"You got a better idea, Bross?" Bodine said.
"Yeah," Bross said. "Keep it simple. These are hicks with guns. All we do is tell him we can't wire money from any computer outside of Hammond headquarters. The way it should be. The way it was supposed to be."
"No," I said. "You don't want to bluff him like that. If he's done his homework, he'll know that's not true."
"Most of us didn't know if we could or not," Barlow said. "Why should he know any better?"
"And what if he has a source inside the company?" I said. "We sure as hell don't want to get caught lying to him. Do we, Ron?"
Slattery didn't reply. He didn't have to.
"Let's not find out the hard way what he knows and what he doesn't," I said.
"Then we just pay it," Bross said.
"And after we pay the ransom," I said quietly, "what makes you think these guys are going to just let us go?"
Bross started to reply, but stopped.
"They're not wearing masks or hoods," I said. "For all I know, they're using their real names. They're not concerned about being identified. Why do you think that might be?"
"Oh, Jesus," said Barlow, realizing.
"There's only one possible reason," I said. "They don't plan to leave any witnesses."
Cheryl's fingernail came to a stop. Lummis exhaled audibly, tremulously.
"I don't have any duress code worked out with my office," Slattery said.
"Just say something unexpected," I said. "Something off. Something that might alert someone who knows you well enough that you're in trouble."
"But what about Grogan and Danziger?" Slattery turned to me. "For all I know, one or both of those guys has our account numbers memorized. They might think they're being helpful and volunteer the information to Russell, then there's no phone call."
I nodded. "We have to get to them, that's all. Make sure they know the plan."
Grogan and Danziger were sitting on the other side of the river-stone fireplace, twenty or thirty feet away. The fireplace jutted out a good six feet. They were so far away that we couldn't even see them.
The only way to speak to them was actually to get up and move around the fireplace to the other side. But the moment one of our kidnappers saw anyone attempting that…
"This is idiotic," Bross said. "All this 'duress code' crap. It'll never work."
"If you have another idea," Slattery said, "let's hear it."
Then the front door banged, and Russell entered.
37
A few months after I got to Glenview, a new boy was admitted to D Unit. He was a scrawny little kid named Raymond Farrentino, in for dealing drugs. He was fifteen but looked twelve, and his voice hadn't even changed yet. He looked like a girclass="underline" long eyelashes, a delicate nose. He spoke with a stammer. His laugh sounded like a cartoon woodpecker.
Someone gave him the nickname Pee Wee.
I became his protector, for no reason except that he had no one else, and I felt bad for him. He was easy prey. He couldn't fight. I knew how that used to feel.
But Pee Wee returned the favor many times over. He was smart and clever, and he quickly had the place wired. He figured out how to defeat the electronic door locks on the cells so we could get out at night. He studied the guards' schedules and knew when the halls of D Unit were unwatched, when they went out for a smoke. He devised a method to get drugs inside: He convinced one of the kids to get his brother to stash drugs inside tennis balls and toss them over the fence into the wooded area near the carpentry shop, where they could be retrieved easily. If you wanted to get or hide contraband, like cigarettes or booze, you'd turn to Pee Wee for advice.
It took him a few months, but he found his place in the hierarchy. He became respected for his expertise. He began to smile from time to time. Even, once in a while, to laugh.
One day, though, he started acting different. He became subdued, withdrawn. I couldn't figure it out. I began to notice long, deep slashes on his face, which he refused to explain. After a while, his face became seamed, crisscrossed with angry red scars.
Finally I confronted him, demanded to know who was doing this to him. I told him I'd take care of whoever it was.
He showed me his bloodstained undershorts, told me that Glover, the chief guard on D Unit, was coming into his room at night. He'd switch off the surveillance camera and do things to him that he couldn't talk about.
He said he was thinking seriously of killing himself, and he knew how to do it. Then he showed me the loose steel coil he'd removed from his mattress and sharpened on the concrete floor of his room. He admitted that he was slashing his own face.
He didn't want to look pretty anymore.
38
Who's been smoking?" Russell said.
He sniffed the air, turned toward the dining table. "Verne, that you?"
"What about it?" Verne said.
"I don't want to be breathing secondhand smoke. You take it outside next time."
"Sorry, Russell. Okay if I go out for a smoke right now?"
I had a feeling he was going to do more than smoke a cigarette.
"Make it fast," Russell said. He clapped his hands. "All right, let's get down to business. Where's my little buddy Ronald?"
He crossed the room to our side of the fireplace. "How're you doing there, little guy?"
Slattery nodded sullenly. "Fine."
Upton Barlow said, "I need to use the bathroom."
Russell ignored him. "You have a family, Ronald?"
Slattery hesitated.
"Three daughters, right?"
Slattery looked up suddenly. "What are you-?"
"Divorced, that right?"
"We're-separated. How do you-?"
"You cheat on your wife, Ronald? Is that what happened?"
"We're separated, I said. Not divorced."
"You cheat on her?"
"I don't have to answer this."
Russell patted his holster. "No, you don't," he said. "You always have a choice."
"No," Slattery said. "I'll-I'll answer. I didn't start seeing anyone until after our marriage pretty much-"
"Ronald," he interrupted, shaking his head and making a tsk-tsk sound. "If a man can't live up to his marital vows, why should anyone trust his word? You love your daughters, Ronald?"
"More than anything in the world," Slattery said. His voice shook, tears flooding his eyes.
"How old are they, your daughters?"
"Sixteen, fourteen, and twelve."
"Aw, that's nice. That's sweet. But girls can be difficult at that age, am I right?"
"Please," Slattery said. "Please don't do this."
"Am I right?"
"I love them with all my heart. Russell, please."
"No doubt you do. But they don't live with you, do they? You're probably too busy to have a houseful of teenage girls."
"No, that's not why. My wife and I agreed the girls should live with their mother."
"So Daddy's free to screw chicks in his bachelor pad, huh?"
"That's not it at all-"
"I'll bet their dad's an important figure in their lives anyway."
"Very," Slattery managed to choke out.
"Gotta be tough on the girls not to have a dad around the house. Especially at such an important time."
"For God's sake," Barlow broke in, "will you let me go to the john?"
"They spend every weekend with me," Slattery said, "and every-"
"That the best you can do, Ron? Weekends? But I guess it's better than nothing, right? Better to have a weekend dad than no dad at all."
"Please," Slattery said, "what do you want?"
"I'm counting on you, Ronald. To make sure everything goes smoothly."
Slattery nodded frantically.
"I need to take a goddamned piss!" Barlow shouted abruptly. "I'm about to explode. You want me to do it right here on the floor?"
"Upton, please. I'm speaking with Ronald."
"This is cruel and inhumane," Barlow said.