No Mercy

by Torbert, R. J. ;

  Madison looked at her older sister and asked, “Are you going to make me an aunt before I'm out?”

  Rachelle smiled as she squeezed her sister's hand.

  Madison began to tell Rachelle how much she loved the book she wrote about Port Jefferson. “I'm so proud of you, Rachelle; so much great history and information. They let us read, and they even sneak newspapers in to me so I know what's going on.”

  The hour was up so fast that no one noticed it was five minutes past the hour except the officers. They all knew who Madison Robinson was, and while they kept their personal opinions to themselves, they needed to show professionalism in the rules. A few extra minutes here and there for Madison was their way of silently letting her know they knew she wasn't a cold-blooded killer, but someone who was a masked vigilante that not only saved innocent lives, including Deborah's, but also millions of tax dollars that would have been spent in court cases. The police and correctional facility could never publicly show their support for her, but between trusted friends and co-workers they admitted they agreed with her and would express it if they had civilian clothes on instead of a uniform.

  As Rachelle and Deborah left the facility, it was almost 11:30 am, and Deborah told Rachelle she was treating her to lunch at one of her father's favorite places for steak. The Rendezvous Restaurant on Main Street in Riverhead had been famous in the area for years. William Lance found the place during a stop when he was running for town supervisor and had remained a loyal customer for the past twenty years, and always enjoyed the New York sirloin marinated steak. As Rachelle drove up to the little restaurant, she noticed it looked like a little dive bar. Her feelings were validated when they walked in. A bar to the left, about eight tables to the right, and another group of tables in a lower area reminded Rachelle of little Irish bars in the city. They had a chance to speak to the servers, who had worked there for over thirty years, including Janice, who had become friendly with William Lance over the years. Rachelle admitted she was not much of a meat eater, but it was one of the most enjoyable steaks she ever had.

  “The marinade is the reason,” Rachelle said as she put a small bite in her mouth.

  “I'll tell you a secret,” Deborah replied, “but you can't tell anyone!” Rachelle crossed her heart while she chewed, as Deborah continued, “You're right, the marinade is the secret, but my dad can only come here once a month because it gives him bad gas and no one can be around him for twenty-four hours.” Rachelle started choking on her food as she laughed so hard Deborah thought she would have to perform the Heimlich maneuver on her.

  Madison was back in her orange outfit, walking back to her section cell when she asked Officer Bay if she could stop by the church to pray. Putting her circumstances aside, Madison was always very respectful and polite to the officers, and they treated her the same way. They had gotten to know her a bit and read her story; particularly after they were informed she would be serving her entire time in Riverhead instead of being moved upstate. Madison was in just as good of shape as when she entered the jail eighteen months prior. At twenty-seven years of age her body was slim and toned from the years of being a dance instructor, and her workouts in the prison four times a week kept her in top physical condition. Officer Bay was thirty-four, single, 6'4” and was Madison's escort on Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays, as well as on alternate Sundays. He was what most young women called tall, dark, and handsome.

  The commissioner of corrections who gives directives and mandatory instructions to the facilities regarding all the prisoners informed the chief that Madison Robinson would never be alone while in or out of the building. Her security and schedule were so tight that the officers didn't know they would be escorting her through the underground tunnel to the courthouse until fifteen minutes beforehand. The officers were always available due to the “lockdown” policy. Once they started their shift, they were not allowed to leave the building until it was over. The facility needed to have all officers available and ready in case of an emergency. It was rare, but no chances were taken in case an officer or another inmate was in need. Officer Bay escorted Madison to the church, where she sat down in the back row, bowed her head, and prayed. Other female and male prisoners were in the first few rows paying no attention to the most famous vigilante in the United States. A priest was standing at the front talking to a few of them while a nun was in a small corner of the room speaking to a female inmate. Maddie sat in the back as Officer Bay stood about ten feet away against the back wall.

  Sergeant Donna Small, who was responsible for the section, stood next to him as they looked at Madison facing forward.

  “She wasn't scheduled to be here now; just be careful,” Small said.

  “I know,” Bay replied. “We were in the area, she asked politely, and I gave it to her.” Officer Small looked at him as he stared forward. She shook her head and spoke before she walked away: “We all feel the same way, John. Just be careful.”

  He knew what she meant. Keep cool, keep professional, and even though the human side of him liked her, the law could not accept she had taken matters into her own hands. Regardless, Officer John Bay was going to give her a few minutes here and there whenever he could. He politely tapped Madison on the shoulder after fifteen minutes and told her they needed to get back to her section. She got up, smiled, and began the walk to her cell with John following closely.

  She turned her head to Officer Bay as they turned the corner and said,

  “I don't bite.”

  He smiled as they approached the separate building cell for her. “Yes, I know,” he replied. “This I know.”

  The woman inmate turned her head to look at him and said, “I guess you would know that.”

  The drive back to Port Jefferson was fairly quick. Rachelle called on her speakerphone to be sure Paul took the dogs out for their walk and asked him if he could set the DVR for Suze Orman's show at 7:00 pm.

  “You're still into her?” Deborah asked.

  A smile came over Rachelle's face as she said, “More than ever. I never miss it.”

  Deborah laughed as she looked at her phone and saw a text from a phone number she did not recognize: You are still beautiful. She began to laugh as she told Rachelle someone had just sent a love note to the wrong number.

  Paul answered his cell with a “Hello Bud” and with no surprise apparent on his face started listening to his partner singing to him, but quickly interrupted him. “If you want me to help you move into your house next weekend, you better stop.” That did the trick. Bud was moving to the village after thirty years of living in Miller Place. He fell in love with the Henry Hallock house at 116 South Street. He first read about the house in Rachelle's book, The History of a Village Called Port Jefferson, and he promptly drove to the house, convinced the owner how interested he was, and after a walk-through and inspection of the house made an offer that couldn't be refused. The Henry Hallock house, according to the Port Jefferson Historical Society, was originally owned by Captain Henry Hallock, who built seven coastal schooners between 1855 and 1878. His grandson Albert became a noted local historian in the village. The economy was still tough, but he was able to sell his home on Parkside Drive and with the profit made from the house bought this beautiful quaint little home built in 1848. The tub in the bathroom was from 1890, and although there was much work to do to fix it up, Bud loved the history of the house and without admitting it, wanted to be closer to three of his favorite people: Paul, Rachelle, and Deborah.

  While Paul, Bud, Deborah, and Rachelle were already friends, the Face of Fear investigation made them a family. Once the investigation was completed and the news media found other news to exploit, the Suffolk County Police Department rewarded Detective Lieutenant Cronin and his detectives, Paul Powers and Bud Johnson, with a task force called Priority 1. The task force was directed by the chief of police as to which case would be given to them as a Priority 1. The task force consisted of
Officers Lynagh, Healey, Dugan, Franks, Chapman, and a new detective, Ellyn Baker. Kevin Cronin chose his team and brought his closest allies with him from the Face of Fear investigation. This included Sherry Walker, who decided after six months on the task force that it was time to possibly teach and look forward to starting a family. Enter Ellyn Baker, 27, tall, 5'8”, brunette, with blue-grey eyes that lit up rooms that already had the light on. Many throughout the precinct thought that Ellyn reminded them of the character Kate Beckett from TV's Castle program. The main difference was that Ellyn liked to walk around the Priority 1 area with her shoes off. At first Detective Lieutenant Cronin balked but soon gave up, as it added variety to his team of personalities.

  Even Bud once asked Ellyn about the shoeless thing, and she laughed with her reply: “I think better without my shoes. Sometimes I hold off going to the bathroom for an hour because I don't want to put my shoes back on.”

  Bud's face had that look of puzzlement, not sure if she was just messing with him or if she was a little crazy. He even thought about asking her why she would go to the trouble of putting on her shoes to go to the ladies' room but decided against it until he knew her better.

  The Priority 1 team did not rest on their success from the highly publicized case eighteen months prior. They had solved two murder cases, two cold cases, and four robbery investigations during the past year and a half. Priority 1 stood for more than just what case was most important at the time. It was looked upon as the top task force team and something to aspire to if you were a cop who wanted to further your career.

  The offices for the task force were in Yaphank headquarters, which now had a new correctional facility as their neighbor. Attorney Al Simmons had already inquired as to the possibility of moving Madison to the Yaphank facility to be fifteen minutes closer to Rachelle, but so far his request had not been approved by the DA's office and the sentencing judge. The Riverhead facility was becoming overcrowded to the point that bunk beds were on the outside walls of cells and as much as two hundred inmates were already transferred to other jails at a cost of $200 per day to the taxpayers. The Priority 1 task force utilized about four thousand square feet in a separate locked area of the building.

  Once Detective Lieutenant Cronin was promoted as head of Priority 1, he had provisions added that only authorized personnel could get into the area. This way there would be no “ears” and no Monday morning quarterbacks while he was working a case with his team. The only time there was outside interference was when the chief of police, the DA, and Kevin Cronin's old friend ADA John Ashley came into the Priority 1 unit to review the current case being worked on. During the past eighteen months there were a few periods of time when there was not a Priority 1 case assigned and Cronin had no problem lending out a few of the men to help out here and there.

  The relationship between Priority 1 and the media had become a strong one and something that the detective lieutenant was initially fond of. He realized, however, the need for the relationship after LI Pulse published his statements and interview, which escalated the solving of the famous Face of Fear case. He never forgot it and has remained available to this day when the magazine and Nada Marjanovich, the publisher and editor, requested it.

  Cronin stood up and saw Powers and Johnson at their desks. He couldn't believe a year and a half had gone by since the killing spree that left Police Officer Davis dead and six more killed at the hands of Madison Robinson wearing the blood-splattered Ghost Face mask. Yet most likely she saved the lives of Deborah, Rachelle, and Officer Sherry Walker. Former FBI agent Jason “Jack” O'Connor was now serving a life sentence at Bedford Hills Prison upstate, and his cohorts had been killed during an attempt to eliminate twelve-year-old Lindsey Wilkerson. All three were shot by Detective Powers and Officers Healey and Lynagh.

  The detective lieutenant believed no other squad could have saved more innocent lives than those he had on the case. Cronin was criticized by some for his manipulation of the investigation that put many people's lives in jeopardy, but those were subjective opinions. The outcome of the case ended with lives saved and the case solved.

  The team, especially, Johnson and Healey, had grown close to Lindsey Wilkerson but honored the request of her parents who wanted time to pass to where it was comfortable for them to slip out of their child's life. Lindsey, then a twelve-year-old with a photographic memory, was heavily traumatized by the home invasion. Her bodyguard or “protector,” as she called him, Officer Justin Healey was badly injured, and she stayed by his side at the hospital till sleep took over and her parents put their foot down by taking her home. The scene at Stony Brook Hospital looked like a war zone with Officer Dugan injured as well. Officer George Lynagh was there as well, holding a shotgun in the hallway the entire time Lindsey was at the hospital and wouldn't leave her side until they found Phil Smith dead in the storage barn on Morgan Lane the following morning. They were taking no chances on Lindsey at the hospital, but when it was over, the questions of who killed Phil Smith and how, and where the ransom money went to, were never answered.

  The team missed contact with Lindsey, but they agreed that the young girl deserved a chance to be a child as she entered her teenage years. However, it was Bud that held her close in his heart. The teasing, the trivia, and Lindsey being wise beyond her years were all part of why Bud Johnson became fond of her, and showed great affection for her. During his private time he had expressed desire in his prayers that he would see Lindsey again and requested of God that he be around to see the man she eventually married. He would smile at the thought and felt that God had a sense of humor.

  Four months after the case was closed, Bud received a package in the mail from Lindsey and he became teary-eyed as he pulled out a little book called Jesus Calling by Sara Young. Inside were devotions for every day of the year. He never started his day without reading the daily passage from that day. Lindsey had signed the first page with the inscription,

  For Bud, the presence of God is always with you. When things start to overshadow your thoughts, focus on the promises of the Lord. You are always in my thoughts and prayers. Love, Lindsey.

  Bud treasured the book and kept it on his desk and always took it with him when he would be out of the office for a few days. He never mentioned it, but it was something Paul noticed.

  Cronin's thoughts were interrupted by Gina, his assistant, asking him to review his schedule. Gina had become so invaluable to the detective lieutenant that she not only maintained the schedules of his team, but helped him with his personal schedule as well. She was, simply put, the “director” of the Priority 1 Task Force. She knew where everyone was at all times.

  Detective Powers was still at his desk reading the book aloud that Rachelle wrote. He was interested in the Henry Hallock house that Bud was moving into, and began to get lost in Rachelle's writing.

  “Hey, my partner,” Bud yelled, “you don't have to read aloud to me. I looked at the house because of the book.”

  Paul didn't even realize he was speaking but quickly started reading to himself. After a few minutes of reading he looked up at Bud and said,

  “You know, I'm surprised, you of all people are moving into a house built in 1848. I bet the place is haunted. Did you ask if anybody died in the house?” Bud dropped his pen as he stared back at Paul.

  “OK, OK, let's hear it; give me your best shot,” he said as he leaned back on his chair.

  Paul leaned forward. “No, I'm serious; someone as nervous as you buys this old rickety house with tubs from the 1800s and tires in the basement from the '50s. You don't think there are ghosts in the house?”

  He had Bud's attention, who now leaned forward and asked,

  “How did you know about the tires in the basement?”

  Paul smiled and replied, “You took a nap last week and you were talking out loud.” Paul got up to go to the men's room but made it a point to say one more thing as he walked by Bud: “Oo
h, the ghosts of Port Jefferson love that house,” and he raised his hands and shook them in the air.

  Bud stood up and asked, “You don't really think the place is haunted do you?”

  Paul acted like he didn't hear Bud as he turned the corner, but he had a big smile on his face. Bud sat at his desk as he looked at the photos he had placed there, one of his mother who had passed away and one of Lindsey with her dog, Monty, and one of Deborah. A small bowl of gummy bears in small packets was also a mainstay on his desk. He picked up the book Rachelle wrote that included the house he bought and tried to convince himself the place was not haunted. “Nah,” he said to himself as he dropped the book back on Paul's desk.

  SEPTEMBER 28

  4:00 PM

  Al Simmons had been waiting for Madison for about ten minutes in the attorney room when she was let in by Officer Bay. “Thank you,” she said to the officer as he closed the door to give them privacy. She gave her attorney a hug as he asked her how she was being treated. “They treat me well, as always, Al,” she replied. “Thank you for coming every couple weeks, but I understand you are busy. My sentence is for the next five to six years; it won't change,” she said with a forced grin on her face.

  Al Simmons took her hand. “You are my client, and I will be here every couple weeks. One, to give you a chance to get out of your cell; two, I want the officers to see you are being looked after; and three, for you to know that many of us support you.”

  Maddie bowed her head and looked up again at her attorney. “You never told me who compensated you for all this . . . the trial, the work.”

  He smiled at her as he replied, “If I knew who, I don't think they would want me to tell you anyway.” Al Simmons had his feelings about the matter. Someone had left $300,000 in his house to handle her case, with a note telling him to use discretion. He never spoke about it with anyone except Madison and did a nice spin job with Judge Green before the trial started. Every time he thought about his confrontation with the judge he couldn't help but laugh.