Rules of the Game

by Bruce Fitzpatrick

  ********

  No sooner had Adrian left than Ruffino had a second visitor. Billy Ray Smith, once a small time thief who had made the big time when he accidentally pulled a bank robbery with a fake gun and had run out of the bank empty handed. In his attempt to get away, he jumped in the first car he saw, failing to see the sleeping child in the rear car seat. When police took pursuit, Billy Ray rolled the car over an embankment into a river. Billy Ray had survived, the child had not. Had it been up to the community, they'd have saved the government the expense of housing Billy Ray for the next twenty-five years.

  He went through the routine of asking for Ruffino, informing Tony Gioia that he was bringing the old man information he'd been asked to pass on about Adrian. Had Adrian not just departed, Ruffino might have turned Billy Ray away. But Adrian's information had piqued Ruffino's interest. As a result, Billy Ray's request to meet with the old man did, too.

  After being searched by Tony Gioia, Billy Ray was led inside, after which he relayed what he'd heard about Adrian being given orders to kill him. Even for a mob boss, this was getting complicated. And Ruffino didn't like complications.

  "So, who is it that wants me dead?" asked Ruffino.

  Billy Ray tried hard to remember the name he'd been fed. "I think...I think it was Bultaco. Yeah, Angelus Bultaco."

  "You mean Angelo Bultaco?" asked Ruffino. How could this guy have known about the connection between Adrian and Angelo, if there wasn't something to it? Unless he'd been coached...

  "Yeah, that's it," answered, Billy Ray. "Angelo Bultaco."

  "You know these things for sure?" Ruffino asked.

  "That's what I was told. Cabraal takes care of you, and he has a lot of money waiting for him when he gets out. I heard his wife already got some of it up front."

  Ruffino regarded Billy Ray Smith for a long time. That would be in keeping with the way it was done. Yet...

  Ruffino decided to pursue the matter further. "The guy who said Cabraal's gonna kill me, why's he so interested in me?"

  "He expects you to do him a favor in return."

  "I see. And what's in it for you, my friend?"

  "Same thing, a favor for a favor. Only I get mine from him."

  "Now for the interesting part," said Ruffino. And this was what he'd been working toward from the beginning. "Who's 'him'?"

  Billy Ray began to fidget. "Come on, Mr. Ruffino, I can't do that. You know how it is."

  Carmine Ruffino leaned close to Billy Ray, and wagged his finger before Billy Ray's face. "No, see, I don't know how it is. What I know is that you're going to tell me, or my friend out there in the doorway is gonna spend some time with you. On the street he was known as 'The Chiropractor' because he gave people permanent neck adjustments. Maybe you'd like one?"

  Billy Ray's discomfort was obvious. This wasn't supposed to happen. He’d been instructed to deliver the message and leave. No one had coached him on how Ruffino might react.

  "Come on, Mister Ruffino," he pleaded, "Gimme a break, I'm just doing someone a favor."

  Ruffino's impatience was growing. "Pal, do yourself a favor. Tell me where you got your information. Do it while your neck still works!"

  Billy Ray began to panic. He'd really thought he was doing himself a favor. But it wasn't worth dying for. "You got to do me a favor, Mister Ruffino. Promise me you’ll never say I told you."

  "Yeah, right, Scout's Honor. Now spit it out!"

  Ready to soil himself, Billy Ray blurted, "It was Billings."

  Ruffino hadn't expected this, yet Adrian had said there might be something in the air. Even so, this didn't make sense.

  "The warden? I got nothin' he wants."

  "Yes, you do. You've got connections. He's got a shot at making some kind of move, and he thinks you can help him with people you know in Washington."

  Ruffino stared at him. "What did you say your name was?"

  "Billy Ray Smith."

  "Well, Billy Ray Smith, you tell your pal that you gave me the message, and that I'm thinkin' it over. And tell him I'm real grateful, too. Wait till he sees how grateful I can be."

  "Thanks, Mister Ruffino. Glad to help out."

  Ruffino stood up and shook Billy Ray's hand. "Hey, maybe we'll meet again."

  After Billy Ray had gone, Ruffino called Massaglia and Gioia into his cell. To Gioia, he said. "Follow that kid. See where he goes, and where he lives."

  To Massaglia, "Two guys with opposite stories. One of 'em has to be lying. Go find Cabraal. When you find him, here's what I want you to do..."

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Adrian had learned early on how suddenly things could happen behind the walls. It wasn't just a warehouse where people languished. There was always something to think about. Those were his thoughts when they paged him over the P.A. system later that night. "Adrian Cabraal to the law library. Cabraal to the library."

  What was this, he wondered. And what did the law library want with him at this time of night...unless they were checking inmate records for accuracy in preparation for the parole hearings. The library was where they were held. Yet, it was eight o'clock, and the law library should have been closed. This wasn't normal for a place that thrived on rigid schedules. Because of that, he was already suspicious before he left.

  Faces come and faces go on the block. Usually they're familiar faces, and everyone knew which ones were which, and where they belonged. So when he saw a face that belonged on Carmine Ruffino's tier, it caught his attention right away. The face lounging idly at the end of his tier was familiar, and it belonged to a man he knew was capable of killing. It belonged to the man usually stationed outside Carmine Ruffino's cell. It belonged to Joey Massaglia.

  When Adrian glanced at him Massaglia casually looked away. After taking a few steps, Adrian chanced a second glance. What he saw alarmed him. Massaglia wasn't at the end of the tier anymore. He was following him, matching him step for step in a place with nowhere to hide. His nerves became taut, and he had the urge to dash for his life. But where, to Billings and Atkins, who wanted him dead? Where do you go in a penitentiary, when both sides tell you you're a dead man, and your entire world has been reduced to a handful of buildings encased within thirty-seven foot walls?

  He knew of one particular place on the way to the law library that was remote and usually quiet. He was tempted to wait there in a darkened part of the corridor until his man caught up to him; then he'd climb all over him, kill him quick if that's what it took. He knew a dozen techniques that would do it in less than five seconds. But then what? Go back to Carmine Ruffino and ask him why he’s sent Joey Massaglia to kill him? And if someone saw him kill Massaglia, he'd pick up that life sentence he was so afraid of.

  Getting killed wasn't the question anymore. The question now was, which side would do it. At the moment, it appeared the Ruffino side had taken the initiative. Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide...

  As he approached a dimly lit section of corridor, he noticed that it was darker than usual. Taking a closer look, he realized that two of the overheads were out where the corridor took a ninety-degree turn. He made his decision.

  He slowed his pace, speculating how he might use the opportunity to catch his pursuer in the darkness, and then take him out. After that, he'd skip going to the law library, and head straight to Ruffino's cell for a little heart-to-heart. If anyone tried barring him this time, he'd put that guy down, too. After that, he'd have Ruffino to himself, with no one to interfere.

  He decided to take his chances with Massaglia in the shadows; put him away quick, then make it to the old man's cell before they found him. When they did, all hell would break loose and the place would go into lock down. He'd leave Massaglia in the broom closet, in hope of buying time. It was two hours before the next count, so it would be at least that long before Massaglia would be missed. By then, he and Ruffino would hopefully have made their peace. He hated the prospect of these things, but he’d done nothing wrong and his family came ahead of everyone.


  Anxious to be done with it he rounded the corner, intent on finding the right hiding place. Instead, he found Bobby Joe Weiss and Flatline hiding in the darkness, waiting for him with knives. If he had not made a wide turn, Weiss' initial slash would have ripped his abdomen open. Instead, his instinctive sidestep put enough distance between him and his attacker that his stomach was cut, but not deeply.

  Flatline crouched low and moved in quickly, forcing Adrian’s undivided attention. He was wiry, light on his feet and quick with his hands. Adrian would have preferred to wait for him to attack, but the door to the broom closet suddenly opened, and Benton Fulmer entered the corridor, also armed. Adrian kept his back to the wall and angled toward the corner, putting Weiss and Flatline on his left and Benton Fulmer on his right.

  "Imagine that, Cabraal?” said Fulmer. “You and me, all alone. Looks like our time has finally come."

  Adrian glanced at Flatline and Weiss. "This is your idea of all alone? You and your two pals?"

  "No one ever said life was fair."

  "You know, Fulmer, I'm one of those live and let live kind of guys. But when someone like you comes along and won't give me any choice, I think whatever happens to you is your fault, no matter what that might be."

  Fulmer slowly eased away from the broom closet. "I think it’s kind of interesting that I’m talking to you right now, but in thirty seconds you’re going to be a dead body lying on the floor, having bled out your last words. Good-bye, bitch." There was no mistaking their intent. They were there to kill him. Whether they were in Billings' back pocket or had heard the page and simply used it to their advantage, he didn't know. What mattered now was trying not to die at their hands.

  Something his martial arts instructor had told him in Okinawa came back to him: when confronted by more than one opponent and fighting them is unavoidable, become the attacker. Hit them first; hit them hard; and hit them with a technique they’ve never seen before. It will steal their courage, and will give you a momentary advantage. In this moment, if used properly, you will greatly lower the odds against you.

  Fulmer was the biggest. Adrian gambled that he would also be the slowest; Adrian also gauged he was also the confidence factor for Weiss and Flatline. Because of that, he moved on Fulmer, took a mild slash across his forearm, but managed to deliver a solid kick to Fulmer's knee. He rightly reckoned that most people are conditioned to defending themselves from the waist up, but rarely beneath, and Fulmer never saw the move coming until after his knee popped.

  His companions, surprised and suddenly uncertain, hesitated after Adrian delivered the kick. When Fulmer screamed and dropped to the floor, Weiss and Flatline did the natural thing; they paused and watched.

  Adrian used that small window to determine that Flatline was the more dangerous of the two, and would therefore have to be the next to go. He quickly dropped to a crouch, slid sideways, and drove his foot into Flatline's chest, knocking him back against the wall. Unfortunately, his inability to practice his craft openly had slightly eroded his skills. It hadn't been a clean kick, and had left him in an awkward position. A skilled knife fighter, Flatline moved in while he was off balance, slashing him across his chest. Adrian struggled to defend himself, but couldn't regain his footing in time to ward off a second thrust, also aimed at his chest. Knowing what was coming, Adrian braced himself for the worst. It appeared Flatline and Weiss had him.

  Flatline was making his thrust when his arm stopped in mid-motion with a hand clamped around his wrist. Another arm wrapped around his throat, lifting him off his feet. His knife dropped to the floor, then the powerful hand that had held his arm moved to his chin and clamped his jaw. There was a twist, a yank, and a crunch as his head snapped to one side. His body then fell limp.

  After dropping him, the man who had done it stepped away. As he did, Bobby Joe Weiss tried running past him. A short punch to the solar plexus doubled him over, and he dropped to the floor gasping for air. The man who had punched him bent over, and then snapped his neck, too. As he moved toward Benton Fulmer, Fulmer got to his feet and hastily hobbled off in the opposite direction.

  Just before he walked off, Joey Massaglia said, "Mr. Ruffino says thanks." All Adrian could do was stand there, staring after Massaglia as he drifted back into the shadows.

  By the time Adrian got back to his cell the adrenaline rush had worn off and he was shaking. He'd draped himself in a dirty blanket he'd retrieved from a clothes hamper outside the laundry. Seeing him as such, Nazareth gave him an odd look when he entered the cell. But the look quickly changed to concern when Adrian pulled the blanket away from himself. Blood was smeared over his forearm, chest and stomach, and his shirt was drenched with it.

  "Damn, boy! What happened?" The old man asked.

  "That page to the law library was a setup. Fulmer and his pals were waiting for me." He then soaked a face cloth and began ministering his wounds.

  "Think it had anything to do with Carmine Ruffino?"

  "Had to be Billings. Without him they couldn’t have paged me."

  "Know which side you're on now?"

  "Yeah, now that I know Billings intends to kill me."

  ********

  If Adrian had any doubts about who tipped off Fulmer, those doubts were erased when two guards came to his cell, handcuffed him and led him to Jimmy Atkins' office in the middle of the lock down. Lock downs confined everyone to their cells during investigations, riots or cooling-off periods. It was the quickest way to bring the institution back under control, and rarely was anyone let out until it was over.

  Atkins looked angry. Adrian decided not to provoke him, especially since Atkins had already worked him over once.

  When they were alone, he came right to the point. "Heard you had a real interesting trip to the law library tonight, Cabraal. Tell me about it."

  "Trip to the law library? I didn't go to the law library." He was glad he’d been able to wash off the blood and put on a clean long sleeved shirt before they’d come to get him. Now he hoped Atkins wouldn’t ask him to remove it.

  "You were paged just before those boys got their necks broke." So there it was, Benton Fulmer had gone on Atkins' list. No wonder Fulmer had come after him without provocation. He'd done it on orders, and Fulmer's two flunkies had gotten their tickets punched as a result of it. Atkins was in a rage. His face was burgundy. If ever he was dangerous, it was then. Adrian figured his patience was about as long as his dick.

  "Hey, I don’t know about any broken necks. I was in my house all night. I must have slept through the page."

  "You saying you didn't answer that page?"

  "I guess not. Good thing, otherwise, that could have been me with the broken neck."

  Atkins turned a darker shade of red. He seemed to teeter back and forth for a moment. Adrian wondered if he was about to have a stroke.

  Finally, in a soft tone that spoke a lot more than words, he said, "Okay, Cabraal, we'll chalk one up for your side. I don't know what happened down there, but your luck won't hold forever. Have the officers take you back."

  ********

  It was Saturday, and he was due to visit with Jennifer and Andy. He didn't look forward to seeing her today, because he felt something bad was in the air and he didn't want her and Andy to somehow get caught up in it. Everything had been too quiet. He hadn't heard any more from Billings or Atkins, or from Benton Fulmer. He considered that ominous. They had failed once; what would they try next time? And when? Nothing lay dead forever in the penitentiary -- unless it was a body. More than ever, he was grateful he hadn't said anything to anyone regarding the Carmine Ruffino tape he'd hidden. At the same time, he was glad he hadn't destroyed it, either. His thoughts were interrupted when they paged him to the Visiting Room.

  He kept a close watch along the way, even though he doubted they'd try anything in the middle of the afternoon. Things were busy on the weekends, and much too risky.

  As he entered the VR after dressing from his usual strip-search, he sensed restlessness i
n Jennifer. She seemed fidgety and distant, as though preoccupied. The second sign – and much more telling: Andy wasn't with her. She was alone.

  She sat down at the partition, directly across from him. He tried to put a lighter spin on their visit, especially with her looking as beautiful as she did. "How many traffic accidents you cause walking around looking like that?" he asked.

  "None that were my fault," she answered. He thought he saw a blush pass over her face. One point for him.

  "When can we visit without any glass between us?" she asked.

  "Never. They're afraid we might 'copulate' and have criminally insane children. Speaking of children, where's Andy?"

  She hesitated, then, "He's back home with my parents. He's the only grandchild they have, so they spend lots of time spoiling him. It makes it easier for me to settle into school life." She paused a moment, then, "How long before you see the parole board?"

  "A couple of weeks. Why?" He sensed that something was still bothering her.

  "Everything okay?” she asked. “Something happen?"

  More warning signals, bad ones. She wouldn't ask things like that just to pass the time.

  "Yeah, why?What’s going on?"

  "Nothing, I was just wondering, that's all."

  "I know you better than that. Something's on your mind. You don't look right, you don't sound right, you look worried. That tells me something's wrong, baby. What is it?"

  "Nothing, Adrian. It's nothing."

  He leaned close to the glass. "Don't do this to me, Jen. Don't leave me hanging. I know better, and so do you. Come on, give it up."

  Jennifer sighed, and nodded. "I feel like I've been followed for the past week. And sometimes I see a blue truck parked near my apartment at night with someone sitting in it. They never go anywhere; they just sit. It's probably nothing, but it makes me nervous just the same."