"Are you 'carrying', detective?" the officer behind glass asked Nina, after she had identified herself.
"Yes," she replied.
As long as Rosebrooke was still a fugitive, she would not be stupid enough to go out unarmed.
"I would ask you, for the safety of both yourself and our staff, to stow your weapon in one of the lockers behind you," he said, with a gesture, "and if you would follow protocol and sign in afterwards."
Nina did as he asked.
"Who are you here to see?" the officer asked her briefly, and to the point, but also somewhat bored.
He saw dozens of detectives enter the prison every day, hoping to coax a confession out of somebody who had been in prison for a long time.
"I am here to see Martin Decker," she replied.
She immediately saw that his interest was piqued.
Martin Decker had only briefly been locked up here, but under very strict security, and that was with reason. He was one of the most dangerous criminals in the country, the second in command and bodyguard of Freddy Rosebrooke, who was currently still wanted for trading illegal substances, tax evasion, intimidation, membership of a criminal organization and conspiracy. The organization of Rosebrooke had been rolled up after a months-length undercover action, in which Nina, among others, had been involved. But the officer did not need to know exactly how far her involvement had gone.
"Martin Decker, you say?" he asked with clear interest. "Our guest of honour?"
She nodded.
"Detective, in that case I have to warn you, Decker has not spoken to anyone during the time he has been here, not even to his fellow inmates, except for some functional conversations. Because he is considered a fugitive and appears to be quite good at escaping, we have put him in a glass cell where no one can have physical contact with him. Don't let his charming looks deceive you though, that man is evil to the core."
She grinned secretly. Here he was, pretending be the expert on Martin Decker, as if she hadn't lived with him for three months. Yes, she had gotten to know Martin well, and the officer was right about a few things. Martin Decker was certainly dangerous; he would indeed escape as soon as he had the chance, and he would not hesitate for a second to break necks and spill blood if that would increase his chances of freedom. Whether he was evil to the core, was something she doubted, and she knew it was because she could no longer look at him objectively.
"Glad you brought it up, officer," she said, "I have here," - and she pulled a warrant from her pocket - "an order to you and your superiors, from both my superiors and the district attorney. Due to Decker being such a special guest, it seems we have to bend the rules a bit."
With a frown, the officer took the paper from her. She could tell from his face that he was not exactly happy to be lectured in his own house, and when he read on, he liked it even less.
"I cannot condone this," he said immediately, as he lowered the paper, "turn off the cameras aimed at his cell? Madness!"
Giving in somewhat, seemed better, than pulling rank. "Actually, I totally agree with you, officer, but I'm afraid both our superiors think otherwise. All cameras should be off so Decker will feel freer and maybe say a little too much. I think it's bullshit too, but you know what those paper-pushers are like, once they have something in their head, there is no way to get it out of it. So, we just do whatever they want, against our own better judgement, and after that we can get back to doing our job."
The officer grunted something unintelligible, gave her the warrant back and handed her a visitor's pass. He pushed a button, there was a click, and a low buzz, clearly indicated that the electronic lock on the heavy door on her right side, had opened.
"Go through that door, follow the corridor until you've passed the pastoral space, then immediately go to the right, and the third door gives access to the high regime department. The door opens when you scan your badge, but when you are inside, you have to use the intercom if you want to get out."
Kindly, Nina thanked him and walked through the door, which opened as soon as she approached it. Under his breath she thought she heard the officer mutter something along the lines of, "I hope you wrote your will," but she ignored it. She was sure she had nothing to fear from Martin Decker, although she couldn't exactly say why.
She had been to this prison before, but never in the heavy regime area. When she got there, it reminded her more of a hospital than a prison. Light colours, few facilities, and a number of offices to her left and right. No bars, but reinforced glass wherever she looked. Every door had both a badge-scanner and a combination lock. However, to her great surprise, the door she was pointed to by the officer had no number combination, only a badge scanner. She held her visitor's badge to the scanner and the heavy door open almost silently.
She entered.
This chamber had a different atmosphere. Gloomier, as if its hue alone was supposed to suppress the very thought of escape. When she looked around she saw that there were three cells, consisting of three concrete walls, and a glass wall. Only one of the cells was lit, artificial but as natural as possible. She could see a flat screen television hanging on one wall, opposite the other wall she saw a bookcase. There was also a table, a chair, and a shower in the corner. Martin Decker sat on a desk chair in the middle of the cell. Gently, he rocked back and forth on it.
A red line had been drawn on the floor with a sign saying, 'Stay behind the red line', but Nina stopped at least six feet in front of it. If Martin was surprised to see her, he didn't show it.
"Linda ...," he said. His voice sounded metallic and she saw several speakers in the walls.
"Oh no," he continued, "not 'Linda'. I don't even know your real name. You were Linda when I met you, Linda when you went home with me.... Linda when we...."
Nina knew what kind of a man he was, yet she felt a brief flash of guilt and shame when she heard the sound of his voice. Maybe she felt a little bitterness as well. If he had not trusted her, a lot of the evidence against Rosebrooke and his organization would never had been obtained. Although Martin Decker had many character flaws, he was loyal to his friends. However, Decker recovered so fast, she doubted whether she had actually heard it. He threw his head back and took a deep breath through the nose, spreading his nostrils.
"I can smell you, Clarice," he said, in a creepy monotonous tone, as if he were Hannibal Lecter from the 'Silence of the Lambs'.
Nina suppressed the laugh that came up in her throat. With even the faintest hint off laughter, he wouldn't take her seriously at all and probably wouldn't say anything anymore. She had no idea how to get it this whole thing to work. Be strict? Start talking about their past? Offering something? She considered each option and immediately rejected them. Being strict would probably make him laugh, their past was the reason his was in here and he knew very well she had nothing serious to offer.
She was silent for so long that he asked her. "Okay, it's not Linda, and I assume it's Clarice either. What's your name? I think you owe me your name, after all. I mean, look at where we are."
'Don't play that game,' Nina told herself.
"You really owe your situation to yourself and your boss. You know we still haven't caught Rosebrooke? He'll let you die here, and drink pina colada's on the Costa Rica beaches, at your expense.
"Then you could have him extradited through San Jose, right? Doesn't seem that difficult to me. Well, this was free advice. Now goodbye, officer of an unknown name."
Decker rose from his chair and the light flashed across his face for a moment. Nina couldn't help but be impressed, even in these circumstances he wouldn't let himself be lured out of his tent. Maybe she should try the full-frontal attack, on the off chance that he would blurt something out.
