Read Online If Tomorrow Comes by Sidney Sheldon - Free Book Online
Authors: Sidney Sheldon
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been assigned, Bertha.”
The amazon stroked Tracy’s face. Tracy jerked away, and the giant woman laughed. “It’s okay, littbarn. Big Bertha will see you later. We got plenty of time. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
They reached the warden’s office. Tracy was faint with anticipation. Would Charles be there? Or would he have sent his attorney?
The warden’s secretary nodded to the guard, “He’s expecting her. Wait here.”
Warden George Brannigan was seated at a scarred desk, studying some papers in front of him. He was in his mid-forties, a thin, careworn-looking man, with a sensitive face and deep-set hazel eyes.
Warden Brannigan had been in charge of the Southern Louisiana Penitentiary for Women for five years. He had arrived with the background of a modern penologist and the zeal of an idealist, determined to make sweeping reforms in the prison. But it had defeated him, as it had defeated others before him.
The prison originally had been built to accommodate two inmates to a cell, and now each cell held as many as four to six prisoners. He knew that the same situation applied everywhere. The country’s prisons were all overcrowded and understaffed.Thousands of criminals were penned up day and night with nothing to do but nurse their hatred and plot their vengeance. It was a stupid, brutal system, but it was all there was.
He buzzed his secretary. “All right. Send her in.”
The guard opened the door to the inner office, and Tracy stepped inside.
Warden Brannigan looked up at the woman standing before him. Dressed in the drab prison uniform, her face bruised with fatigue, Tracy Whitney still looked beautiful. She had a lovely, candid face, and Warden Brannigan wondered how long it would remain that way. He was particularly interested in this prisoner because he had read about her case in the newspapers and had studied her record. She was a first offender, had not killed anyone, and fifteen years was an inordinately harsh sentence. The fact that Joseph Romano was her accuser made her conviction all the more suspect. But the warden was simply the custodian of bodies. He could not buck the system. He was the system.
“Please have a seat,” he said.
Tracy was glad to sit down. Her knees were weak. He was going to tell her now about Charles, and how soon she would be released.
“I’ve been looking over your record,” the warden began.
Charles would have asked him to do that.
“I see you’re going to be with us a long time. Your sentence is fifteen years.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Something was dreadfully wrong. “Didn’t—didn’t you speak to—to Charles?” In her nervousness she was stammering.
He looked at her blankly. “Charles?”
And she knew. Her stomach turned to water. “Please,” she said. “Please listen to me. I’m innocent. I don’t belong here.”
How many times had he heard that? A hundred? A thousand? I’m innocent.
He said, “The courts have found you guilty. The best advice I can give you is to try to do easy time. Once you accept the terms of your imprisonment, it will be a lot easier for you. There are no clocks in prison, only calendars.”
I can’t be locked up here for fifteen years , Tracy thought in despair. I want to die. Please, God, let me die. But I can’t die, can I? I would be killing my baby. It’s your baby, too, Charles. Why aren’t you here helping me? That was the moment she began to hate him.
“If you have any special problems,” Warden Brannigan said, “I mean, if I can help you in any way, I want you to come see me.” Even as he spoke, he knew how hollow his words were. She was young and beautiful and fresh. The bull-dykes in the prison would fall on her like animals. There was not even a safe cell to which he could assign her. Nearly every cell was controlled by a stud. Warden Brannigan had heard rumors of rapes in the showers, in the toilets, and in the corridors at night. But they were only rumors, because
The amazon stroked Tracy’s face. Tracy jerked away, and the giant woman laughed. “It’s okay, littbarn. Big Bertha will see you later. We got plenty of time. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
They reached the warden’s office. Tracy was faint with anticipation. Would Charles be there? Or would he have sent his attorney?
The warden’s secretary nodded to the guard, “He’s expecting her. Wait here.”
Warden George Brannigan was seated at a scarred desk, studying some papers in front of him. He was in his mid-forties, a thin, careworn-looking man, with a sensitive face and deep-set hazel eyes.
Warden Brannigan had been in charge of the Southern Louisiana Penitentiary for Women for five years. He had arrived with the background of a modern penologist and the zeal of an idealist, determined to make sweeping reforms in the prison. But it had defeated him, as it had defeated others before him.
The prison originally had been built to accommodate two inmates to a cell, and now each cell held as many as four to six prisoners. He knew that the same situation applied everywhere. The country’s prisons were all overcrowded and understaffed.Thousands of criminals were penned up day and night with nothing to do but nurse their hatred and plot their vengeance. It was a stupid, brutal system, but it was all there was.
He buzzed his secretary. “All right. Send her in.”
The guard opened the door to the inner office, and Tracy stepped inside.
Warden Brannigan looked up at the woman standing before him. Dressed in the drab prison uniform, her face bruised with fatigue, Tracy Whitney still looked beautiful. She had a lovely, candid face, and Warden Brannigan wondered how long it would remain that way. He was particularly interested in this prisoner because he had read about her case in the newspapers and had studied her record. She was a first offender, had not killed anyone, and fifteen years was an inordinately harsh sentence. The fact that Joseph Romano was her accuser made her conviction all the more suspect. But the warden was simply the custodian of bodies. He could not buck the system. He was the system.
“Please have a seat,” he said.
Tracy was glad to sit down. Her knees were weak. He was going to tell her now about Charles, and how soon she would be released.
“I’ve been looking over your record,” the warden began.
Charles would have asked him to do that.
“I see you’re going to be with us a long time. Your sentence is fifteen years.”
It took a moment for his words to sink in. Something was dreadfully wrong. “Didn’t—didn’t you speak to—to Charles?” In her nervousness she was stammering.
He looked at her blankly. “Charles?”
And she knew. Her stomach turned to water. “Please,” she said. “Please listen to me. I’m innocent. I don’t belong here.”
How many times had he heard that? A hundred? A thousand? I’m innocent.
He said, “The courts have found you guilty. The best advice I can give you is to try to do easy time. Once you accept the terms of your imprisonment, it will be a lot easier for you. There are no clocks in prison, only calendars.”
I can’t be locked up here for fifteen years , Tracy thought in despair. I want to die. Please, God, let me die. But I can’t die, can I? I would be killing my baby. It’s your baby, too, Charles. Why aren’t you here helping me? That was the moment she began to hate him.
“If you have any special problems,” Warden Brannigan said, “I mean, if I can help you in any way, I want you to come see me.” Even as he spoke, he knew how hollow his words were. She was young and beautiful and fresh. The bull-dykes in the prison would fall on her like animals. There was not even a safe cell to which he could assign her. Nearly every cell was controlled by a stud. Warden Brannigan had heard rumors of rapes in the showers, in the toilets, and in the corridors at night. But they were only rumors, because
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