LAMBERT CORRECTIONAL INCIDENT REPORT—031210SXH
DATE OF INCIDENT: March 12, 2010
TIME OF INCIDENT: 15:30
REPORTING OFFICER: Stewart Xavier Hillstone
At approximately 15:30, I entered Lambert’s solitary confinement unit to retrieve inmate 881978, Jeffrey Christopher Halcomb, and escort him to the visitation cell. Upon entering the unit, I heard Halcomb and inmate 932104, Trey Allen Schwartz, conversing in low tones through the ports in their doors. I made myself known by announcing that Halcomb should ready himself to be cuffed and removed from his cell, which brought their conversation to a halt.
Once I had Halcomb cuffed, I unlocked his cell and led him down the hall toward visitation, at which time Schwartz called out to him. I didn’t catch exactly what was said, but it was something akin to “see you later, Jay.” Schwartz sounded in good spirits. Halcomb did not respond.
I surrendered Halcomb to Officers Pasqual Cruz and Steven Morris at approximately 15:35, stopped by the security desk to note that Halcomb was in visitation, and returned to the SC unit and proceeded to do a standard contraband check of Halcomb’s cell. I completed my check and was ready to proceed back to the security desk when I noticed blood pooling out from beneath Inmate Schwartz’s door. Through the port in the door, I discovered the inmate unconscious on the floor at approximately 15:45. It appeared that the inmate had obtained an undetermined piece of contraband and stabbed himself in the carotid artery of his neck.
I immediately called for backup as well as for the security desk to unlock his cell. I rolled the inmate over and checked for a pulse while waiting for medical assistance, but the inmate appeared unconscious and limp long before they arrived. By the time assisting officers Malcom Gladwell and Craig Koch appeared, the inmate was deceased. The inmate was transported to Lambert General at approximately 18:15, where he was officially pronounced dead by the Lambert City coroner. The coroner removed the object that was used to end the inmate’s life and identified it as a metal cross with a sharpened stem approximately three inches in length. The cross appeared to have been a piece of costume jewelry potentially obtained through a visitor, though records show that Inmate Schwartz had no visitors for the three months previous to his death. It is as yet unclear as to how the inmate obtained such an item.
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YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE said anything.
Vee sat on the edge of her mattress and stared at the carpet beneath her feet.
We’re going to move as soon as I can find us another place to go.
No surprise there. She’d brought her father’s decision to leave the house down on herself, all because she had been angry, because she couldn’t resist taking a jab at him. He had seemed serious when he’d announced the change of plans, sad and defeated but not willing to take no for an answer. She could have said a lot of things to her dad right then, like how she wanted him to succeed so he could be happy again. Like how she knew that his books were what made him who he was and his writing kept him alive from day to day. She could have told him she loved him, that she was terrified of losing him in a divorce. She could have let him in on her secret, told him about the girl in the mirror, the boy in the orchard, the shadow people and weird music, the way the house had changed before her eyes.
But instead, she had been cruel. Giving up isn’t going to get Mom back. As though he didn’t know that. As if she had to remind him of what seemed like a guaranteed loss. Vee wasn’t convinced that a runaway bestseller would win back her mother, and perhaps that was for the better. She doubted her mom still loved her dad, and if there was no love there, her father was better off being alone.
Except that now he thinks you don’t love him, either. She bit her bottom lip hard enough to make herself wince. You’re an idiot, she thought. You can’t be supportive when people need it most. It’s like there’s something wrong with you. You’re broken, Vee. He’ll be happier without you, too. Swallowing against the bitterness in her throat, she shoved her fingers through her hair and nudged her laptop with her bare foot. It was enough to rouse it from sleep. The screen snapped on, and Jeff Halcomb gave her a look of understanding.
It’s not you, it’s him.
Because none of this would be happening if her dad hadn’t lied, if her parents could stop screaming for long enough to talk. She was being torn between two people, and the more she thought about it, the more she wondered if she would be better off on her own. Her dad would be happier without her. Her mom was already happier halfway across the world, having erased them both from her mind. Why shouldn’t Vee forget as well?
She had found a few interviews online. They told a story of a group of people under the direction of a man who loved them unconditionally. Jeffrey Halcomb encouraged a sloughing off of the past to move on to a happier future. It was exactly what Vee wanted, what she felt she needed. Jeffrey had promised his followers love and peace. Who was to say that wasn’t what they had when they all died? Who were the living to equate death with sorrow and pain?
You should try harder. She had to heed her own advice. If she didn’t try, she’d be moving in a week or two, her parents would still get divorced, and she’d be afraid of what the future held. She’d lose the opportunity to find her spiritual self, and what better place to seek it than in a house of spirits?
Perhaps, if she tried harder, the ghosts that lived within the walls would reveal their secrets.
Perhaps, if she just put in a little more effort, Jeffrey Halcomb would help her, too.
Vee grabbed her phone and composed a text.
Maybe the stuff with my parents is my fault.
Heidi: