand on the lever. Beyond Falon at the other side of the room, Randolph had his back to them. Lee let Falon lie frozen against theblade until Randolph started to turn, only then did he release Falon. ?I see how this thing works, Falon. And I see how you work. I don?t think,? he said softly, ?that I?ll have trouble with either one.?
The next two days, working with Falon, Lee was mighty careful. He learned some of the other machines under Falon?s supervision, learned them all with a wary respect for the man. He didn?t like having Falon in a superior position, he hadn?t planned on that. As short a time as Falon had been there, he must have sold the foreman a bill of goods?though he did know the equipment. It was the second eveningafter work that Lee got Falon alone between the buildings and goaded him, told him the feds were still working the case, that they?d picked up new information in Rome, had lined up new witnesses. Told Falon he could soon be arraigned for murder. Falon laughed at him, but Lee could see doubt in his eyes. The third evening, Lee went into the dormitory to locate Falon?s cubicle.
The room was a typical military layout, freestanding partitions around the individual bunks, low enough so a guard could look over, high enough to give a man some sense of privacy. Falon was in his cubicle, Lee could see his narrow head and shoulders where he sat on his bunk, his back to Lee, talking with two other inmates. Two sleazy types slouched in the small space, half sitting against the low wall. Lee didn?t pause long, but moved on past, smiling now that he knew where he might corner Falon.
But then before Lee could make a move, Morgan got Falon alone. He told Falon that Natalie Hooper was dating several men, said she?d talked pretty freely about the robbery. Told Falon that, with the feds still working the case, if he opened up to the law now, revealed where the money was hidden, they?d go easier on him, maybe he could go for a plea bargain and minimum time.
Of course Falon laughed at him; and with every passing hour the arrival of the court documents drew nearer, the time when Iverson would see their connection to Falon and move them where they couldn?t get to him at all. Lee was growing edgy when, the fourth day on the job, Morgan joined him in the lunch line tense with excitement.
?He admitted it,? Morgan said softly.
?Keep your voice down,? Lee snapped. ?Wait until we find a table.? He thought Morgan would explode before they got settled. Morgan set down his tray next to Lee?s and scooted his chair close, as bright faced as a kid. ?I got him alone in the shower room, told him a lot of lies, got him so angry he lost it.? Morgan smiled.
?I?ve seen him do that before, his temper flares, he didn?t even hit at me, didn?t try to fight, he just went kind of?glazed. Hissed right in my face, ?Damn right I robbed that bank, damn right I shot that guard. What was I supposed to do, old geezer couldn?t even get his gun out of the holster.? He admitted it, Lee. Admitted the murder, stealing the money, admitted everything.?
?But then,? Morgan said, ?then he laughed at me. He said, ?What are you going to do about it? You?re the one got convicted.??
?He didn?t tell you where the money?s hidden,? Lee said quietly.
?No, he said he?d never admit anything in court. But it?s .†.†.?
?It?s what?? Lee said tiredly.
?It has to be proof. Hetold me. He??
?But youhave no proof. It doesn?t matter what he tells either of us if we can?t come up with the money or the gun. That?s the proof. Nothing?s any good until we have solid evidence.?
?I did the best I could,? Morgan said glumly. ?I told him if the law could retrieve the money, if he told them where it is, he?d get a lighter sentence.?
?You know that?s a lot of bull and so does he. The charge for murder, they?re not going to plea-bargain that. What did he say then??
?He said, ?You?re the one doing time. I?ll be out in a few days.?? Morgan laid down his fork. ?I won?t let that happen, Lee. I have to make him talk. I tried naming places around Rome where he might have hidden the money, thought maybe he?d give himself away but he didn?t. He?s too good a liar,? Morgan said glumly.
LEE?S HALF-DAYS IN the metal shop grew agonizingly long; he was always tense and on guard. Trying to do his job while protecting himself from Falon, he was more bushed after each succeeding shift. He remembered wryly Dr. Floyd?s advice to pace himself, to pick jobs that didn?t stress him. And then suddenly Falon was taken off the job, he wasn?t there when Lee checked in for work.
The foreman said he was being transferred, that Falon would be out of there in a couple of days, and Lee knew the court transcripts had come through. They were moving Falon out fast, before there was trouble. He wondered if they would move Morgan, too.
He finished his shift and then quit his job, forcing his cough, telling the foreman his emphysema was worse, that his chest hurt and he needed to see the doc. When he went on into the medical office he did have a ragged cough and did feel pale and cold, it wasn?t hard to feign exhaustion. The examining doctor told him to quit his shift. Lee said he already had. The doc gave him a form with a note on it and sent him to his counselor.
He?d seen John Taylor only once since he and Morgan were checked in. Taylor was a short, tight-knit man, well tanned, who?d seemed fair enough with Lee. He nodded, signed and filed the form, and didn?t suggest that Lee look for another job. It was that afternoon that Lee returned to the metal plant one last time.
The shift changed at four, men were leaving the industry shops. He hoped the metal shop wasn?t locked. Earlier, while at work, he had hidden a piece of thin cable under a stack of metal. When he left, there had been too many men around, he couldn?t retrieve it. Now he found a guard standing inside the door and gave him a sheepish smile. ?I think I left the safety latch off on my machine?I?d like to go back and check it.?
The guard looked wary.?Make it quick. The paint crew?s cleaning up, I?m about to lock the door.?
Lee hurried the length of the plant, past the break. Glancing in the guard?s direction, he reached under the stack of metal sheets, scooped up the coiled cable, and slid it under his shirt. He pretended to check his machine, reaching as if to flip a safety latch, then moved on out of the building, nodding to the guard. He was strung tight, hot to get at Falon before hewas gone. He told himself to slow down, to work out the moves, don?t go off half-cocked. He?d already failed once, earlier in the day when he found Falon alone in the yard and came onto him. Falon had lunged viciously at Lee; he thought Falon had him until three inmates appeared from among the buildings, talking and laughing, and Falon had to back off.
They had little time to make Falon talk before the paperwork arrived from Atlanta. Lee didn?t sleep well that night, and the next day he overheard from a guard that Falon?s transfer to L.A. county jail was being processed in connection with the land-scam trial. Blake was so wild to get at Falon that Lee knew he should have kept his mouth shut, knew this could blow up in their faces?and the next afternoon, it did blow. Blew sky high, shutting down the entire prison, leaving Lee shocked, panicked, unable to do anything to help Morgan.