Light, prolonged
春分 [4] / [33]
“Hello, I’m Cynthia McIntyre, and this is Alexander Gresham. We’re booked for an interview with Lucas Aries.”
She said while she and Alexander produced their identification cards. The middle-aged female officer checking them in nodded.
“I’ve got the official documents already. Okay, then. I will guide you. Follow me.”
It had been quite a long time since Alexander had been to this particular prison. It'd been at least a few years back, when he was working a particularly nasty murder investigation.
An aging gangster, Herbert Soros, who'd already been incarcerated here on a life sentence, was still quietly coordinating his crew's activities from inside the prison system. When several members of a rival organization were gunned down in a coordinated hit, Alexander was tapped to head the investigating team responsible for tracking down those responsible.
They reconstructed the sequence of events from periphery to source, squeezing small-time thugs to get to their superiors. Eventually, all roads led to Soros, but he died in prison before any charges could be levied.
Cynthia had never been here before, but the smell―mildew and body odor mingled with disinfectant―and the sight of cheap paint peeling from the concrete walls were familiar to her. They turned right at the office, and traveled down a long narrow corridor with no doors or windows, save for the steel-reinforced double doors at the very end of the hall.
Only one way in, and one way out, thought Alexander.
The corrections officer escorting them produced a set of old-fashioned keys, and, after a moment, selected the right one, and opened the door. He ushered them in ahead of himself, and locked the door behind them. As they walked past an empty row of prison cells, barred concrete boxes set in the concrete like a massive, multi-story stone beehive, the guard broke his silence.
“It's not much farther. The interrogation room is just down the hall."
At the end of the prison block, there was a small metal door with the words “Interrogation Room 1" stenciled on its surface. When they entered, their guide bid them to have a seat.
“I just sent word to the warden that you've arrived, and the prisoner you're set to interview is being brought down now. Can I grab you anything while you wait? Coffee?"
Alexander shook his head, and held up his Thermos filled with coffee.
“No thanks. I'm good."
He never left home without his Coffee. Cynthia also declined, thanking him. There was already a pitcher of water on the table with cups, so she helped herself to that.
"I'll leave you to prepare. If you do need anything, just hit the buzzer on the wall."
