Thin Ice 6 - Hangman & Socrates (18 page)

He planned to stab Cartier with the pen and go for the gun in his top drawer.

“
Good,” Cartier returned, pushing his chair away from the desk and much to Jack’s disappointment, removing the gun from the top drawer.

Carlo chuckled seeing the look on Jack’s face, came and cut the tape off his right hand.

“
Don’t get cute, just write the note,” he told Jack, giving him a distasteful look.

Cartier held the small .22 on Jack the entire time, reading as he wrote. Jack was blinking back tears, wanting desperately to put some kind of clue into the note that his death was not his own choice. Unfortunately that wouldn’t happen. Signing it, Cartier snatched the paper from him and put it over to the side. Carlo quickly slipped the noose around his neck and tightened it.

“
Stand up,” he barked as Jack pulled against the chair, reminding him his hand was still taped.

“
Oh yeah, forgot,” Carlo chuckled again as Cartier continued to regard the Warden.

Carlo removed any traces of tape from Jack’s arms and wrists, before forcing him up into his desk chair.

“
Just so you won’t die with questions,” Cartier began as Carlo continued eyeing the warden hatefully.

“
I killed Pete’s sorry ass,” he told him as Jack swallowed hard and remained quiet behind the gag.

“
And I killed Loomie’s bitch ass,” Carlo told him as Jack again nodded his understanding.

“
We run this prison until we leave here,” Cartier told him. “We only wanted to be left alone, but you were determined that didn’t happen,” he went on as Carlo’s foot inched closer and closer to the chair.

“
Do you pray Warden,” Cartier asked.

Jack shook his head vigorously that he did.

“
I would think that now is the perfect time to get everything right with your creator, wouldn’t you,” he once again calmly questioned.

Isn’t this fun,
the demon in Carlo’s head begun. He smiled slightly, admitting that it was very enjoyable.
Watch him piss and shit himself when you hang him, like those little dogs we used to cut open with your knife,
the demon spoke taking Carlo back to a place he’d long forgotten. He didn’t know why he always had the urge to hurt something, this fascination with things dying.
Because they were always out to get us,
the demon answered for him as Carlo agreed. Shaking the thoughts he returned to the present as Jack was murmuring behind the gag and Cartier was watching him in fascination, like an interesting bug he was waiting to squash.

“
Well Jack, it’s been fun, but we have to leave now,” Cartier began anew.

Carlo smiled and placed his foot close to the base of the chair again.

“
I had steaks brought in for myself, Hangman, and some of our crew,” Cartier continued to taunt him.

“
We love to have our beef at least once or twice a month, that’s not bad is it,” he asked as Jack remained quiet and simply prayed for a miracle.

“
Goodbye Warden Duggard, they’ll probably name a wing after you or some shit like that,” Cartier told him. “What do you think Hangman,” he asked Carlo.

“
Well Socrates, I think they’ll name a toilet after him, being the asshole that he is,” Carlo replied kicking the chair out from under him as Jack’s body dropped like a weight and his neck popped.

His eyes bulged out of their sockets as Carlo stepped closer, climbing on the desk and removing the taped gag. The two men left the office with Horse, who stood outside keeping the coast clear, and headed for their dinners.

16

Roderick smiled as he looked at the pictures of his and Hope’s daughter. She was almost six years old now. Sighing deeply Roderick prayed once again for forgiveness.
Who made you God,
his conscience dogged.

“
It was best,” he murmured aloud.

The child was fine. She was being loved and cared for by the couple he’d placed her with. They were old friends from years gone by and had worked together on various cases before the couple retired from the Agency. He couldn’t change the Cisneros blood that flowed through the baby’s veins, but Roderick would not chance her being influenced or judged because of it. No one would ever know this child was related to Carlo Cisneros. That was the things he used to stay firm in his decision and not revoke the still pending adoption proceedings. As if on cue the fax machine began spitting out papers. Roderick picked up the documents, reading with interest the information printed on them.

Roderick received a monthly report on both Carlo and Hope each and every month. The one for Carlo he justified with an ongoing effort to ensure the crime ring was completely defunct and no longer a threat. The one on Hope was personal and pulled strictly as a favor to him by one of his friends in the reporting department. Roderick was pleased with the one on Carlo. It seemed he was finally settling into prison confinement, no longer getting into trouble or sent to solitary confinement. His desk phone rang disturbing his thoughts once again.

“
This is Aarick,” he answered, using his real name.

The caller returned the greeting, going on to identify themselves.

“
Glad you called me back,” Roderick returned. “I have everything set up and you can stop by anytime to pick up your credentials.”

The caller told him that was great news and after offering a timeframe to retrieve them, disconnected.

Sitting back in his desk chair, Roderick pondered his latest project. With the birth of his daughter, he needed to know what made Carlo tick. The man was pure evil and he operated completely without compassion.

“
What makes a human being turn into a monster like that,” he mumbled aloud.

This was exactly what the man on the phone was going to answer for him. Dr. Rait Powell was one of the country’s best criminal psychiatrists and Roderick was sending him to the Leavenworth Federal Penitentiary to work with Hangman Cisneros. Roderick truly hoped he would get him the answers to the one common question everyone seemed to have when it came to Carlo Cisneros, Cartier Lemmings, and The Association; why?

*****

Carlo was trying hard not to hit Meredith as she talked; showing him pictures of the child she claimed was his.

“
Carlo, she’s such a sweet child,” she told him as he sighed deeply, uninterested.

Meredith saw the look on his face and knew she still wasn’t getting through to him.

“
Why won’t you accept her Carlo,” she finally asked in exasperation.

“
Because she’s not mine,” he returned flatly.

Sighing deeply once more, Meredith again assured him without doubt the child was his.

“
Why won’t you just leave me alone,” Carlo asked.

He didn’t have sex with her anymore preferring to masturbate or get head from yet another female impersonator in the prison.

“
Because your daughter deserves to know her father,” she replied angrily.

Meredith was almost at her end with his attitude and him disowning their daughter.

“
Then you need to find him and introduce them,” he told her once again, the look and tone, deadly.

“
She is your daughter,” Meredith iterated once more through clenched teeth, her fury matching his own.

Carlo rose from his seat in the recreation room, walking over to her as she stood her ground. Leaning close he whispered in her ear as Meredith’s eyes grew big.

“
Bitch,” he said simply as she fled the room, tears starting to spill down her cheek.

Carlo returned to his seat, relaxing and enjoying the TV that blared mindlessly. Things were much better under the new warden. He was basically a legitimate crime lord. Dope flowed freely into the prison making Carlo’s habit easier to feed. He was still feeling bad more times than not, so he was going to finally surrender and go see the prison doctor. He hoped to find out what was going on with him and secure some medication to quickly bring him back to his old self. Things were moving extremely slowly getting him and Cartier out of prison. With Lonette’s death they had almost no one left to make things happen to get the people in power the money they requested. If they didn’t move soon, they would find themselves trapped in this hell forever as people grew older and changed positions on almost a daily basis.
We need to worship and to sacrifice,
the demon began anew. Carlo hadn’t performed any of the rituals since his incarceration almost three and a half years ago.
That’s why nothing is going right for you,
it continued to torment. Carlo sighed lightly accepting the words that the demon spoke as truth.  Carlo got up from the chair and headed into the laundry room where he knew Horse was working today. He needed things to perform the ritual and Horse was the man who could get them. Passing the guards desk, he glanced Meredith, head down, defeated look on her face as she ignored his presence and continued to doing the crossword puzzle in her hand. Carlo smiled slightly, praying she’d finally gotten the message and that he saw no more of her than necessary and heard absolutely nothing else about her bastard child.

******

Rait arrived in Kansas right on schedule and checked into his hotel. He stood in the mirror taking in his reflection as he thought about his assignment. Rait wasn’t a young man or a strong man. He was average by all standards; 5’9” tall, pudgy midsection and the small rimmed glasses made him look harmless. It was the clear hazel eyes that gave away the hawk tendencies that resided inside of him. Rait sighed softly and returned to the bed in his room sitting down and opening the file on Carlo Cisneros. He read with interest everything the printed pages told him about the supposed monster he was to begin interviewing and treating tomorrow. He took note of the man’s deeply violent and bloody penchants for death, sighing once again. Rait didn’t want to die trying to get answers from this man. He relaxed recalling they would be inside a federal maximum security prison and Carlo Cisneros would be shackled.
I could have him sedated if need be,
he thought and jotted a quick note.

Reading about the abuse Carlo was convicted of concerning his daughter, Rait grew slightly uncomfortable, but for very different reasons. Skipping that section of the file, he found the portion that contained the information on his wife, Auriel. Most the accounts had been given by his sister, Hope and some of Carlo’s own associates who’d met the woman or spent time with the couple as they interacted. Rait found several points he wanted to explore with Carlo when they finally sat down face to face.
This research should definitely put me on track to get that article published in the Psychiatrists Journal,
he thought and chuckled once more, pouring the rest of the soft drink from the can into the waiting ice in his glass. His phone rang, causing him to jump as it jolted him from the file he’d delved into.

“
Yes,” he answered still slightly annoyed at the intrusion.

“
Are you settled and ready for tomorrow,” Roderick asked.

“
I’m actually reading the file a bit more now, taking points I want to discuss with him,” Rait replied as he finally gave the man his full attention.

“
Be careful Rait,” Roderick warned. “This man is deadly, locked up or not, and he’s definitely crafty beyond measure.”

Rait dismissed the warning assuring Roderick he was the expert here and Carlo Cisneros would respond to treatment just like any other patient.

“
He’s only a man,” he replied arrogantly. “You people should stop pumping up all this legend, it only feeds into his narcissism,” Rait scolded.

Roderick smiled slightly, unseen by the man, thinking how foolish he was and how quickly he would find out.

“
OK Rait, it’s your show, just get results,” Roderick returned and let the conversation go.

Rait assured him he would contact him after they met tomorrow and the two disconnected.

“
Time to get rested so I can be at my professional best tomorrow,” Rait chuckled as he climbed into bed and closed his eyes, sleep finding him almost immediately.

*******

Horse was terrified as he stood in the eerily illuminated cell. He didn’t dare share that fear or voice his objection to what was about to happen. To do that would sign his death warrant. Carlo demanded his presence and his loyalty. Horse dutifully gave both. He looked around the room taking in the scene as Carlo continued to chat quietly in a sing song monotone, eyes closed, as he swayed back and forth, speaking in rapid fire French, arms waving wildly on occasion only to fall back limply to his sides moments later. There were several candles burning, some white, others a deep blood red. Carlo had given Horse the list of things he need almost two weeks ago and he’d painstakingly acquired each one. Cartier wasn’t present. He was a God fearing, God believing, Catholic and he considered Carlo’s practice of the dark arts blasphemous. Horse only wished he could have declined the invitation, but he wasn’t Cartier and Carlo would have killed him.

Carlo began chanting again, this time a bit louder than before, breaking Horse’s ponderings and returning his attention to the small altar that Carlo had constructed. There was a menagerie of objects present, a couple of small skulls, rats not human. Horse couldn’t find a way to get the ones he’d requested, but Carlo hadn’t gone off on him for the substitution. Aside from the skulls there were a couple of crudely made voodoo dolls, feathers, and two small containers. Horse didn’t know what they were for, but had the feeling before the night ended he would. Carlo continued to chant as he unwrapped the final item he’d asked Horse to procure. The larger man stared at the huge cows tongue as it laid on the newspaper it had been wrapped in. They’d kept it in the large prison cooler when it was delivered earlier this evening.