Chapter 6: The Prisoner Who Disappeared
For a moment, nobody moved.
Marcus Bell had been serving a twelve-year sentence for murder.
According to the prison records, he was supposed to remain in custody.
But now the county detention center was reporting that he had disappeared.
I turned toward the dispatcher.
"How long has he been missing?""
She looked at the phone.
"About forty minutes.""
"Was his release authorized?""
"I don't know, Your Honor.""
I looked at Greene.
"Find out immediately.""
He turned to one of the marshals.
"Contact the detention center. Request the complete movement log, visitor records, surveillance footage, and every release authorization from today.""
The marshal hurried away.
Voss grabbed the intercom.
"This is Sheriff Voss. Lock down the entire facility!""
The dispatcher hesitated.
"Sir, we're already checking the exits.""
"Then check them harder!""
Hale stepped away from the counter.
"I need to leave.""
Greene turned.
"No.""
"I'm the district attorney. I need to coordinate with the detention center.""
"You can coordinate from here.""
Hale's face reddened.
"You cannot detain me without cause.""
"Then don't give us one.""
I watched him.
He was sweating now.
His expensive suit no longer looked impressive. His perfectly arranged hair had become disheveled, and his fingers kept moving toward his phone.
"Mr. Hale," I said, "when did you last see Marcus Bell?""
He looked at me.
"I haven't seen him in years.""
"Did you authorize his transfer?""
"No.""
"Did you authorize his release?""
"Absolutely not.""
"Then why are you so concerned about the original evidence file?""
He froze.
Voss stepped between us.
"That's enough. She's not conducting an interrogation here.""
I turned toward him.
"Neither are you.""
Greene approached with his phone.
"Your Honor, the detention center has confirmed something.""
"What?""
"Marcus Bell was transferred out of the facility at 12:58 p.m.""
I glanced at the clock.
2:07 p.m.
"Who authorized it?""
Greene checked his screen.
"An electronic release order bearing the district attorney's authorization.""
Hale immediately protested.
"That's impossible.""
Greene showed him the screen.
The document displayed Hale's electronic signature.
Beneath it was the name of the receiving agency.
*BELLHAVEN COUNTY SHERIFF'S DEPARTMENT.*
Voss stared at the screen.
"That's not my signature.""
Greene looked at him.
"The order lists your department as the receiving agency.""
"Then someone forged it.""
I stepped forward.
"Who has access to the authorization system?""
Hale answered too quickly.
"Several administrative employees.""
"Names?""
"I'd need to review the records.""
"Then we'll review them.""
He shook his head.
"This is getting out of control.""
"No, Mr. Hale. It appears someone has been controlling it for twelve years.""
A marshal returned.
"Deputy Marshal Greene, we've got the detention center footage.""
He placed a tablet on the counter.
The video showed a uniformed officer entering the prisoner's processing area.
A few minutes later, Marcus Bell appeared.
He was thin, with short hair and a tired expression.
He wore an orange detention uniform.
An officer handed him a set of civilian clothes.
Then another officer escorted him through a side exit.
There was no struggle.
No alarm.
No attempt to stop him.
The footage showed him entering a black SUV.
I leaned closer.
"Pause it.""
The marshal froze the image.
The vehicle's rear license plate was visible.
Greene enlarged the picture.
I recognized the number.
It belonged to a county-owned vehicle.
"Whose vehicle is that?"" I asked.
The marshal checked the registration.
"Assigned to the sheriff's office.""
Everyone looked at Voss.
He shook his head.
"I don't recognize it.""
Deputy Cole spoke for the first time.
"That's vehicle twelve.""
Voss turned sharply.
"Nobody asked you.""
Cole swallowed.
"Sir, I drove that vehicle last week.""
Greene looked at him.
"Who had it today?""
Cole hesitated.
Then he answered.
"Deputy Mason.""
"Where is Deputy Mason now?""
Nobody knew.
The dispatcher checked the duty roster.
"He's not answering his radio.""
Voss grabbed the desk.
"Call his personal phone.""
She did.
It rang.
And rang.
Then went to voicemail.
Greene looked toward me.
"Your Honor, we need to establish whether Marcus Bell was unlawfully released or transferred.""
I nodded.
"Agreed. But we also need to establish why someone wanted him out of custody on the same day this evidence investigation became active.""
Hale rubbed his face.
"Maybe he escaped.""
I looked at him.
"An inmate doesn't escape through a guarded side entrance, receive civilian clothes, and leave in a county vehicle without assistance.""
Hale said nothing.
Then Reed approached us again.
"Your Honor, there's something else.""
He held up a printed access log.
"I checked the digital records for the release order.""
"What did you find?""
"It was generated from the sheriff's office terminal.""
"Which one?""
He pointed to the identification number.
I looked at Voss.
He looked away.
Reed continued.
"The terminal is inside Sheriff Voss's private office.""
Voss exploded.
"That's a lie!""
Reed didn't move.
"Sir, the system records the terminal ID.""
"Anybody could have used my computer!""
"Your login credentials were used.""
Voss stepped toward him.
"You're finished, Reed!""
Greene immediately moved between them.
"Back away, Sheriff.""
Voss stopped.
I looked at Reed.
"Can the access log be preserved?""
"Yes, Your Honor. I've already exported the records and sent a copy to the department's evidence server.""
"Good.""
Voss laughed bitterly.
"You think you're clever, don't you?""
Reed looked at him.
"No, sir. I think someone should have been doing their job.""
The words hung in the air.
For the first time, I saw something change in the faces of the other deputies.
Cole stood straighter.
Martinez stopped looking at her desk.
Even the older deputy near the entrance moved closer.
They were listening.
Voss noticed.
"Everybody back to work!""
Nobody moved immediately.
Then Greene's phone rang.
He answered.
"Greene.""
A few seconds passed.
His expression changed.
"Are you certain?""
He listened again.
Then slowly lowered the phone.
I stepped toward him.
"What happened?""
"Your Honor, we located Deputy Mason.""
"Where?""
"At his residence.""
"Is he cooperating?""
Greene shook his head.
"No. He was found unconscious in his garage. He's being transported to the hospital.""
The room fell silent.
"Was he attacked?"" I asked.
"We don't know yet.""
"Did they find the vehicle?""
"Yes.""
"Where?""
Greene looked at the sheriff.
"Abandoned behind the old courthouse.""
Hale's face drained of color.
I remembered the handwritten code.
B-17.
The evidence locker beneath the old courthouse.
I turned toward him.
"Mr. Hale, does that location have anything to do with the missing murder evidence?""
He stared at me.
Then he whispered:
"You're too late.""
I stepped closer.
"What does that mean?""
He looked toward the sheriff.
Voss suddenly reached inside his jacket.
Greene's hand moved toward his weapon.
"Don't move!""
But Voss wasn't reaching for a gun.
He pulled out a small black phone.
Its screen was already open.
A message appeared.
*B-17 CLEARED. ORIGINAL DESTROYED.*
Voss stared at it.
His lips parted.
Then another message arrived.
*THE JUDGE MUST NEVER SEE WHAT'S INSIDE THE SECOND BOX.*
I looked at the screen.
"Second box?""
Hale took a step backward.
For the first time, the district attorney looked terrified enough to run.
May you like
And before anyone could stop him, he shouted:
"YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! MARCUS BELL WAS NEVER THE ONLY INNOCENT MAN WE PUT AWAY!""
