Early Sunday morning, three men in dark suits got off the elevator. With them, was a fourth man, heavyset with wispy grey hair around his balding dome. He seemed out of place in his grey slacks and an old beat-up grey tweed jacket. They approached the uniformed officer who sat about half way down the first corridor on the left.
The officer stood as the men approached.
“How’s the prisoner doing today?” the disheveled man asked, taking the lead.
“Seems fine, Lieutenant. Asked if I could get her a book or a deck of cards.”
“Don’t see why not.” He looked back at the other men for concurrence. “Why don’t you go get a cup of coffee,” Lieutenant Erickson told the young officer. “These men are from the Federal Government. They have a few questions for our guest in there, so she won’t need you
