A Long Line of Dead Men

"Then someone else'll do it for you. What's the matter, you don't want to get your hands dirty? That's why they hired you, 'cause I know those fucks wouldn't get their hands dirty, but what's your problem that you got to pass the buck? I'm ashamed of you, Matt. I thought you had more to you than that."

"Nobody's going to kill you, Jim."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"Believe what you want," I said. "In an hour or so I'm getting back on the plane with the other fellows."

"And?"

"And you're staying here."

"What are you trying to say?"

"You haven't been arrested," I said, "and you haven't been charged, and there won't be a trial. But sentence has been passed, and it's a life sentence with no possibility of parole. I hope you like this room, Jim. You're going to spend the rest of your life in it."

"You're just going to leave me here?"

"That's right."

"Shackled like this? I'll fucking starve."

I shook my head. "You'll have food and water. Red Hawk Island is the property of Avery Davis. He comes here once a year to fish for smallmouth bass. The rest of the time there's nobody here except for the family of Cree Indians who live here and maintain the place. One of them will bring your meals to you."

"What about keeping myself clean? What about using the toilet, for Christ's sake?"

"Behind you," I said. "A toilet and a washbasin. I'm afraid you'll be limited to sponge baths, and you won't be changing your clothes much. There's another jumpsuit like the one you're wearing and that's the extent of your wardrobe. See the snaps along the inseam? That's so you can get the suit on and off without unfastening the ankle cuff."

"Great."

I watched his eyes. I said, "I don't think it'll work, Jim."

"What are you talking about?"

"You think you'll be able to get out. I don't think you will."

"Whatever you say, Matt."

"The Cree family has worked for Davis for twenty years. I don't think you're going to be able to bribe them or con them. You can't slip the shackle or open it, and you can't get the metal plate out of the concrete slab."

"Then I guess I'm stuck here."

"I guess you are. You can vandalize your cell, but it won't do you any good. If you break the glass out of the window, it won't be replaced- and it can get pretty cold here. If you wreck the toilet you'll get to smell your own waste. If you find a way to start a fire, well, Davis has instructed his employees to let the place burn down around you. No one's greatly concerned about saving your life."

"Why not kill me?"

"Your fellow club members don't want your blood on their hands. But they don't want any more of their blood on your hands, either. There's no appeal from this sentence, Jim. No time off for good behavior. You stay here until you die. Then you'll wind up in an unmarked grave, and they'll start reading your name again at the annual dinners."

"You son of a bitch," he said.

I didn't say anything.

"You can't keep me caged like an animal," he said. "I'll get out."

"Maybe you will."

"Or I'll kill myself. It shouldn't be too hard to figure out a way."

"It won't be hard at all," I said. I took a matchbox from my pocket, tossed it to him. He picked it up from the bed and looked at it, puzzled. I told him to open it. He picked up the contents, held it between his thumb and forefinger.

"What's this?"

"A capsule," I said. "Courtesy of Dr. Kendall McGarry. He had it made up for you. It's cyanide."

"What am I supposed to do with it?"

"Just bite down on it and your troubles are over. Or if that doesn't appeal to you-"

I pointed to a corner of the room. He didn't see it at first. "Higher," I said, and he raised his eyes and saw the noose dangling from the ceiling.

"If you drag a chair over there and stand on it," I said, "it ought to be just the right height. Then kick the chair out of the way. It should do for you as well as the belt in the closet door did for Hal Gabriel."

"You bastard," he said.

I stood up. "There's no way out," I said. "That's the bottom line, and it's the only thing you really have to know. Sooner or later you'll probably try to trick the Cree guard, figuring you can knock him out or overpower him. But that won't do you any good. You can't force him to release you because he couldn't manage it if his life depended on it. He doesn't have a key. There is no key. The cuff's not locked around your ankle, it's welded. You'd need a torch or a laser to get through it, and there's no such thing on the island."

"There has to be a way."

"Well, you could chew your foot off," I said. "That's what a fox or a wolverine would do, but I don't know how well it works for them, or how far they get before they bleed to death. I don't think you've got the teeth for it. Failing that, you can try the rope or the capsule."

"I wouldn't give you the satisfaction."