The moment has arrived. It's only a matter of time before they come for me. I've been waiting for this moment for what feels like forever. I was so excited that I couldn't sleep at all last night. Finally, after ten long years, I will have the opportunity to speak, and I know that I will be listened to. They won't have any other option but to hear me out.

It’s funny how I couldn’t wait to leave this hell pit, but I stayed in here for longer, with my own free will, just to make a statement. I couldn’t resist telling them what I truly think of this whole, stupid circus.  I will, soon enough. 

In my tiny cell, I paced impatiently back and forth. What's taking them so long? I glanced at my watch and realized there are five more minutes to go. I sighed, sat down on the edge of my bed, and gazed at the cell around me. 

I know every corner of this dark cage all too well. The stained, gray walls, the uncomfortable, metal bed, the cold, corroded steel gate, the leaking sink. This damned cage took away the best years of my life and the worst thing is, for a while, I thought I belonged to it. I thought I deserved it all.

For a moment, I even began to like this cage. I’m now ashamed, just thinking about it. This used to be my safe space, where I read books and wrote my diaries. It was the perfect way to escape my reality, and pretend like there is nobody else here but me. But since I learned the truth, it became my worst tormentor. It became the incarnation of every injustice bestowed upon me. I can’t wait to break free of these walls.

At last, I could hear the footsteps of the guards, coming to relieve me from my raging thoughts. Guard Thomas was leading them, with a huge smile on his face. He’s a good man. Had my back when I needed it. He looks so happy for me, getting a chance to win my freedom back. Had we met in different circumstances, I would’ve been glad to call him a good friend.

“Chris! I see you got ready early for your big day. I have to say, I’m very excited for your release. More than I've ever been during my service in this damned hole. You’re a decent man, Chris, and you have earned it.”

A big day indeed. Bigger than anything you can imagine, Thomas. 

I replied to him in a conclusive manner, so that this conversation would end right there. I didn’t have much patience left. After a quick body search for security, I was being led through the corridors of the prison to the big hall, where my parole hearing was scheduled to take place.

To the naked eye, today is not so different from my first day here. Back then, I was also being escorted in the same way. However, while the outside appearance is largely the same, the man inside is nothing like he used to be. 

I always imagined these walls condemning me. Calling me a murderer. I used to walk among them with guilt and self-contempt. But now, I know, just like everyone else, that these walls were lying to me. I no longer have shame or regret, only rage and hate.

We finally arrived at a large hall. One seat for me and a comically large table in front of three giant chairs for the committee members. Lots of blinding lights shining from the ceiling. 

Ten years here and I didn’t know, till now, that such a hall existed! Guess the elegant suits need a suitable place to meet with us, miserable souls, that isn’t too prison-like. They can’t taint themselves by meeting us in our natural habitat, can they? 

I was seated and secured in the middle of the hall, and right in front of the parole board committee. What an absolute joke! Three people, who look like they never suffered a day in their lives, will decide if I deserve freedom or not. And based on what? Some lifeless documents, none of which was written by me! 

How could they know who I am? How could they understand how I came to be? They are absolutely clueless, and they are supposed to judge me? What a broken system! 

I’m glad I don’t need their freedom charity anymore.

“Welcome to your parole hearing, Mr. Jacobs. I have to say, your file looks great. Shows real reform and dedication to being a better person. We will discuss it with you shortly, but I have a good feeling about today.”

HAHAHA reform and dedication for sure. Despite all my anger, I couldn’t help but to grin at the irony of this sentence. The reform one would get here is not much different than the training a dog gets, before being given to an owner. I don’t need to listen to this ridiculousness, especially coming from these people. That’s why I raised my hands and hastily asked “Can we begin with my personal statement?”

The parole guy seemed shocked. I guess he’s used to inmates acting submissively and waiting for his orders. Not this one. Not anymore. He consulted his two colleagues and smiled at me as he allowed me to speak with a hand gesture. 

I stood up, took a deep breath, and spoke my mind.

*******

On that Friday afternoon, the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn, New York City, was a real beehive. Everyone was moving frantically in all directions, doing all kinds of things. It was chaotic.

Correctional officers, the PR friendly name for prison guards, were doing checks on inmates, yelling at them left and right, and searching every inch of their cells. The administrative team ran everywhere, carrying files and documents, from one place to another. Every movement was dripping with stress and panic. It was clear, something big happened today.

Through the chaos, the footsteps of a confident man were heard. He moved along the lengthy corridors of the prison. Calmly and orderly, unlike everyone else at the prison. He was clearly an outsider. 

He was in his early thirties, with messy blond hair, green eyes, and a carelessly-shaved beard, which matched the color of his hair. He was average height, but compensated for it with a well built body, and a dominant posture. His small nose and eyes almost didn’t match his large chin. He wore a long black coat over a dark blue suit and tie.

He maintained his walking speed, with complete disregard for the apparent chaos going on around him. He seemed to be a man on a mission, although he didn’t look excited to be where he was. Shortly after, he stopped at the door to the prison’s warden office.

“Detective Jonathan Milton. Precinct 66. The warden expects me.”

After checking his police badge, the guard allowed detective Milton to enter the warden’s office, who quickly got up to welcome  his guest “Good you’ve arrived so soon, detective. I was getting anxious that I didn’t communicate the urgency of the matter well to your chief. The situation we have is…time critical, if I might say. I’m warden James. The man in charge of this correctional facility.”

After the two men exchanged a firm handshake, Jonathan made his way to his designated seat. He took a moment to survey his surroundings, noting the sparse yet functional furnishings and equipment present in the warden's office. With a sense of curiosity, he shifted his attention to the warden himself, trying to read what kind of man he is.

The warden was a black man in his late fifties. He had a fully shaved head and beard, except for some white hairs on the sides of his head, and wore a bland police uniform. He gave the impression of a man who dedicated his whole life to his job and didn’t want to waste time on anything, especially appearances. This time-criticality claim is probably nothing. Men who are obsessed with their jobs always think everything is critical. Detective Milton hoped his time wouldn’t be wasted.

“I don’t know about the urgency level, warden. To be honest, I still don’t know why I’ve been called here. The chief didn’t provide me with much detail, but usual prison murders don’t need any detective work at all. Everything is always as clear as day. The killer, the motive, the murder weapon. Nobody can hide secrets in such a highly monitored environment. Yet, I’m here. May I know the reason?”

“You're not here for a prison murder, detective. In fact, no murder took place yet, as far as we know.”

Jonathan raised his eyebrows in shock and asked “What? If there was no homicide committed, why was the homicide division summoned? What is exactly the situation here?”

“The situation here is a prison escape. This morning, one of our inmates has…”

Jonathan stood up and interrupted angrily “I’m sorry, warden. This isn’t our specialty. You’ve called the wrong number. Now, I need to go and tend to more important cases.”

“Sit down, detective.” the warden firmly demanded with the confidence of a man who’s never been disobeyed “You haven't heard anything yet. The situation involves a homicide. One that needs to be stopped before it happens.”

Detective Milton stopped in his tracks, and slowly sat back down. His attention was successfully recaptured by the warden “Now that sounds more interesting. Do you care to elaborate more, warden?”

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James closed his eyes for a few seconds, recalling the  events in his head. He opened them again and proceeded to explain. “This morning, one of our inmates, who is serving a fifteen year sentence for a first degree manslaughter crime, has escaped the facility.”

“How did he escape? This prison is one of the most secure in the state!”

“Yes, indeed. But when you spend enough time in a place, you slowly build up knowledge of how it works. He’s been here for ten years already. Three years longer than I have” Warden James stood up and walked to the window behind him, overlooking the prison’s yard, observing his crumbling kingdom for a minute, before returning to his chair. Jonathan stared at him impatiently the whole time.

“Previously, he worked in the infirmary. We believe he was able to steal some pills that induce vomiting and nausea. A few months ago, he was transferred to work in the kitchen upon his request. This morning, he inserted the pills in some of the breakfast meals. 

Obviously, a dozen or more prisoners falling sick at the same moment has created turmoil, which he took advantage of to get into the grocery delivery car before it left. With the confusion and panic that swept over the prison, the car wasn't searched properly by the guards. By the time we found out he was missing, it was already too late.”

Jonathan nodded and said “I see. Very clever. How long was he working in the infirmary?”

“Almost two years. We usually rotate every few months, so no prisoner would get too comfortable in one place. However, the infirmary is a very sensitive position, because of the drugs, and we only assign the inmates with the best record there, and keep them for a long time. His record was perfect.”

Jonathan sarcastically noted “Not that perfect anymore”

The warden swallowed the comment and managed to keep his anger inside. How ridiculous is it to be judged by a man, who is half his age and experience! If he didn’t need him, he would have kicked him out already.

“And what reason did he give to leave the infirmary and move to the kitchen?”

“He claimed the infirmary caused him to move less and that he was getting too lazy. He also said that he has had enough, putting up with the sick prisoners and their disgusting symptoms for two years.”

Detective Milton sat back and started scratching his chin. He was in deep thought. The warden respected the silence, until Jonathan broke it with another question “What about the expected murder? How did you learn about it?”

“When we searched his cell, we found a note. He was very brief and precise.”

Warden James opened the drawer on his left, grabbed a piece of paper, and handed it to the detective.

Jonathan looked at the note and read it aloud “I’ll be back once again. This time, for a murder I did commit. Keep my cell warm for me.”

“It’s sad. In this place, you rarely see any men who were really reformed. Chris was one of those good ones. Never got into a minor quarrel with a guard or a fellow inmate. He read dozens of books, finished his education, and worked hard to earn respect. That’s why we were all excited for his parole hearing. I helped him fill the paperwork myself.”

Jonathan was astounded “He was going to be released on parole? This doesn’t make any sense!”

“He was on the path to getting released, but he ruined it. He went to his parole hearing, and started ranting about how he’s innocent, and how he was framed and the broken system used him as a sacrificial lamb. He kept getting louder and louder, until he was eventually sent away. The parole denial was inevitable. We didn’t know why this happened, and he didn’t want to talk to anyone about it. We guessed it was fear of freedom, and requested a psychiatric evaluation, hoping we can get him another parole hearing, after he gets better. He escaped before any of this could happen.”

Milton nodded and stood up “I see. I need a copy of his file. Everything you have on him and his case. Please, have it sent to me at his cell.”

The warden asked in doubt “But why? We already searched every inch of it. There was nothing there but this note.”

Milton ignored the question “Thank you, warden. This is the most interesting case I have had for a while. I’ll ask your guard to take me to the cell.”

Warden James watched as the detective exited his office and shut the door. He then lowered himself onto his chair, retrieved his police badge from his pocket, and gazed at it while contemplating the destruction of his career happening right before his very eyes.

*******

In just a matter of minutes, Jonathan found himself standing right in the center of the fugitive's cell. Upon taking a quick glance around, he couldn't spot anything out of the ordinary. There were a few books lying on the stand beside the bed, while some used personal hygiene products were sitting by the sink. Nothing seemed to be suspicious or misplaced at all.

He laid on the bed, his head resting on a firm pillow, gazing up at the ceiling. He was pondering the thoughts of a man who had spent a decade in this room. Why did he flee after being here for so long? And why did he sabotage his chance at a parole hearing? Surely, it would have been less dangerous to leave through proper channels. Could it be that revenge was his driving force? But who was the target of his vendetta?

He started imagining spending a long streak of lonely, dark nights here in this cell. Days going by, taking the best years of someone’s life. Frustrating, horrifying, humiliating, shameful, a huge psychological burden that only few can survive. Maybe the fugitive finally broke under all this pressure. But, who does he want to murder? He claimed he was innocent, why become a killer now?

Due to the tight space in the cell, Milton started to feel he can’t breathe. He sat upright on the bed. “Well, I have to at least give him credit for not suffocating in this tiny box.”

A big pile of books, stacked on top of each other on the side table, grabbed his attention next. He checked them one by one, throwing them on the bed next to him, as he quickly scanned them “Fiction, history, law, politics, entertainment magazine. No particular taste. Seems like just a way to kill time. Nothing in common between these books.” Using his phone, he took photos of the cell and everything in it.

At the same moment, a guard came and handed Milton the prisoner’s file. He opened it and started reading the first page. 

Christofer Jacobs, African American, tall and quite slim from his photos, aged twenty nine, charged and convicted of first degree manslaughter, which he admitted to doing, at the age of nineteen. A fifteen year sentence was given, of which he already served ten.

His victim was a girl he picked up in a bar, Rebecca Jackson. In the morning, the police got an anonymous tip from someone that heard sounds of a fight coming from her apartment at night. They broke in to find him asleep in her bed and some of the girl’s blood scattered on the apartment’s floor.

He was arrested on the spot and interrogated. The young man was terrified and claimed to not know what happened. He was too drunk, and he thought he’d have a fun time with this girl, but he doesn’t remember much after they arrived at her place. 

The cameras at the bar where they met showed them leaving together. Her blood was found on the bed and in the hallway and it looked consistent with a body being dragged to the outside. That was all the evidence the police needed.

After long hours under interrogation, the officers got him to confess the crime. But they couldn’t get him to show them where the body was. He was taken to court nevertheless. He pled guilty, hoping for a reduced sentence, which he didn’t get. This prison cell has been his home ever since.

Milton stared at Chris’s photos. He was too young. He looked like he didn’t know what was going on, even while his mugshots were being taken. Under the living relatives section, there was only his mother, but he fled her house when he was eighteen. She didn’t know anything about him for a full year before the murder allegedly took place.

Jonathan looked up from the file. Why did Christofer confess back then and decide to declare his innocence after all those years? What changed?

He closed the file and took it with him as he left the cell. He had already made up his mind. This was going to be his case. 

He walked through the prison’s hallways again, but this time, he had a big smile on his face, as he found something he’s been seeking for months. He got into his car and drove back to the precinct.

As soon as detective Milton arrived in precinct 66, he headed directly to the chief’s office. Chief Albert Willis was in his mid fifties, the color gray has conquered the majority of his hair. He had a big belly, burdened by all the fat that his reduced metabolism allowed inside his body, since he turned thirty. He was old, but he still had strength that showed in his face.

Chief Willis welcomed the return of his top detective with a smile. “Welcome back, Jon. So, what’s the news? What’s the big case warden James needed my best brain for? He sounded too anxious for a regular prisoner bathroom stabbing.”

“Indeed, It's quite an interesting case, Al. A convict decides to sabotage his own parole hearing, which was a guaranteed freedom card, decides to escape instead, and leaves a note that he’s going to kill someone.”

“Oh that’s very unusual. Even if he intended to commit the murder before the hearing, why waste this chance to get out of jail and instead opt for this unguaranteed escape attempt? I see now why my old friend, warden James, needed the extra brain. It’s a puzzle indeed.”

“Yes, it’s very mysterious. Although, I have the chance to stop this murder from ever happening, unlike our usual reactive process.  It’s the most interesting case I ever had.”

“Amazing! That was exactly the reason I came in here. An exciting new case. So, when do we start?”

Both men turned to the source of the sound. It was none other than detective Jake Fisher, standing at the door of the chief’s office. 

He was one of Jonathan’s colleagues. A tall man with pale skin, and dark brown hair, that didn’t fully cover the front of his head. He was in his late thirties, had a goatee beard, and wore square glasses that made him look kind of goofy.

“We aren’t starting anything, Jake. I’m working on this case by myself as I always do.” Jonathan coldly replied.

Chief Willis expected this answer and quickly jumped in “Jon, this case is a race against the clock. We need to find this fugitive before he commits the murder. Jake’s help will ensure things go faster. You also need to be more of a team player for your next evaluation. The last one was too negative in this area, and I hate to see you wasting opportunities you deserve because of your loner attitude.”

Jonathan objected “Actually, Jake’s supposed help will only slow me down. I will need hours just to explain the story, and that’s precious time I don’t have. Then, I’ll have to tone down my working speed, so that he can catch up.”

“Are you calling me stupid? How dare you!”

Jonathan completely ignored Jake’s angry objection and continued. “As for team effort, I don’t mind him putting his name as a co-author of the report I’ll write, after I solve this case, if he so chooses.”

Jake angrily shouted “I know what you’re trying to do, Jon. You are taking over all high profile cases we get, so you can build up a strong case record fast, and take Al’s job, when he retires. This isn’t going to happen. Nobody deserves this job more than me, and I won’t allow you to hijack my career. I’ve been in this precinct long before you, kid.”

Jonathan smirked. “I’m not interested in anyone’s job. I’m looking for a case that is worthy of my skills, and I finally found one. I don’t need to share this with you or anyone. As for your career, I don’t give a damn what happens to it.”

He then turned to his boss and added “I will be at my desk, going through the fugitive’s file. I don’t need any partners on this, Al. I promise you the same great results you’ve always gotten from me. Trust me on this one.”

Without waiting for an answer, Jonathan headed to his desk, leaving behind a furious colleague, and a disappointed boss. Jake turned to the chief, who decided to take the lead “You still have an ongoing case I believe, Jake. The murder of that shop owner, Right? You finish that work and afterwards, you can join this new case, if it’s not solved by then.”

“You know I already got everything figured out. We only need the lab’s report and we’ll have our case built against his nephew, whom I already arrested. My case is almost closed and I should join this one now.”

“So you have a suspect but no motive or incriminating evidence? How is that closed? Almost closed isn’t the same thing as closed. Our prescient has a great track record, and I don’t want to jeopardize it by having you distracted between two cases. Now, back to work.”

Jake looked right in the chief’s eyes “I know what you’re trying to do. I know you are considering nominating him for the job over me. I know you see him as your protege, and perhaps he reminds you of yourself, when you were younger. But you’re giving him cases above his experience level and stepping over a more deserving detective like me. That won’t fly with me.”

“That’s only in your head, Jake.”

“Oh I know it’s real. You do what you want, but I’ll be closely watching. Eventually, he’ll mess up and then, you’ll have to answer why you gave him this special treatment.”

“You know what, Jake? Perhaps if you spent more time on analyzing your cases and less time analyzing me, you would have been done with your case already. If only you listened.”

“Don’t ridicule me! I won’t be…”

“That’s enough.” Chief Willis firmly interrupted, pounding with his fist on his desk “I won’t allow infighting to happen in this precinct. If you’re as smart as you claim, you’d know that insubordination isn’t good for your file, when you desire to become chief of police. I gave an order. Now, leave and execute that order!”

Jake furiously headed out of the office. He sat at his desk and started dialing the lab’s number, hoping that his case’s test results were ready.

He sneaked a peak at Jonathan, who spread a big file on his desk and was completely consumed by what’s in it. That has to be the case file. He needed this case. This will get his name mentioned in front of the right people.

He muttered “I’ll show you, Jon.”