Alan Jacobson: Inmate 1577

Burden cleared his throat and knelt down in front of them. “Excuse me, ladies. But we just caught us a prolific killer. I think this moment calls for congratulations, no?”

Dixon got up, then extended a hand and pulled her friend to her feet.

Vail sighed deeply and wiped her eyes. “You’re right. Congratulations, Burden. You did an awesome job. You’re a hell of a cop, one who I’d go through a door with any day.”

Burden looked at Dixon. “Is she-is she being sarcastic?”

“No,” Dixon said, studying Vail’s face. “I think she meant it.”

Vail turned and walked away, away from the fallen bodies of Walton MacNally and Clay Allman. And as she did, she pulled out her phone to call Jonathan.

VAIL HAD HAD ENOUGH OF the confining cabins of helicopters. She wanted to feel the wind blowing in her face, through her hair. She needed something to reinvigorate her.

Dixon, Burden, and Vail boarded the Coast Guard cutter as it prepared to push off from the dock.

Burden leaned both forearms on the railing. “I feel like I should’ve joined them over the side. You know how many meals I’ve shared with Allman the past twenty years? The poker games, the nights in countless bars. The Giants games.” He kicked the wall of the boat. “He was right. I was totally fucking clueless. What kind of a cop am I?”

Vail moved closer to Burden, up against his forearm. “You couldn’t have known. You realize how many people have been fooled over the years by intelligent psychopaths? The list is long, and contains a lot of prominent names. You’re looking at one of ’em.”

Burden sighed long and hard, then hung his head.

Vail turned and looked at the Alcatraz cellhouse, the wind full in her face, the chill going down to her bones. But it didn’t help. The numbness ran too deep. She needed Robby. She wanted to talk with him, to bare her thoughts, fears, and…guilt.

She needed to hug her son.

A few moments later, she stood up straight and looked out at the cellhouse as the cutter eased past it. “What is it about this place?”

Dixon followed her gaze to the top of the island. “What do you mean?”

“It’s a legend, mythical almost. It housed the worst of the worst. Yet, I can’t help but think that the criminals we turn out nowadays are more violent, malevolent, evil. And we don’t know how to deal with them. Do we execute them? Lock ’em up? We can’t release them, but sometimes…we do. And a lot of them kill again. Because that’s the way they’re wired. Others don’t know how to survive in society and fall back on what they know how to do. What they find comforting.”

Burden watched as the boat jolted a bit, and then with a roar of the engines, its speed increased. “It’s always been that way, for as long as cops, and laws, existed. For as long as humans have existed.”

The bellow of a fog horn blared in the distance. Vail closed her eyes and took a deep breath of cold, salty sea air. “I guess all we can do is keep on keeping on. They break the law, we track ’em down and throw ’em behind bars.”

Dixon combed windblown blond hair from her face. “I have to think we’ll find a better way. Someday.”

They were silent as the place known as Devil’s Island retreated behind them. Whether or not “a better way” would be found remained to be seen. The evil Vail had personally fought for so many years gave her substantial doubt as to whether they’d ever find an effective means of dealing with society’s incorrigibles.

For the rest of her career, Alcatraz, and places like it, would likely remain the de facto standard. And for now, she was okay with that. Because at least behind bars, on rocks in the middle of oceans, or behind electrified fences and razor wire, the offenders could prey only on themselves. And the way Karen Vail saw it, that was the best she could hope for.

As always, I’ve attempted to be as factual as possible in the writing of Inmate 1577. I’ve consulted professionals, historians, archivists, correctional officers who worked at Leavenworth, and officers and others who worked, and lived, on Alcatraz. I’ve read numerous nonfiction books, reviewed original prison records, and worked with my usual cadre of experts, many of whom are mentioned below.

The nature and pacing of a novel forced me to condense the real-life Alcatraz June 11, 1962, escape attempt. In some cases where it was unclear from the archival evidence which inmate performed certain tasks in the escape, I assigned those to Walton MacNally. A more detailed discussion of Alcatraz fact versus Inmate 1577’s fiction can be found on a special page on my website, atinmate.alanjacobson.com.

As mentioned in my opening Author’s Note, this story was not an attempt to provide a factual depiction of the Morris-Anglin escape. Still, some of the Alcatraz inmates (and the associate warden) included in Inmate 1577 were real individuals. I’ve attempted to capture their personalities based on what I read of these people, but I am in no way claiming to have accurately portrayed them. My creative reconstruction could deviate from who they were as real persons.

Inmate 1577 was unusual for me because it spans five decades. As such, I had to write what was essentially an historical novel, which required me to seek out people who lived and worked at these locations in the late fifties and early sixties. I needed to know what the experience was like from multiple perspectives. While I spent a great deal of time at present-day Alcatraz (and even wrote some of the novel on the island), I’ve attempted to be as accurate as possible in both my physical descriptions and the conditions that existed there fifty years ago. To my knowledge, these depictions are correct.

I sincerely thank the following individuals who made it possible for me to write the story with the realism and credibility that I strive for in my novels:

Mary Ellen O’Toole, Senior FBI Profiler and Supervisory Special Agent (ret.) for her extensive assistance. I’ve worked with Mary Ellen for over fourteen years, and have always found her perspectives on her work as a profiler fascinating and insightful. She’s been instrumental in helping me to understand Karen Vail’s place in the unit and how others see her because Mary Ellen is the “real-life Karen Vail,” doing in truth what Vail does fictionally. I’ve not only valued Mary Ellen’s friendship, but her font of knowledge. In the case of Inmate 1577, it was particularly vital in helping me to get a handle on the psychopathic killer’s motivations and how he would react to Vail’s actions (and vice versa). Not only do I owe Mary Ellen thanks for her year-long feedback on the manuscript, but also for her thorough review of the novel after I’d typed the final period. If I can quicken Mary Ellen’s pulse, I know I’ve nailed the scene.

George DeVincenzi, former Alcatraz Correctional Officer (1950-57), for his anecdotes and honest appraisals of life on The Rock; his stories of his interactions with the inmates; his descriptions of what life was like as an officer; of what specific inmates were like as individuals; and for taking a trip with me to the island to retrace his former steps. George’s recall was remarkable, and his stories brought the cellhouse, hospital, barber shop, kitchen, Industries building, and grounds to life for me. He was a tremendous resource and I feel fortunate to have made his acquaintance. Likewise, his review of the manuscript for accuracy was important in my endeavor to get it right.