Chapter One
The Judgement
April 1, 1999
Perhaps some in the room weren’t sure what verdict the jury would hand down, but not Teddy. The Prosecutor had ensured that all the jury would see was a middle-aged, petty thief with a pot belly from too many beers and a long rap sheet.
“Will the defendant rise for the verdict,” the Judge said
“We, the jury, find you guilty on one account of Murder in the 1st degree and hereby suggest to the court that Teddy M. Caldwell receive the maximum sentence of death.”
I should probably show remorse; people expect that, after all. It was tempting to shed a few tears. Perhaps that would affect future appeals; however, there was one problem: Teddy was innocent. Of course, that’s what most criminals seemed to claim, but in his case, it was true, and he had the evidence to prove it if only he could convince himself to bring it forth and show who the real killer was that day.
***
With his hands and feet shackled, two stone-faced deputies held tightly onto Teddy’s arms. They led him to a van, which waited to take him to Coyote Ravine Penitentiary. Teddy didn’t take his eyes off the wooded scenery on the drive. After all, this was likely the last time he’d see anything other than concrete blocks and metal bars.
Once they reached the penitentiary, armed guards with assault rifles buzzed the van through the outer fence. After two more gates—a little overkill, in Teddy’s opinion—he had front-row parking and valet service. The walk inside wasn’t exactly what he’d expected, no inmates hollering or giving death stares. And other than the three men at the end of the long hallway, awaiting their newest arrival, the place was empty. Maybe he’d have the place to himself. The two stone-faced deputies kept their tight grip and moved just slow enough that Teddy’s shackled legs could keep up. The scraping of chains against concrete was the only sound to break the horrible silence until he reached the three men.
“Mr. Caldwell,” the man in the middle said.
“Warden, I presume?”
“You guessed it.”
The Warden’s physic belonged to a younger man, but his grey hair and mustache probably meant he’d breached his fifties.
“Welcome to Coyote Ravine Penitentiary, or CRP for short—,”
Teddy smiled ever so slightly.
“You find something funny about your situation, Mr. Caldwell?”
The man was keen-eyed, probably a qualification for the job.
“No, sir,” Teddy said since it probably wouldn’t be a good idea to tell the Warden CRP sounded an awful lot like the word crap which was what this whole situation felt like.
“Good. Now for business. It’s not often that I make time to personally greet those assigned to death row, but in your case, I’ve made an exception. After all, it’s not every day—thank the good Lord—that we get a convicted cop killer here.”
News travels fast in these parts.
“I think we can handle him from here, gentlemen,” the Warden said to the stone-faced guards.
“He’s all yours, Warden,” one of the deputies said and shoved Teddy forward.
His shackled legs kept him from catching his balance. He stumbled forward and barely stopped inches from the Warden’s chest. Immediately, Teddy stood upright and stared unflinchingly into the man’s fiery blue eyes.
“There’s never been a successful appeal here at the CRP—” the Warden said, looming over Teddy, “—and I don’t expect that to change in your case. No one escapes The Row.” Apparently satisfied he’d thoroughly crushed any hopes Teddy had of appealing his case, the Warden stepped aside. Little did he know, his speech was a waste of time. Teddy had no intention of making an appeal.
“Get moving,” the guard growled, giving Teddy an emphatic shove.
His chains scraped along as a baton from behind guided him to the last cell on the right.
“Step inside,” a harsh voice demanded.
Teddy extended his wrists through the specially designed opening. The guards removed his irons and left without another word. Finally alone, Teddy collapsed against the wall, slid down, and allowed pent-up tears to stream silently down his cheeks.
Chapter Two
The Warden was wrong
April 1st, 2024, 0700 hours
Teddy paused with his hand on the metal handle of the glass door. Would this time be any different? Would he be here again? Would she? There was only one way to find out. The moment the door cracked open, the smell of smoke hit his nostrils. From the yellowed ceiling tiles, courtesy of countless smokers giving way to their vices, to the short black carpet with too many stains to count, the place hadn’t changed over the last 25 years. Even the brown shoes and can of Lysol still sat atop the counter to his right near the woman with the perm and pit-stained tank top. She never bothered looking up from her crossword puzzle, but that didn’t deter Teddy from watching anxiously as long ash teetered the cigarette butt hanging from her mouth.
Crashing pins pulled his attention from the woman to lane 9, where a man had just left a 7 / 10 split. Good luck with that. Some people would probably consider this place the last stop before death, but not Teddy. To him, it was paradise. At least compared to the 10 x 4 concrete cell in which he’d spent the last 25 years.
From the corner of his eye, an unwelcome sight appeared at the far end of the alley, and it took all of one second for him to spot Teddy. The man hadn’t changed any more than the bowling alley had. He still looked like a walking poster for the 70s with his thick mustache and shirt unbuttoned, revealing dark chest hair.
“Teddy, baby,” the big Italian said, grabbing Teddy by the shoulders and planting a kiss on both cheeks. Teddy grimaced, not so much because of the Italian’s greeting but because the man’s breath smelled like an ashtray, thanks to the cigars he smoked.
“So, you changed your mind and came back. I knew you would.”
“Not exactly.”
“Come on, Teddy, how long youse gonna hold out on me? You were the best of my squad.”
“Is that why you set me up on a murder charge?”
“Come on, Ted. Do you really think I’d set up my best guy?”
“Yeah, Marcio, I do. What do you take me for? An idiot? I told you I wanted out, and then, I’m conveniently framed for murder.”
“I’d hardly say you were framed, Teddy,” Marcio said, his tone now neutral after the chummy routine had run its course. “You were in the bank that day. You were armed. How do you know one of your bullets didn’t strike that poor cop?”
“I never fired my pistol, Marcio. I’M INNOCENT,” Teddy said, shoving a finger into the man’s chest for emphasis. Although a head shorter and probably a hundred pounds lighter, Teddy had a low tolerance for being called a liar and even less tolerance for the big Italian.
Marcio ignored the outburst and pulled a cigar case from his pocket. Once lit, he took a deep drag and blew a big puff of smoke into Teddy’s face.
“Innocent. That’s not how Wanda saw things.”
Teddy paused. What’d he mean by that?
“Don’t look so surprised,” Marcio said, a smirk creeping across his face. “Surely, you had to know her testimony sent you away.”
That can’t be true.
“Come on, old pal, don’t look so wounded,” Marcio said, putting his arm around Teddy’s shoulder. “It’s not too late to make things right. You know we got a guy over at the DA’s office. Just say the word, and you’ll have your old job back. Who knows, maybe you and Wanda can even work things out. She’s here tonight, you know, back there in the hangout. It could be like the old days for the two of youse. I’m sure you remember the smell of that cheap perfume she loves so much.”
How could he ever forget? That song was playing the first time he saw her. How’d it go? “I seen her in a smoky room, the smell of wine and cheap perfume…” Instantly, his mind was transported back thirty years to the first time he’d seen her in the hangout. She was sitting on an old leather couch, legs crossed with a mid-thigh skirt, red knee-high boots, and bright red lipstick. He’d been stupid enough back then to believe he could change her, but he was the one who’d changed. Twenty-five years on death row had a way of doing that to a man. Teddy shook away the memory, reached up, and brushed Marcio’s arm off.
“I’m never coming back, Marcio. You haven’t had power over me in 25 years and that isn’t about to change now, especially on today of all days. I’ve passed my last test, and it’s time for you to get behind me for good this time.”
Teddy turned his back to the big Italian and opened his eyes.
Chapter Three
Redemption
April 1st, 2024, 0800 hours
Teddy sat on his bunk and listened to boots tapping on the cold concrete floor. The sound belonged to someone Teddy wasn’t overly eager to see today. Not because he hated the man or held any ill will toward him. In fact, against all odds, the man had become the closest thing Teddy ever had to a friend, but today was going to be hard on both of them. After all, today was execution day.
“Warden,” Teddy said as the man arrived at his cell.
“Teddy, I’m sorry—,”
“Don’t apologize,” Teddy interrupted, “It doesn’t suit you.”
“I just wanted you to know that I tried.”
Teddy nodded, not surprised in the least. After all, the Warden had tried several times over the years, after getting to know Teddy, to talk him into appealing his case. Even though they both knew it was useless without the evidence. It was likely the Warden had requested an extension or delay for Teddy’s execution. As expected, the request was denied.
“If you would’ve just given me the evidence, I might have stood a fighting chance of getting you out of here.”
“I know. That’s why I never gave them to you.”
“You stubborn mule! We both know an innocent man is about to die for the sins of another.”
“It’s not the first time in history that’s happened.”
“No, I reckon it’s not, but that innocent man and you have entirely different agendas. Why wouldn’t you ever tell me who they were?”
“Who?”
“Don’t do that. Just don’t. You know what I mean.”
“Warden, you’re the closest thing to a friend I’ve ever had. Despite these circumstances, it’s been an honor knowing you. To tell you the truth, I always figured you’d beat me to the finish line.”
“Heck, I should’ve been there ten years ago,” the Warden said with a smile. “Instead, I’m stuck here taking care of you,” he said, motioning for the young guard who’d accompanied him to open the cell.
“Sir?”
“You got a question, son?” the Warden asked in a tone that should have given the kid a clue to drop it. Apparently, he was still getting to know the Warden.
“Sir, the shackles?”
“Son, when I need your input, I’ll put a quarter in your ear and twist your knob. Until then, you’d do best to keep your ears open and your mouth shut. Now open the cell.”
Teddy couldn’t help but smile. Not because of the young guard’s hard lesson but what it meant for the hard-nosed Warden to break such a serious rule.
“Come on, Teddy,” the Warden said, gently touching his shoulder.
A thousand thoughts should have raced through Teddy’s mind, but nothing came. So, they walked along silently until the Warden finally said, “You know, I reckon twenty-five years on death row is just about enough to break a man. How’d ya hold it together, Teddy?”
“By discovering you were wrong about something you said the day I met you.”
“Oh really?” the Warden said, steering Teddy down a hallway to the right, with The Row written in red letters above the entrance.
“I did find a way to escape.”
“I hardly think death is a viable escape plan.”
“Not death. I revisited that old bowling alley just about every day over the last twenty-five years. In my mind, I recreated every square inch of that place. I remembered every smell. Every sound. I even recreated Doris, the woman who’d worked at the front desk for as long as I can remember. The Darndest thing though, I never could interact with anyone except Marcio, the big Italian, and we had the same conversation every time. He’d offer me freedom if I returned to work for him.”
“And what’d you say?”
“Over the years, my responses varied, but today, I finally put him behind me for good,” Teddy said and laughed heartily.
“Hey Teddy, you need to hold it together, man.”
“Don’t you see, Warden? I finally won! Today, of all days, should have been the time I succumbed to Marcio’s invitation to see her and work for him again. It should have been today! But I didn’t give in. For the last time, when I had nothing left to lose, I didn’t even imagine returning to my old ways. I’m free, Warden. Truly free.”
“Boy, you’ve got a crazy outlook for someone facing what you’re facing,” the Warden said, stopping Teddy in front of a door with a big glass window.
Teddy stared at the modified gurney, which looked like something you’d find in a psych ward. Be strong. Teddy sighed. Deep inside, he wished he’d given the Warden the evidence years ago.
“What’s this?” the Warden asked as Teddy handed him a key.
“Coyote Ravine bank. Safety Deposit Box. You’ll find what you’ve been asking for.
“I…thank you.”
Chapter Four
Coyote Ravine Bank
April 1st, 2024, 1700 hours
“Howdy, Warden,” a middle-aged woman said from behind the counter as he entered the bank. “You having a good day?”
“No, Therese, I’m not having good day.”
“Anything I can do to make it better for ya, hun?” she said and winked.
She always was a little flirtatious.
“Not unless you can raise the dead.”
“God has given me many talents, but I don’t think that’s one of them. Anything else I can do?”
“You can retrieve the box that belongs to this,” he said, extending the key Teddy had given him just before…
“That I can do. Follow me. You’ll have more privacy back here in the vault.”
Therese slid the slender metal box from its slot and placed it on a waist-high square table in the middle of the vault.
“I’ll give you some privacy, Warden. Just come get me when you’re ready.”
The Warden nodded and waited until she was gone to insert the key. He picked up the pair of broken eyeglasses and inspected them. Best he could tell, there wasn’t anything special about them. Maybe the letter had something to say.
To my oldest (and probably only) friend,
If you’re reading this, then we both know what that means. Several years ago, I finally decided to let you in on my secret. Don’t worry; I am innocent, just like I told you, but I never shared the evidence because of Wanda, the only woman I’ve ever loved. I met her at the old bowling alley shortly after I started working for Marcio, the Italian. From the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew she was trouble, but that didn’t stop me from dating her for five years. She’d scout out the places we planned to hit. Marcio would plan the job. (I’m sorry, but I have nothing on him to help you take him down.) Then, I and some hired goons would carry out the jobs. Marcio would hire different men for every job, and we always wore masks.
My last job was the bank job, and Marcio chose the wrong thug this time. The day we hit the joint, an off-duty officer was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He did what you’d expect him to do and tried to stop us, but the goon Marcio hired shot the man without batting an eye. I ran over, punched the thug square in the face, and they hit the floor. I turned to check on the officer, but he’d already passed. By the time I turned back, the goon had disappeared, but they’d left behind this broken pair of glasses. That’s the day I decided that I wanted out.
I begged Wanda to come with me, but she wouldn’t even look at me. I’ll admit I was angry with her. I grabbed her face to make her look me in the eyes, and that’s when she winced in pain. She’d done nearly a perfect job with her makeup—nearly. The cuts and bruises on her nose were barely visible. I couldn’t allow myself to believe she’d been the one who’d shot that officer; however, one has a great deal of time on The Row to reflect, and eventually, I couldn’t deny it any longer. Anyway, I left her that day, found Marcio, and told him I wanted out. Not long after, I was framed for murder. I couldn’t bring myself to turn her in, Warden. Like I said, she’s the only woman I’ve ever loved. Am I a sucker? Yes. Did that change my love for Wanda? No. I’m sorry.
Your Friend,
Teddy W. Caldwell
This is a well written, thought provoking, and very interesting piece of literature!