“How many people know the truth?” Hugo asked.
Junior placed the phone on the table and rubbed his eyes as if he hadn’t slept in days. With his right hand he raked his fingers through his thick hair, all the way to the ponytail. Slowly, he picked up the phone and said, “Not many. Most people consider me a killer. They believe the story, and why not? I was convicted in a court of law and here I am, rotting away and waiting for the needle. I’ll get it one day, and they’ll haul me back to Brunswick County and bury me somewhere. The story will live on and on. Junior Mace caught his wife with another man and killed them both in an act of rage. That’s a pretty good story, right?”
Nothing was said for a moment. Lacy and Hugo scribbled away as they tried to think of their next question. Junior broke the silence with “Just so you’ll know, this is an attorney visit so there’s no time limit. If you’re not in a hurry, believe me I’m not either. It’s about a hundred degrees in my cell right now. There’s no ventilation, so my little fan just pushes the hot air around. This is a nice break for me, and I welcome you back anytime you’re in the neighborhood.”
“Thanks,” Hugo replied. “Do you get many visitors?”
“Not as many as I would like. My kids stop by occasionally but those are hard visits. For years I wouldn’t allow them to see me here and they really grew up fast. Now they’re married. I’m even a grandfather, but I’ve never seen my grandkids. Got pictures, though, all over my wall. How would you like that? Four grandchildren and I’ve never been able to touch them.”
“Who raised your kids?” Lacy asked.
“My mother helped until she died. My brother Wilton and his wife did most of it, and they did the best they could. Just a bad situation. Imagine being a kid and your mother gets murdered. Everybody says your father did it and they send him to death row.”
“Do your kids think you’re guilty?”
“No. They got the truth from Wilton and my mother.”
“Would Wilton talk to us?” Hugo asked.
“I don’t know. You can try. I’m not sure he’ll want to get involved. You gotta understand that life is pretty good these days for our people, much better than before. Looking back, I’m not sure Son and I were on the right side when we fought the casino. It’s brought jobs, schools, roads, a hospital, a level of prosperity our people had never dreamed of. When a Tappacola turns eighteen, he or she qualifies for a lifetime pension of $5,000 a month, and that might go up. It’s called the dividend. Even me, sitting here on death row, I’m collecting the dividends. I would save it for my kids but they don’t need it. So, I send it to my lawyers in Washington, figure that’s the least I could do. When they took my case, there was no dividend system and they certainly didn’t expect any money. Every Tappacola gets free health care, free education, and college expenses if he or she wants it. We have our own bank and make low interest loans for houses and cars. As I said, life there is pretty good, much better than before. That’s the good part. On the downside, there are pretty serious motivational problems, especially among the young. Why go to college and pursue a career when your income is guaranteed for life? Why try and find a job? The casino employs about half of the adults in the tribe, and that’s a constant source of friction. Who gets an easy job and who doesn’t? There’s a lot of infighting and politics involved. But on the whole, the tribe realizes that it has a good thing going. Why rock the boat? Why should anyone worry about me? Why should Wilton help you bring down a crooked judge when everyone might get hurt in the process?”
“Are you aware of corruption at the casino?” Lacy asked.
Mace put the phone down and rummaged through his hair again, as if painfully pondering the question. His hesitancy suggested he was struggling not with the truth but with which version of it. He picked up the phone and said, “Again, the casino opened a few years after I came here. I’ve never laid eyes on it.”
Hugo said, “Come on, Mr. Mace. You said yourself it’s a tiny tribe. A big casino for a small group of people. It must be impossible to keep secrets. Surely you’ve heard the rumors.”
“Tell me about them.”
“Rumors of cash being skimmed and taken out the back door. According to estimates, Treasure Key is now a half-billion-dollar casino, and 90 percent of the gross is in cash. Our source tells us there is a gang of organized criminals in bed with the Indian leaders and they’re skimming like crazy. You’ve never heard this?”
“I may have heard that rumor but that doesn’t mean I know anything.”
“Then who does? Who can we talk to?” Lacy asked.
“You must have a good source or you wouldn’t be here. Go back to your source.”