Killing The Blood Cleaner (26 page)

THIRTY-SEVEN

Major Knowles arrived early at the River Compound. He was surprised to see the Sheriff’s car parked at the entrance. As he unlocked the door he looked out at the dock and noticed that the Marine Interceptor was not berthed at the dock as usual. He entered the office and saw that the door to the Control Room was wide open. On the door was a folded note with “Major Knowles” written in the Sheriff’s handwriting taped to the door. The Major unfolded the note and read the hastily scrawled contents. “They have the flash drive and a recording of you and Jason Tibbs at Cindy’s,” the unsigned note stated briefly.

“Son of a bitch!” Knowles yelled, crumpling the paper and throwing it on the floor. He calmed himself with the thought that there might still be time to escape. He remembered the precautions he had taken to create another identity in south Atlanta, complete with a small, safe room over a liquor store and a car, properly registered to this new identity. All that was needed now was his identification documents. His cash hoard for such an occasion was well hidden in Atlanta.

Knowles stepped inside the Control Room and looked at the screens which were all on and were focused on the River Compound. At first he was relieved to see there was no unusual activity, just the traffic on the highways and some small boats cruising slowly on the rivers. He looked around the room and saw drawers pulled out and papers everywhere. He went to the small safe which was open. He looked inside and found his disappearance passport and driver’s license, along with Cindy’s documents. The Sheriff’s were missing. He ran his hands around the safe but could find nothing else. He looked at the passport and driver’s license and began to think of his new life. When he looked back at the screens, things had changed.

He could now see at least five State Patrol vehicles converging on his location and three Coast Guard patrol boats approaching from the river. No doubt they were under the orders of someone other than Commander Dalton. Then suddenly the screens went blank.

Knowles rushed to the outer office and ran over to the metal door to the armory. He tugged on the door and found it unlocked and the light on. He looked at the shelves and could see that the Sheriff had helped himself to a load of weapons, mostly pistols but also at least one automatic rifle and several tear gas grenades. Knowles grabbed a bullet proof vest and a loaded, semi automatic shotgun. Hastily he crammed extra cartridges for the shotgun and his pistol into the pockets of the vest. He stopped when he heard the phone in the office ring. It was not the ring of the phone to the general office, but the distinctive ring of the security phone. He picked up the receiver to the white telephone. “Knowles, this is Fitz Davis. We have Cindy’s flash drive. Those accounts are locked down. We also have a tape from Tibbs’s pocket recorder when you killed him. So we know you caused the wreck that killed Cindy. That fits right in with your use of the Homeland Security system that night. The Sheriff is on the run, but when we catch him we might need your help. I don’t think he has done you any favors. It would be a lot easier on you if you just came on out with your hands in the air so we can talk about this.”

The Major paused for a second and then spoke clearly into the telephone. “I don’t think so Fitz. That ain’t my way,” Knowles said as he hung up the receiver, cocked the shotgun, and took a step toward the door. Knowles looked out the small window and saw Trooper Doug King crouching behind the open door to his cruiser. “At least I can kill that damned sucker,” the Major said aloud, strengthening himself for the attack and checking his weapons.

It was at that moment the lights went out. Seconds later the door to the compound was rammed down flat. The Major threw himself on the ground as a concussion grenade was fired into the office followed by two tear gas grenades. Staggering forward, his eyes blinded by the tear gas, he began firing at any movement. Squinting, he managed to get off one shot in Trooper King’s direction. Knowles managed to fire one more round before the sharpshooters found their mark.

THIRTY-EIGHT

It was a happy holiday scene at the wharf in Savannah. The shiny white cruise ship was bound for its regular two week cruise of the western Caribbean. The passengers’ luggage was being loaded on the conveyor belt and the passengers were lined up for their security check and boarding. It was a long line but it was proceeding efficiently. Many of the passengers were in holiday attire and quite a few had obviously been celebrating their departure at the bars which lined the wharf. To keep the group entertained during the process several television sets were deployed on metal poles for the passengers to view. In addition, a Caribbean steel drum band pounded out island classics to the festive group.

A bald, older gentleman wearing a seersucker suit with a white polo shirt and aviator sunglasses watched with a slight smile as his ancient steamer trunk went past on the conveyor belt and into the cargo area of the ship. He could see it had caused no concern whatsoever to the uniformed operator as it passed through the electronic scanner and into the hold of the ship. He then turned his attention to the television screens before him. “What is going on while we are getting ready to have fun?” he asked an older woman who was accompanied by her even older friend. They were both wearing crisp white tennis shoes and flowery Mu-Mu type dresses. “Oh, you know. The usual bad stuff. Some sort of shootout between a Sheriff’s deputy and Georgia State Troopers someplace in Georgia. Something to do with drugs. That’s why I moved from Atlanta,” the woman replied with a broad smile. Her friend nudged her to move on.

“Thank goodness I don’t see much of that in my work,” the man replied with an equally broad smile as he squinted at the monitor in the bright sunlight. There were images of a smoking building and a body being removed on a stretcher. The ladies giggled slightly as they approached the desk of the security officer and presented their documents. The man carefully watched the officer’s procedure with the women and noted that the officer was not armed. In less than a minute the officer had shepherded both women through the metal detector and they were proceeding up the gangplank.

The man stepped forward and presented his ticket and passport. The officer noted that the man seemed to be in unusually good shape for his age. The officer looked over the passport and ticket and glanced for a second at a paper which contained pictures of two men in police uniforms. The picture of one of the men, a black man, had been crossed out.

“What sort of work do you do Mr. Simpson?” the officer asked in a monotone.

“I am a retired agricultural equipment salesman,” the man responded.

“I am assuming you are traveling for pleasure, like everyone else?” the officer asked, knowing the answer.

“Right. Work is not involved. That is all behind me. My wife passed away and I wanted some time to myself,” the man said softly with a friendly smile.

“Have a wonderful trip and be careful of the sun,” the officer said, returning his passport. Behind him on the television, the screen was filled with the image of Sheriff Roger Odum and his grey pompadour hairstyle.

“I am always careful. Thanks,” Mr. Simpson said as he proceeded through the metal detector and up the gangplank.

THIRTY-NINE

In front of the Courthouse were three television trucks with their long silver antennae at full attention. A row of silver, metal police barriers had been hastily arrayed around the front of the building and five State Troopers provided extra security at the entrance.

Inside, the Courtroom was packed to capacity with news people and general gawkers. Jack sat with Fitz Davis at the counsel table on the right. At the other counsel table was Arnold O’Berne, the lawyer for the inmates, and Dewey Lawson, the District Attorney. Directly behind Jack, in the first row, Tacy and the Warden sat and waited for the arrival of the Judge. There were two Bailiffs stationed by the door behind the Judge’s bench. A loud knock was heard and one of the Bailiffs proudly made the full ancient announcement.

“All rise. All rise. Hear ye, hear ye. The Superior Court of the State of Georgia is now in session. God bless this honorable Court, the State and People of Georgia and the United States of America,” the elderly Bailiff intoned as everyone in the room stood while the Judge approached the bench, his black robe rustling slightly as he moved.

“Please be seated,” the Judge said softly as he took his seat at the bench. He reached into a pocket and pulled out his narrow reading glasses and opened the large file in front of him. “I believe this was originally to be a bond hearing but now it appears that there are several matters to be taken up in the case of State vs. Dr. Jack Randolph and also some collateral matters in the G-MAX class action case. Is that correct?” he said to the assembled counsel as he peered over his spectacles.

Fitz Davis stood immediately in response. “That is correct, your Honor. The defense would move that the charges against Dr. Randolph be dismissed. I believe that recent events have fortunately shown him to be entirely blameless in this matter. I also understand that the District Attorney has no objection,” he said, looking over to Dewey Lawson.

The District Attorney stood and faced the Judge. “That is correct, your Honor. We have no objection to the charges of involuntary manslaughter being dismissed. We now have credible information which shows that the accident in question was set up and planned by Major Knowles to eliminate a witness. Of course there is still the matter of the Defendant’s driving under the influence …” he said until the Judge cut him off.

“Are you trying to tell me that despite a local law enforcement official setting up an elaborate trap which resulted in a death along with serious injury to the Defendant you still want to prosecute him? Am I hearing you correctly?” the Judge said loudly as Fitz Davis also rose to his feet.

Dewey Lawson shuffled his file and looked back at the Court room where the media reporters were taking furious notes. “Hearing the Court’s comments, we would dismiss that charge also. We just wanted to bring it up,” he said looking down at his feet.

“So noted, Mr. Lawson. The charges against the Defendant, Dr. Jack Randolph, are dismissed. All the charges and with prejudice. He is free to go,” the Judge stated making a notation in the file and handing a piece of paper to the Clerk.

“Judge, there is also the matter of excessive use of force against an inmate concerning this Defendant which is the subject of a Motion for Contempt under the Georgia Maximum Security Prison Class Action Orders. There are videos of that incident which have been provided by the Warden. These videos show the use of force to unlawfully obtain blood samples and they also show some collateral misbehavior on the part of Dr. Randolph and Nurse Tacy Crandall,” Mr. O’Berne, the attorney for the inmates announced.

“I have reviewed those videos,” the Judge said, looking down at Jack through his spectacles which were perched on the end of his nose. Jack started to stand but was restrained by a hand on his shoulder by Fitz Davis who was standing by his side.

“Your honor, this matter is essentially moot and also cannot now be legally proven. The complainant in this matter is dead, after showing himself once again to have been a vicious and violent man. A man who used the procedures of this Court to execute a violent escape,” Davis clearly stated to the Judge.

“Dr. Randolph, why was it so important to send these blood samples to the CDC? I am not quite understanding that,” the Judge asked. Jack looked at Davis who nodded his approval for Jack to explain.

“Judge, Mr. Kirk may be the Blood Cleaner for millions of people who are infected with the HIV virus which causes AIDS. Before I ordered these samples I had checked his file carefully. Kirk clearly was infected with HIV when he came into the prison system years ago. The law requires testing where sex crimes are involved, as I am sure you know. On two later occasions he tested negative. In other words, his body had somehow purged itself of the HIV virus. One of these negative tests involved the rape and murder of Dr. Bridge. The day I ordered these tests I was aware of those results and Kirk was again being accused of a sex crime by another inmate. I myself heard Kirk threaten the inmate victim who then refused a rape test. Often physicians send additional samples to the CDC of legally required tests, in essence for a second opinion. Dr. Bridge had previously sent them samples on other occasions. That was what I was doing,” Jack said calmly.

“Did you ever get a response from the CDC?” the Judge asked, looking through the file.

“It is my understanding they would like as much of his blood and tissue that is available. He represents hope for a lot of sick people,” Jack said looking out at the crowd and then back at the Judge.

“Warden, does Mr. Kirk have any relatives? Has anyone claimed his body?” the Judge asked.

“Your honor, I object. You can’t just donate this man’s body to science,” Mr. O’Berne stated in lawyerly fashion.

“Would you like to take custody of his remains? Isn’t such an unclaimed body the property of the State?” the Judge shot back.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to take custody,” the lawyer stammered.

The Judge smiled slightly. “I didn’t think so. I am dismissing the Motion for Contempt as moot and legally unproveable. I will do a written Order to that effect with a copy to the State Medical Board. As to any sexual misbehavior between Dr. Randolph and Nurse Crandall I find that completely irrelevant to the issues before this Court. I am also ordering these tapes to be sealed with access only to the Court and counsel. After a year they are to be destroyed. All copies are ordered destroyed at that time. Is that understood?” the Judge intoned. Both lawyers and the Warden nodded their assent.

“Is my client free to go?” Fitz Davis asked the Judge.

“I believe there is one more matter. Dr. Randolph has agreed to complete Dr. Bridge’s contract to provide medical services at the prison. He has now completed two weeks of that agreement. Of course, the impetus for that agreement was these charges against him which are now gone and any evidence of any collateral employment misconduct is now under seal. Warden, have you found a replacement doctor yet? Do you have anyone interested?” the Judge asked.

“We don’t have anyone yet, or any real prospects.” the Warden admitted.

“Are you really trying to provide medical coverage out of Augusta as I was told the other day?” the Judge asked.

“That is right Judge. We have a doc that comes over twice a week,” the Warden continued.

“Twice a week, for over fourteen hundred inmates? What do you do if there is an emergency?” the Judge asked, making a note in the file.

“They go straight to the local hospital.” was the reply.

“Dr. Randolph, what are your thoughts on continuing your career in correctional medicine, at least until the institution can get you a replacement? It does seem from those videos you have made some friends at G-MAX in your brief stay,” the Judge continued, looking over at Tacy as she sat with her long legs crossed in a crisp, black linen dress. This comment was greeted with muffled laughter in the Courtroom. Even Tacy laughed, as she blushed and put her hand to her mouth, her pretty eyes blinking wide.

“If the Warden can see to it to take Tacy and me back, I am available. I feel bad that she has had so many problems because of me. Lester, Georgia has been a lot more action packed than most people in Atlanta would believe,” Jack said, looking back at Tacy. “But there is one more thing. It is important that Kirk’s body be turned over to Dr. Howard Clayton at the CDC, especially since no one else claims it,” Jack continued.

“Warden, do you have a problem with this? The doctor wants a package deal for himself and Nurse Crandall,” the Judge asked in a tone where the answer was preordained. “No sir, not a bit.” was the Warden’s quick reply.

Mr. O’Berne stood and started to speak but was interrupted by the Judge.

“Dr. Randolph, of course you understand this Court cannot condone any wheeling and dealing with Mr. Kirk’s earthly remains and your services. However, Mr. Kirk will have to be disposed of somehow and it appears that the CDC is an acceptable and appropriate recipient. Mr. O’Berne has stated to this Court that he cannot accept Mr. Kirk’s remains and it appears there are no other takers. As such, the Warden is hereby ordered to transfer his body to the custody of the CDC for autopsy, examination and testing due to the nature of his crimes and for further respectful burial of any remains. Any further issues?” the Judge ruled to a quiet Courtroom. “Court is adjourned,” he stated with a whack of his gavel. The Judge stood and turned to exit, and silently and without prompting, every person in the entire courtroom stood.