2 hours ago
OCTOBER 5, 2005 -- WEDNESDAY - 4:30 P.M.
I had returned from James’ funeral and was diving back into the accumulated paperwork that had piled up over a week. I make it a habit just to glance at arrest reports, to see if anybody interesting might have entered the system. I almost overlooked it, but something caught my attention and then I realized the name I was looking at.
I rang the Lieutenant in charge at the jail and asked him about the prisoner who’d been brought in Monday and had sat in the jail for the past two days.
“The charge is aggravated battery and attempted murder but there’s no bond.
“He nearly killed a woman, tried to strangle her, but he didn’t finish the job. He scared the hell out of her and she filed an order to keep him the hell away from her regardless of the charges the arresting officer filed. However, before he could go in front of the judge, the son of a bitch nearly killed two inmates in the general holding cell where we were keeping him. He also sent one of my guys to University with a dislocated shoulder when he tried to get in the middle of it.”
“What happened? Why weren’t more charges filed against him?”
“Two of our alleged tough guy thugs moved in on him Monday night. Before it was over, he’d crippled one guy—smashed his knee up, broke his arm and collarbone - and beat the other guy so badly that he’s in the hospital in a coma. Harrington, Bob Harrington, was on shift duty and came in to try to save the guy. The ‘victim’ did something that nearly tore Harrington’s shoulder out of its socket.”
“Why the hell no charges?”
“Cameras caught the whole thing. He was defending himself. The two guys in the hospital started it all and he—uh—he tore them up before anybody could do anything to stop him. When he realized that Harrington was a jail officer, he
backed off. He even helped pop his shoulder back in its socket before the other officers could get in there.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Cameras don’t lie. We have audio as well. One of your guys told us we’d be lucky if he didn’t wind up suing us and making a bundle off the city for not protecting him better than we did.”
“Where is he now, and has he seen a judge?”
“No, we couldn’t charge him, but in light of everything that happened, and the fact the woman he nearly killed is terrified and begging us to keep him behind bars, we managed to put off a court appearance for a few days. That gives us a chance to figure out what the hell is going on and maybe let this guy cool down. We’re keeping him in a solitary holding cell. It’s not safe to leave him in the general population.”
“I’m coming down, Red. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Don’t tell him I’m coming.”
“To what do we owe this honor? You don’t usually come down for a face to face with anybody.”
“It’s personal.”
Butler himself was waiting at the entrance to the maze of halls and walkways that make up the jail when I got down there. They buzzed me in through the admitting door and he led the way. It took 10 minutes to reach one of the few individual cells we kept for dangerous visitors or those who were in danger themselves in the general population.
There was a hallway about four feet across, bars and a room with only enough space for a cot, a sink and an overhead television. A dark haired man lay on the cot, his arms folded under his head, staring at the television which was broadcasting soap operas at that time of day.
Butler stood beside me and he noticed that I didn’t get close to the bars, or close enough so that the man lying relaxed on the cot could get to me before I could move back.
“I guess you do know the guy,” he said. “Paul. Paul Donnally.”
After a moment, Donnally turned his head toward me and glanced at both of us. Butler he didn’t recognize, but I could tell he remembered me. I looked for what I’d seen in his eyes the day I’d fought Doug at UNF, but they were simply blank. He turned his head back away from me to stare at the ceiling.
I told Butler to get me a chair and when it came I sat down across from Donnally.
‘Mr. Donnally, I need to talk to you. Could you give me a few minutes of your time?”
He was silent for an unnerving amount of time, then sat up on his cot so quickly I almost leaned back away from him.
“I guess I’ve got the time, Mr. Maitland, but what brings a man of your stature down to talk to a simple wife beater?”
“Not beaten, the hospital records said she might have permanent damage to her vocal cords. You strangled her so severely you actually broke a number of blood vessels in her throat. They say it’s a miracle she didn’t die there, choke to death on her own blood. That was your wife, your wife of nearly 20 years. Why did you try to kill her?”
He looked at the floor as though studying the tile pattern, then said, “I didn’t try to kill her. If I had, she’d be dead.”
“You came very close.”
“I just lost it for a minute but I didn’t want to kill her.”
He looked at me for a moment, dropped his eyes and then looked back at me and I almost jumped out of my skin. Whatever it was that he was hiding flashed across his eyes for a moment.
“I guess you’re probably right, Mr. Maitland. I probably shouldn’t be let out of here. I’ll make it easy on you. I’ll plead guilty to aggravated battery and attempted murder. That should put me away for a while.”
I just stared at him for a moment. I wondered what was going on behind those blank screens of eyes. I still had the certainty in my gut that he was a very dangerous man, but I just didn’t get the vibes that he was a bad man, and yet he had nearly murdered his wife. Forget the two thugs, they’d deserved whatever they got, but he had nearly strangled the mother of his two college age children.
“Do you want to talk?” “No.”
“Would you mind - are you going to raise legal hell with us if we keep you here a few more days investigating what happened - before you go in front of a judge? You could get out quicker if you ask to see the judge.”
He shook his head again.
“No, I’m fine here. It’s good for thinking, no distractions.”
I had returned from James’ funeral and was diving back into the accumulated paperwork that had piled up over a week. I make it a habit just to glance at arrest reports, to see if anybody interesting might have entered the system. I almost overlooked it, but something caught my attention and then I realized the name I was looking at.
I rang the Lieutenant in charge at the jail and asked him about the prisoner who’d been brought in Monday and had sat in the jail for the past two days.
“The charge is aggravated battery and attempted murder but there’s no bond.
Why?”
“He was going to go before a judge Tuesday morning,” Lieutenant “Red” Butler said with his Arkansas Hillbilly Twang that 20 years out of the Ozarks had never eroded.“He nearly killed a woman, tried to strangle her, but he didn’t finish the job. He scared the hell out of her and she filed an order to keep him the hell away from her regardless of the charges the arresting officer filed. However, before he could go in front of the judge, the son of a bitch nearly killed two inmates in the general holding cell where we were keeping him. He also sent one of my guys to University with a dislocated shoulder when he tried to get in the middle of it.”
“What happened? Why weren’t more charges filed against him?”
“Two of our alleged tough guy thugs moved in on him Monday night. Before it was over, he’d crippled one guy—smashed his knee up, broke his arm and collarbone - and beat the other guy so badly that he’s in the hospital in a coma. Harrington, Bob Harrington, was on shift duty and came in to try to save the guy. The ‘victim’ did something that nearly tore Harrington’s shoulder out of its socket.”
“Why the hell no charges?”
“Cameras caught the whole thing. He was defending himself. The two guys in the hospital started it all and he—uh—he tore them up before anybody could do anything to stop him. When he realized that Harrington was a jail officer, he
backed off. He even helped pop his shoulder back in its socket before the other officers could get in there.”
“You’re absolutely sure?”
“Cameras don’t lie. We have audio as well. One of your guys told us we’d be lucky if he didn’t wind up suing us and making a bundle off the city for not protecting him better than we did.”
“Where is he now, and has he seen a judge?”
“No, we couldn’t charge him, but in light of everything that happened, and the fact the woman he nearly killed is terrified and begging us to keep him behind bars, we managed to put off a court appearance for a few days. That gives us a chance to figure out what the hell is going on and maybe let this guy cool down. We’re keeping him in a solitary holding cell. It’s not safe to leave him in the general population.”
“I’m coming down, Red. I’ll be there in 10 minutes. Don’t tell him I’m coming.”
“To what do we owe this honor? You don’t usually come down for a face to face with anybody.”
“It’s personal.”
Butler himself was waiting at the entrance to the maze of halls and walkways that make up the jail when I got down there. They buzzed me in through the admitting door and he led the way. It took 10 minutes to reach one of the few individual cells we kept for dangerous visitors or those who were in danger themselves in the general population.
There was a hallway about four feet across, bars and a room with only enough space for a cot, a sink and an overhead television. A dark haired man lay on the cot, his arms folded under his head, staring at the television which was broadcasting soap operas at that time of day.
Butler stood beside me and he noticed that I didn’t get close to the bars, or close enough so that the man lying relaxed on the cot could get to me before I could move back.
“I guess you do know the guy,” he said. “Paul. Paul Donnally.”
After a moment, Donnally turned his head toward me and glanced at both of us. Butler he didn’t recognize, but I could tell he remembered me. I looked for what I’d seen in his eyes the day I’d fought Doug at UNF, but they were simply blank. He turned his head back away from me to stare at the ceiling.
I told Butler to get me a chair and when it came I sat down across from Donnally.
‘Mr. Donnally, I need to talk to you. Could you give me a few minutes of your time?”
He was silent for an unnerving amount of time, then sat up on his cot so quickly I almost leaned back away from him.
“I guess I’ve got the time, Mr. Maitland, but what brings a man of your stature down to talk to a simple wife beater?”
“Not beaten, the hospital records said she might have permanent damage to her vocal cords. You strangled her so severely you actually broke a number of blood vessels in her throat. They say it’s a miracle she didn’t die there, choke to death on her own blood. That was your wife, your wife of nearly 20 years. Why did you try to kill her?”
He looked at the floor as though studying the tile pattern, then said, “I didn’t try to kill her. If I had, she’d be dead.”
“You came very close.”
“I just lost it for a minute but I didn’t want to kill her.”
He could have been discussing the weather, or the last Jaguars game. “You know that you’re a very dangerous man, don’t you?”
He shook his head.
“We’re all dangerous.”
“You nearly kill your wife. You send two big bruisers to the hospital, one with life threatening injuries. You nearly tear a jail officer’s shoulder off. That makes you more dangerous than most. That makes me wonder if I should do anything I can to keep you off the streets and away from other people you could hurt.”He looked at me for a moment, dropped his eyes and then looked back at me and I almost jumped out of my skin. Whatever it was that he was hiding flashed across his eyes for a moment.
“I guess you’re probably right, Mr. Maitland. I probably shouldn’t be let out of here. I’ll make it easy on you. I’ll plead guilty to aggravated battery and attempted murder. That should put me away for a while.”
I just stared at him for a moment. I wondered what was going on behind those blank screens of eyes. I still had the certainty in my gut that he was a very dangerous man, but I just didn’t get the vibes that he was a bad man, and yet he had nearly murdered his wife. Forget the two thugs, they’d deserved whatever they got, but he had nearly strangled the mother of his two college age children.
“Do you want to talk?” “No.”
“Would you mind - are you going to raise legal hell with us if we keep you here a few more days investigating what happened - before you go in front of a judge? You could get out quicker if you ask to see the judge.”
He shook his head again.
“No, I’m fine here. It’s good for thinking, no distractions.”
Like, Comment and Give Rating.
![[+]](https://xossipy.com/themes/sharepoint/collapse_collapsed.png)