Vincent Zandri - The Innocent

Day Number Five for Corrections Officer Mastriano!

I folded the paper in half once more and this time slid it into the space between the armrest and the bucket seat.

I said, “The three stills I found in Vasquez’s cell on Monday afternoon were lifted off a home video Pelton took of him and Cassandra having sex. She claims that Marty Schillinger, of all people, is in the same video.”

“Let me get this straight, boss,” Val said, her eyes nearly popping out of her skull. “Not only has Pelton been running a major drug ring inside our own prison, but he and Schillinger have been making pornographic films with Vasquez’s girlfriend?”

“By the looks of things, Vasquez and Pelton forced her into it. Vasquez didn’t like it, but claimed he wasn’t bargaining with Pelton from a position of power, which was probably an accurate assessment.”

“Tell me something, Keeper,” Val said. “Why should a man like Vasquez make such a difference in Cassandra Wolf ‘s life? I mean, how did he hold so much power over her?”

“She was there the night that rookie cop took two slugs to the back of the head. She ran from the scene and called the cops. She turned her own boyfriend in, and for all these years he’s held it over her head, made her feel like an accomplice and a traitor.”

“And you believe her?” Val said. “You think a little guilt trip is enough to make a girl stay with a man who kills and runs drugs, even when he’s in prison?”

I thought about Cassandra lying on the floor of my grandfather’s cabin, her chest rising and sinking with steady, even breaths, and I pictured her eyes and the tattoo on her neck that appeared to pulse when she swallowed. It was true, I had no idea who she really was, what she had done, or what she was capable of doing. I could have told Val about the overcoat man and about what Cassandra did to him for me, for my life. But then I thought better of it. Knowing I was that vulnerable would not sit well with Val. It would only make her more concerned, more nervous. On the other hand, maybe Val’s concern was something I just wanted to believe in.

“Listen,” I said in as soft a voice as I could summon. “I believe Cassandra is telling the truth.”

“But don’t you think you’re forgetting one thing, Keeper?” Val said, taking my hand once more. “Maybe it’s not your heart that’s speaking to you at all. Maybe it’s your conscience. Maybe you feel you have no choice but to believe that Cassandra is telling the truth.”

From the front seat of Val’s station wagon we could see the mountains and the lush green valley to our right and the empty Champlain road to our left.

“Let me get this straight, Keeper,” Val went on. “Pelton was having sex with Vasquez’s girlfriend and getting it all on tape.”

“Like I already told you, Pelton was the sugar daddy for the drug operation, and now everyone is trying to blackmail him for more money, or so it appears.”

“So then Pelton’s been trying to pin this thing on you from the start, to try and save himself when news of the operation goes public.”

“I’m going to beat Pelton out of the gate,” I insisted. “But first you have to do me another favor.” I lit a cigarette and blew the initial hit of smoke out the open window.

Val nodded.

“I want you to call Tony Angelino for me. Tell him I want to hire his Guinea Pigs.”

“His what?”

“I’ll explain another time,” I said, taking another hit on the cigarette. “I want them to retrieve the videotape of Pelton and Cassandra, and the three hundred grand.”

Val smiled.

“Location,” she said, pulling out a pen and a cocktail napkin that said T.G.I. Friday’s on it out of her blazer pocket. She triggered the ballpoint and, at the same time, spread the cocktail napkin on her thigh for something to write on.

“It’s at a post office in Olancha, California. It’s a big cardboard box, like the kind televisions come in, and it’s addressed to Cassandra. Inside the box are three baby dolls. You know, oversized plastic dolls for little girls who like to play mommy.”

“I remember, boss,” Val said.

“Inside one of those dolls is a videocassette. Inside all three dolls is the three hundred grand. All in big, unmarked bills. Tell him there’s a hundred grand in it for him and his Guinea Pigs. All he has to do is get to it.”

“Maybe Tony’s got an L.A. contingent who can have it in hand by tonight,” Val said.

“If I know Tone,” I said, “that’s the case exactly. Just have him send the entire package overnight express to me at the Ironville post office.”

“What name do they use?”

“Use my grandfather’s name,” I said.

Val wrote fast.

“Go ahead,” she said.

“My grandfather’s name was Pasquale,” I said, taking a quick drag on my cigarette. “Pasquale Marconi.”

“There’s just one thing that bothers me,” Val revealed.

“What is it?”

“Can you trust Tony?”

“As much as I can trust you.”

Val smiled.

“What next?” she said.

“Then I want you and Tony to arrange a meeting.”

“With?”

“Schillinger and Pelton,” I said. “I want them both at the cabin tomorrow night at nine o’clock sharp. Tell them I’m aware of the truth now-the drug deal, the blackmail. Tell them I want to work it all out, that I know I made a mistake by running. Make it sound like they set me up real good and now I realize there’s no getting out of it without doing things their way. Ask them for their complete assurance, complete protection, and secrecy. No cops. Make sure you tell Pelton that all I want is my job back and that I know I made a mistake not working with him in the first place. Tell him I looked tired, haggard, scared, defeated. Really pour it on.”

Val looked out the window for a second or two. Then she looked at me and said, “What’s Pelton got to gain by coming all the way up here, Keeper? You’re already taking the rap. I mean, Pelton and Schillinger, they’re on easy street.”

“I’ll have the magic videotape by then,” I said. “They refuse to come up here, I’m going to deliver it directly to Chris Collins at Channel 13 news.”

“What if they still don’t go for it? Couldn’t they just claim the film was made for private viewing?”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to bring Cassandra in on my own terms, throw us both on the mercy of the court, if there ever was such a thing. That way, she’ll have her chance to testify not only about what she witnessed inside the hotel room in Athens yesterday afternoon, but about the entire drug operation. A jury will either believe her or they won’t. But one thing is for sure, a trial will make a big stink for everyone involved with Pelton, including Schillinger and Jake Warren, our illustrious senatorial hopeful.”

“So a little road trip may be worth it to them,” Val surmised.

“It’s important that I meet them on my own terms, on my own playing field.”

“I get it. Your turn to join the blackmail squad.”

“Time to clear my name of this thing, once and for all.”

Val smiled for the first time since she’d arrived. It was a sly, corner-of-the-mouth kind of smile that made me want to melt into the bucket seat.

“I’ll need detailed directions to the cabin,” she said.

“Tell Tony to be in his office tomorrow evening at five o’clock,” I said. “That’s when I’ll call him with the directions. In turn, he can relay them to Pelton and Schillinger.”

“You could just cut to the chase, give me the information right now.” She balanced the ballpoint pen above the T.G.I. Friday’snapkin as if to exaggerate her point.