Ransom

“Good evening, gentlemen,” Ted said pleasantly, as all three men looked instantly guarded and hostile. They could smell cops a mile away.

“What brings you here?” Waters asked, once he heard where they were from.

“A little incident in our neck of the woods just yesterday,” Ted explained. “A car bombing of Judge McIntyre's vehicle. You may remember the name,” he said, looking Waters in the eye.

“Yes, I do. Couldn't happen to a nicer guy,” Waters said without hesitating. “Wish I'd had the balls to do it myself, but he's not worth going back to the joint for. Did they kill him?” he asked hopefully.

“Fortunately not. He was out of town. But whoever did it nearly killed his wife. The bomb missed her by about five minutes.”

“What a shame,” Waters said, looking entirely undismayed. Lee was watching him, and it was easy to see how smart he was. He was as cool as a glacier in Antarctica, but Ted was inclined to agree with the judge. There was no way Waters was going to risk going back to the joint by doing something as dumb as blowing up the sentencing judge's car. Although there was always the possibility that he was in fact just that ballsy, and just that cool. He could have gotten there by bus certainly, planted the bomb, and gotten back to Modesto again, in time for curfew at the halfway house, with time to spare. But Ted's instincts told him that this wasn't their man. It was an unholy trio, though. He knew who the other two were, and how long they'd been out. Ted always read the printouts when they got them. And he remembered their names. They were a nasty piece of work. He had never bought Waters's claims of innocence either, and he didn't trust him now. All convicts claimed that they'd been framed, and set up either by their girlfriends, their running partners, or their attorneys. He'd heard it too many times. Waters was a tough customer, and smoother than Lee liked. He had all the earmarks of a sociopath, a man with little or no conscience, and he was definitely a smart guy.

“Where were you yesterday, by the way?” Ted Lee asked, as Waters stood watching him with an icy stare.

“Around here. I took a bus ride to see some relatives. They were out, so I hung out on their porch for a while, came back, and sat around with these guys.” There was no one to corroborate the earlier part of his alibi, so Ted didn't bother to ask for names.

“How nice. Can anyone corroborate your whereabouts?” Ted asked, looking him right in the eye.

“A couple of bus drivers. I still have the ticket stubs, if you want.”

“Let's see the stubs.” Waters looked furious, but he went up to his room and brought them back. They showed a destination in the Modesto area, and had obviously been used. Only half the stubs were left. There was nothing to say he hadn't torn them himself, but Ted Lee didn't think he had. Waters looked totally unconcerned as Ted handed the tickets back. “Well, keep your noses clean, guys. We'll come back and see you sometime, if anything comes up.” They knew he had the right to question them, or even search them, whenever he chose. All three were on parole.

“Yeah, and don't let the door hit you in the ass on the way out,” Jim Free added under his breath as they left. Ted and Jeff heard what he said, but didn't react, got back in their car, and drove away, as Waters watched them with a look of hatred in his eyes.

“Pigs,” Malcolm Stark commented, and Waters said nothing. He just turned on his heel and went back inside. He wondered if every time they had a wrinkle in their shorts in San Francisco, they were going to show up and question him. They could do anything they wanted with him, and he could do nothing about it, as long as he was on parole. The only thing he didn't want was to get sent back.

“So what do you think?” Ted asked his partner as they drove away. “Think he's clean?” Ted was of two minds, and thought anything was possible. His gut was still suspicious of him, but his head told him that the bomb had to have been put there by someone else. Waters couldn't have been dumb enough to do something like that. He was smart. But Ted had to admit, he looked like a bad guy. The bomb could have been set there as a warning of bigger things to come, since a timed bomb would only have killed the judge or his wife if they were in the car or standing near it when the bomb went off.

“Actually, no I don't think he's clean,” Jeff Stone answered. “I think the guy's a nasty piece of work, and innocent on his first beef, my ass. I think he's ballsy enough to roll right into town, plant the bomb on McIntyre's vehicle, and come right back up here without missing lunch. I think he's capable of it. But I think he's too smart to do it. I don't think he did it this time. But I wouldn't trust the guy farther than I could throw him. I think he'll be back. We'll be hearing from him again.” They had both seen men like him go back to the joint too many times.