Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 118, No. 2, March 19, 1938
- Автор: Clark Dale, 12627 Convict
- Год: 1938
- Язык: английский
- Год: The Red Star News Company
- Жанр: Другие детективы
Электронная книга - «Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 118, No. 2, March 19, 1938». Краткое содержание книги:
“You got me wrong, Deputy,” said Doolin, “I didn’t come here with any intention of escaping. It’s true I’ve got a bad record, but you won’t find anything on it about escaping. You can believe it or not but this is a bum beef that got me this 25 years. I’m not guilty of this rap.”
“Whether you’re guilty or innocent,” said the deputy, “is not our concern. The courts found you guilty or you wouldn’t be here. If you can prove your innocence and get out we shall not put anything in your way. We’ll treat you right as long as you treat us right.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, Deputy,” said Doolin, pulling his chair closer to the official’s desk and leaning forward confidentially. “You see I’ve done time in so many joints and hung out with crooks all my life and I’ve got so I know most of them either personally or by reputation. These men trust me, Deputy, for I’ve never been known to put the finger on a man in my life. But now it’s different. I’ve got 25 years to build and I’m getting pretty well up in years. I’ve got sense enough to know that if I play ball with you people you can help me get out of here. Now I always said if I ever turned stoolpigeon I would be a first-class one and I’m ready to do just that. And I’ll guarantee there isn’t another man in this joint who can do you more good and never be suspected than I can.”
“I don’t believe you, Doolin,” said the deputy. “I think you’re trying to work some kind of an angle on me, but I’m willing to gamble a little with you to find out. Our warden here doesn’t believe in using informers, but you know as well as I do that no man can run the inside of a prison without using them. I’m going to put you to work in the kitchen for the time being, and meanwhile I’m going to keep an eye on you and see just how sincere you are.”
Doolin reported to the kitchen for duty and found several men there he had known in other jails and prisons. These men, knowing him to be trustworthy in the past, put him in right with the others and it was not long before Mickey was in on the petty rackets being practiced in connection with food supplies being stolen from the state. For several weeks he shared in the profits to be made from stolen bits of food, and then almost every night one of the waiters going from the kitchen to his quarters would be called out of line and searched, and in every case the man would be carrying a contraband package of food. The kitchen connivers put their heads together in an effort to discover how the deputy warden was managing to catch the right men each night. They finally came to the conclusion that some prisoner working in the kitchen was tipping off the official.
“We know it ain’t any of the four of us,” said Mickey, when asked for his opinion. “We’ve all known each other in other joints and we know there ain’t a stoolpigeon in the bunch.”
“That’s right.”
The others agreed with him and Mickey continued sending the brief notes to the deputy warden which led to the discovery of the men carrying away and selling the stolen foodstuff from the kitchen. The deputy found an opportunity to compliment Doolin on his fine undercover work and the prisoner assured him that he was going to prove to be the best stoolpigeon ever to enter the institution.
The deputy warden was still puzzled at Doolin’s attitude and wondered if the man was sincere or trying to work some sort of an angle to bring about an opportunity to escape. He decided to watch Doolin closely, for many years of experience in handling convicts had taught him that it was seldom that a criminal with a long record in back of him ever turned stool-pigeon.
Having disposed of a number of kitchen workers by having them caught with contraband food, Doolin was eventually promoted to the position of night cook. It took Mickey several weeks to have his three close friends assigned to the flight shift with him.
“What could be sweeter than this?” Doolin asked his companions one night as they ate their midnight lunch. “Here we are all longtimers with records and working at night in the kitchen. We are closer to getting out of this joint than any other guys in the prison.”
“I’ll have to admit that you have done more in a few months than we have been able to do in several years,” admitted Red McCarthy, a bank robber doing forty years. “And I’ve been curious to know how you did it.”
“I’m going to cut you guys in on the secret,” said Mickey, “because I know we’re all going out of here together one of these dark nights. Some of you may not agree with what I’ve done, but it was the only out I could see, and we are doing too much time to try to do it all. When I first come here I told the deputy warden that I realized I had more time than I could build and I offered to be a stoolpigeon for him. Well, he knew that I was friendly with all the right guys in the joint, and of course he was tickled to death to add me to his long list of finks. Naturally, I had it in mind all the time to crash the joint but I had to have help. I knew all you guys were doing long jolts and I knew you could be depended on, so in order to convince the deputy that I was on the level with my snitching I had some of these guys carrying chuck to the cellhouses knocked over. They weren’t our kind of people anyway, and none of them was doing a long time, so my conscience don’t hurt me none for what I done. The result is that we are all working on the night shift and got the best chance we’ll ever have of leaving this place without telling the deputy goodby. What do you guys think of the way I planned this thing?”
“Well,” drawled Red, “I’ll have to admit that you got us in a pretty good spot to lam the joint, but somehow or other I don’t think I could have put the finger on those other guys. Still, I suppose it was necessary in order to get in the deputy’s confidence and have him accept your recommendations as to us guys.”
“Those guys who got knocked over with the chuck don’t mean a thing to us,” said Mickey. “The most of them are ‘Honest Johns’ anyway, and the few days they put up in the hole ain’t going to hurt them. Now we’ll have to get our heads together and figure out how we’re going to crash the joint. We don’t want to lose too much time, but neither do we want to go into the thing without figuring every angle. If we mess up this chance we’ll never get another one like it.”
Night after night Mickey and his three companions went over every detail of their escape plan. Saw blades to cut the bars of the basement window, civilian clothing to don after scaling the wall, an automobile for a getaway, these were all discussed. Finally, after several weeks discussion, the plans were complete and a definite date was set for the escape. Hacksaw blades had been stolen from the automobile tag plant and were secreted in the kitchen ready for use. Saturday night was set as the time for the escape, Mickey arguing that Sunday would afford better opportunities for avoiding the dragnet which would be thrown out for them. Mickey’s companions were jubilant over the prospects of early liberty which seemed to be almost within their grasp and they were loud in their praise of the man who had made it possible for them to escape. Mickey also seemed to be well pleased, but he told the others he was doing this as much for himself as for then. If his companions had been present at an interview between the prisoner and the deputy warden they would have had a better understanding of the patience with which Mickey had planned the escape and his eagerness for his companions to join him.
“I told you, Deputy,” said Mickey, “when I first came here that I would make you the best informer you ever had, and in return I, of course, expect you to do something for me.”