Page 104 of Secrets in the Dark
He smiled and turned to her. “Of course. I just... I just thought we were done worrying about him. And seriously? It was nice being tourists in London. For what? All of three days.”
She grinned back at him. “They were good days, though, right? They had to end because we were due back here anyway. And I talked to Jackson earlier. When we get Dante locked up again, we get a month. He promised.”
“Right. Unless something else happens,” Mason said.
She shook her head. “I know Jackson and Adam. They’re busy building up Blackbird, and in time we won’t be the only American representatives.”
He nodded and turned on his tablet. “Not sure if all this is the order in which it occurred, but this is still just... I don’t see how...all right, according to the reports, Dante was bleeding out so badly it was assumed he wouldn’t make it. He wasn’t cuffed to the bed because everyone thought he was all but dead. He grabbed the scalpel when the doctor and the nurse were urging quick care and ordering blood for transfusions. People ran out of the infirmary, he downed the nurse and then the doctor, and stole the doctor’s clothing, wallet and keys. Two guards walked in and he took care of them. He had apparently already gotten someone to somehow get him a fake MD’s identification and all the right certifications to slip into the doctor’s wallet. How the hell did he go from bleeding to death to slashing others and escaping in the blink of an eye?”
“Well, he isn’t a vampire,” Della said flatly. “The problem with Dante is he doesn’t use force as much as he uses charm and wiles. He is an extremely clever, intelligent man. I believe he’s one of those people who constantly studies online. And as we’ve known, he’s great at making friends among the killer elite.”
“Killers, forgers, bank robbers... I doubt he bothers to befriend those who can’t do anything for him. I just don’t understand. Then again, I still don’t understand how Jim Jones got nearly a thousand people to drink poisoned Kool-Aid. The power of the mind is incredible,” Mason said.
“Beyond a doubt. We’ve said it before—people believe because they want to believe. They grasp onto concepts and ideas that work for them because they’re down and out, because they’re bitter or because they’re in pain. Some are too smart to be swayed, but I believe our Mr. Dante recognizes those he can control and those he can’t—and he wastes no time on those who aren’t going to fulfill any of his needs.”
“That’s true.”
“The power of the mind,” Della murmured. “I spoke with our friend and colleague, Special Agent—Doctor—Patrick Law. He warned everyone Dante might pull something. They believed they had him in control because they had so much security he couldn’t possibly escape.”
“They tried to save his life,” Mason muttered.
“They’re bound by their oaths, too, Mason—oaths similar to those we took as law enforcement.”
“I know. I know. The Hippocratic oath,” Mason said.
“No choice,” she reminded him.
“So, we know he’s out. We will learn more on the particulars of how he did it. But heisout—so his escape isn’t the question.”
Della nodded and looked out the window. They would be landing soon. She rested her head back against the comfort of her chair wishing they’d managed to sleep.
Smiling grimly, she turned to Mason.
“He has escaped but the main question remains,” she said quietly, “just where will he strike next?”
When a high-risk prisoner manages to escape, he had to have had help, Mason believed.
While Della headed to the intensive care unit at the hospital to interview the nurse who had a slim chance of surviving the assault, he worked with the warden, a man named Roger Sewell, who was still in disbelief that such a thing could have happened.
“I’m sure you have already heard the particulars, but I’ll go over them again,” Sewell told him as they walked along the aisle where prisoners spent short incarcerations or awaited trial.
“It started in the cafeteria with the riot. Ridiculous thing, of course. No matter how hard anyone tries, there’s always a pecking order in a facility like this. You wind up with rival gangs within the walls themselves. Someone hit someone else in the face with a spoonful of grits. Then all hell broke out with food flying back and forth. Crowd insanity followed, several guards were injured and Stephan Dante was found on the bottom of a pile of men with a blood pool the size of Texas under him. Naturally, we rushed him straight to the infirmary, calling the doctor, warning that the prisoner might exsanguinate within minutes.”
“You found him in a pool of blood,” Mason said. He imagined the scene—and why guards and a smart man might be fooled.
“With a toothbrush shank still in him.”
Warden Sewell was a serious man, known for having handled the facility in his charge with diligence. He ran a tight ship while respecting human rights as recognized in the country and the state. His guards respected him. There had never been such a serious incident during his tenure. He continued disgustedly with, “Food fights happen. Gang membersgangup on a target and break his nose. But this food fight—ridiculous food fight—escalated into disaster.”
“It wasn’t a ridiculous food fight,” Mason told him, pausing along with the warden at the cell where Dante had so recently resided. “It was planned. And that pool of blood didn’t all belong to Dante—some of the blood, sure. But you’re going to find you have one or more other inmates who lostpoolsof blood in that fight.”
“Wait, you’re trying to tell me Dante planned a food fight to escape? But he didn’t attack any of the guards. He didn’t—”
“He planned to get to the infirmary,” Mason told him. “Just as he found someone—someone here on a more minor charge—to rig it so Dante’s assaults on the staff weren’t seen on the cameras. One of your prisoners is a damned good tech guy who breached the system.”
“No. That’s not possible—”
“Warden, I’m not throwing any stones here, trust me. This man has taken all of us in one way or another. But I doubt your guards were all asleep at the wheel. And when the police ran the security tapes, they saw nothing but a nurse moving back and forth across the infirmary. We know Dante assaulted his caretakers. And the guards who then tried to stop him. And then—caught on camera—he used the dead doctor’s identity and clothing to escape. Oh, yes, Dante was shanked. But he’s a man who made sure he drew blood without hitting any of his vital organs—”
