Read Online Power in the Blood by Michael Lister - Free Book Online Page A

again.
    “Who else was in the building at that time?”
    “Well, let’s see. There was Nurse Anderson, and our inmate orderly, Allen Jones, was gathering the trash and cleaning the exam rooms.”
    “What about the trash? When is it picked up?”
    “Early in the morning usually. I’m not really sure. Our orderly always gets it ready and puts it out here to be picked up.”
    “Is that orderly here now?” I asked.
    “Yeah, I think so,” she said.
    “Can I talk with him?” I asked.
    “Sure. Let’s go back inside,” she said taking a long final draw on the stub of her cigarette and tossing it into the ashtray.
    We found her orderly, the same old black man that I had denied a phone call to earlier this morning, in one of the storage closets near the back. She told him that I wanted to talk to him and that we could go into the staff break room, which was just around the corner.
    I could tell he didn’t want to talk to me, but he swaggered toward the break room nonetheless.
    “This won’t take long,” I said when we were finally seated at the table in the break room. “I’m sorry I couldn’t let you use the phone this morning.”
    He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but didn’t say anything. I continued.
    “I just want to know how you normally gather and take out the trash down here and if you did it any differently on Monday night or Tuesday morning.”
    Without facial or verbal expression he said, “I gather it all up before I leaves every night and puts it near the back door were you’s just standing. Then, in the morning I picks up any new trash and sets them outside the door. The officer and inmate who pick up the trash then come around and pick it up.”
    “Is that how it happened Tuesday morning?” I asked.
    He shook his head slowly. “I already told the inspector. I gathered it all up and put the bag in the back hall, then Miss Anderson come say she need me to clean up a spill in the exam room. When I come back to load it on the truck, the bag was gone. Miss Anderson was with me. She can tell you. The trash wasn’t outside the door neither, and the truck was gone.”
    “Did you see the inmates in the infirmary that morning?” I asked.
    “Yes, sir,” he said nodding his head. Each time his head went down I wondered if it would come up again. In addition to seeming old, Allen Jones seemed weary, as if every year he had lived was a hard one.
    When he didn’t elaborate, I added, “Anything unusual about them?”
    “No, sir. All three were lying there in they beds sleepin’.”
    “All three?” I asked, the surprise in my voice obvious. “Who else was there?”
    He wondered if he had said something wrong. Then after a long pause, he said, “Johnson, Jacobson, and Thomas.”
    “You saw Thomas in an infirmary bed that morning?”
    “Yes, sir. Well, I thought I did. I could’ve been . . . maybe I didn’t see him. I don’t know,” he said.
    “What time were you in there?”
    “Can’t say, sir. Don’t wear a watch. But I come in at four. It wasn’t too long after that,” he said.
    “Did you see Jacobson and Johnson fighting around five?” I asked.
    “No, sir. I’s still gathering up the trash and cleaning up. I’s all over the building.”
    I walked back to the nurses’ station and called the trash officer, Officer Shutt, whose acquaintance I had briefly made the day before.
    “How are you doing?” I asked.
    “Better,” he said. “Thanks. And thanks for your help yesterday. I just freaked.”
    “I understand,” I said. “It was an awful thing you had to experience. I’m surprised you’re back at work so soon.”
    His voice became slightly defensive as if I had made an accusation. “Whata you mean? I’m just trying to do my job, to stay busy so I don’t have to think about it. That’s all. It wasn’t my fault, just an awful accident I was involved in.”
    “Of course,” I said. “How do you think Johnson got into that trash bag to begin with?”
    “Johnson?