Second Chance

Chapter 58

IN THE ANATOMY of the California state prison system, Pelican Bay was the place where the sun don't shine.

The following day, I took Jacobi and “req'd” a police helicopter for the hour's flight up the coast to Crescent City, near the Oregon border. I had been to Pelican Bay twice before, to meet with a snitch on a murder case and attend a parole hearing for someone I had put away. Each time, as I flew over the dense redwood forest surrounding the facility, it left a hole in the pit of my stomach.

If you were a law-enforcement agent - especially a woman - this was the kind of place you didn't want to go.

There's a sign, as they process you through the front gate, warning that if you're taken hostage you're on your own. No negotiations.

I had arranged to meet with the assistant warden, Roland Estes, in the main administrative building. He kept us waiting for a few minutes. When he showed up, Estes was tall and serious, with a hard face and tight blue eyes. He had that clenched-fist unconfidingness that comes from years of living under the highest discipline.

“I apologize for being late,” he said, taking a seat behind his large oak desk. “We had a disturbance down in O block. One of our resident Nortenos stabbed a rival in the neck.”

“How'd he get the knife?” Jacobi asked.

“No knives.” Estes smiled thinly. “He used the filed-down edge of a gardening hoe.”

I wouldn't have had Estes's job for a heartbeat, but I also didn't like the reputation this place had for beatings, intimidation, and the motto “Snitch, Parole, or Die.” “So, you said this was related to Chief Mercer's murder, Lieutenant?” The warden leaned forward.

I nodded, removing a case file from my bag. “To a possible string of murders. I'm interested in what you may know about a prison gang here.”

Estes shrugged. “Most of these inmates have been in gangs from the time they were ten. You'll find that every territory or gang domain that exists in Oakland or East L.A. exists here.”

“This particular gang is called Chimera,” I said.

Estes registered no immediate surprise. “No starting with the small stuff, huh, Lieutenant? So what is it you want to know?”

“I want to know if these murders lead to these men in Chimera. I want to know if they're as bad as they're made out to be. And I want to know the names of any reputed members who are now on the outside.”

“The answer to all of that is yes.” Estes nodded flatly.

“It's a sort of a trial by fire. Prisoners who can take the worst we can dish out. The ones who have been in the SHU's, isolation, for a substantial time. It earns them rank - and certain privileges.”

“Privileges?”

“Freedom. In the way we define it here. From being debriefed. From snitching.”

“I'd like a list of any paroled members of this gang.” The warden smiled. “Not many get paroled. Some get transferred to other facilities. I suspect there are Chimera offshoots at every max facility in the state. And it's not like we have a file of who's in and who's not. It's more like who gets to sit next to the Big Mother fucker at mess.”

“But you know don't you? You know who's in.”

“We know.” The warden nodded. He stood up as if our interview had come to an end. “It'll take some time. Some of this I need to consult on. But I'll see what I can do.”

“While I'm here, I might as well meet with him.”

“Who, Lieutenant?”

“The Big Mother fucker. The head of Chimera.”

Estes looked at me. “Sorry Lieutenant, no one gets to do that. No one gets into the Pool.”

I looked Estes in the eyes. “You want me to come back with a state order to get it done? Listen, our chief of police is dead. Every politician in this state wants this guy caught. I've got backing all the way. You already know that. Bring the bastard up.”

The warden's taut face relaxed. “Be my guest, Lieutenant. But he doesn't leave. You go to him.”

Estes picked up his phone and dialed a number. After apause, he muttered sharply

“Get Weiscz ready. He has a visitor. It's a woman.”