The White Angel Murder

38

Chief Harlow was not used to waiting. He sat now on a metal bench at the Pelican Bay State Prison and checked his watch. They had kept him waiting over an hour and a half. It was punishment, he knew, from the warden. The chief had scheduled a visit by his own calendar rather than the prison’s and two extra guards had to be pulled away and stuck in the visiting corridor.

He strove that, no matter what, he would always be honest with himself. It was difficult enough to be honest with others but to look at oneself without judgment and without filtering was nearly impossible. It was something you had to work on for years and do constantly, from sun up to sun down. He felt he had a grasp of himself now. Of what he felt and why he felt it. It helped calm him in difficult situations.

But for some reason he was fuming. He couldn’t think about anything but running up to the warden’s office and chewing him out. But he knew he had no authority here. At best, the warden would yell back. At worst, he would have him arrested and escorted off the property or stuck in a cell for a few hours. Wardens and judges were the last forms of tyranny left in America.

The door opened and a guard led Noah Sherman in. He placed him down on the metal stool in front of Harlow and he picked up the phone as Harlow did the same.

“I heard they got you as temporary chief now.”

“Position turned permanent.”

“Oh yeah? What happened to Rufino Ortiz? I thought he was next in line.”

“He retired based on some problems he was having.”

“Problems?” Sherman said with a chuckle. “Jesus, you are a politician. I heard he got busted with coke. I knew Rufino. Really well. Never once saw him with coke in all the years I knew him.”

“Yeah, well I guess we don’t really know people.”

“No, guess not. So first Jon and now you. You guys miss me down there or something?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

“And what’s that?”

“Tami Jacobs. Twenty-three, blond, found in her-”

“I remember the case. What about it?”

“I need your help on it.”

“You took me off that case and gave it to a couple of ass-kissers that just came up from the Gang Unit.”

“I know, I remember. But you got farther than anyone.”

“Then why’d you take me off?”

“I have my reasons.”

He was quiet a moment and then said, “You know what, Mike? I never trusted you. From the first fucking second I saw you I thought you were a snake that would kill his own mother if it made him a few bucks.”

“Fuck you, Noah. Don’t forget which one of us is on this side of the glass.”

“Yeah, I know. In a perfect world you’d be back here with me.”

“In a perfect world Jon’s bullet would have been a few more inches to the right and you’d be in a grave instead of a cell.” He leaned forward on his elbows. “And let me ask you something: why the fuck would you try and kill your partner? He would’ve worked something out with you.”

“He would have arrested me and testified against me at my trial. There’s no gray area for him. Now cut the shit. What do you want?”

“I want that case solved. As quickly as possible. You think you can handle it?”

Sherman’s eyes lit up and a smile came over his lips. He leaned back and spread his legs, allowing himself to slouch comfortably. “What makes you think I haven’t already?”

“You would’ve told me.”

“Would I? You fucked me and gave the biggest case of my career to two dumbasses who’d never worked a homicide. You really think I’d hand over everything I had to them?”

“No,” Harlow admitted, “you wouldn’t.”

“You know what’s interesting about you, Mike? Do you know why you just said that?”

Harlow bit the inside of his cheek. “Because I wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, I know you wouldn’t, man. I know it and it creeps you the fuck out that me and you think the same. You wanna hear something crazy? Everybody in here thinks like that. It’s a type of mentality. I don’t even know where it comes from. Parents maybe. Maybe they’re just born with it though. Like the way you think is just part of your package with your guts and brains.”

“I didn’t come here for a philosophy lesson. You gonna help me or not?”

“Can’t. Not from in here.”

“You wouldn’t be in there. You help me, you’ll be out of custody. You’ll have to wear chains and a location ankle monitor at all times, and you’ll have a federal marshal with you twenty-four seven, but you’ll be allowed to be outside the prison.”

“And?”

“That’s not enough for you?”

“You knew it wouldn’t be. What else did you get?”

“Your sentence is life without parole. You help me get who did this, it becomes life with parole.”

“How?”

“Your attorney’s gonna file a Post Conviction Remedies Act petition and the Court of Appeals is going to grant it. One of the justices, not in public of course, but one of the justices has already agreed.”

“Don’t matter. Just cause I got the possibility don’t mean nothing. They’ll never let me out of here. Charles Manson never killed anybody and wasn’t there when his followers did and he’s going to die in prison.”

“That’s all I got, Noah. That’s the extent of my connections. You can help me or not but I can’t give you anything else. And when have you ever heard of a serial killer getting the possibility of parole? It’s a huge deal.”

“I’m not a serial killer. I only got two kills. FBI defines it as three kills. But it don’t mean shit. They won’t let me out.”

“Fine,” Harlow said, standing up, “then I’ll find another way. Have fun with your butt buddies in here.”

“I didn’t say no.”

“Then what?”

“Put it in writing.”

“Are you fucking stupid? We’re talking about an appellate judge making a finding before being presented the case. I can’t put that in writing. No, my friend, we’re just going to have to trust each other on this one.”

“Well, I guess I ain’t got nothing else.”

“Ain’t? Since when did you start talking like a fucking redneck?”

“You are what you’re around.”

“God help us if that’s true. So, you still haven’t given me an answer.”

“Okay. You got yourself a deal.”