78. Chapter 78 78 San Quentin Prison, Plan

Author: vaguely

Chapter 78 78. San Quentin Prison, Plan

The two got up early in the hotel. At five o'clock in the morning, it was still dark. Holden drove the Bronco through the quiet residential area. Dean rested in the passenger seat and looked at the skill progress in the system.

Fighting lv1(143/200→144/200)

Shooting lv1(89/200→90/200)

Shadow of the Past lv1(24→25/200)

Balance Meditation lv1(75→76/200)

Yesterday, Holden called to close the relationship, and he found an indoor shooting range in Santa Monica to practice shooting hard. He fought and tempered his spirit at night, and finally improved his proficiency in several skills.

Although the progress is extremely slow, before the final murderer emerges, his strength can be improved a little bit.

…

"How much do you know about San Quentin?" Dean asked, looking out the window at the rapidly reversing Olympic road sign. The car was heading toward the San Francisco Bay, the outlet of the lower reaches of the Sacramento River in northern California.

"This prison is located on an isolated peninsula and houses a variety of extremely vicious felons. It is the most heavily guarded, oldest and largest prison in California, and the only prison that can impose the death penalty on male prisoners.

."

Holden turned the steering wheel and the car drove onto I-10E.

"A few years ago, I went there with my old partner to interview Charles Manson, 'America's most dangerous serial killer', and record his journey of leading a criminal organization and killing dozens of people."

"Have you been sentenced to death?" Dean asked.

"No, life imprisonment. Today's laws are becoming more cautious about the death penalty, and the methods are becoming more gentle and humane, from beheading, hanging, shooting, electric chair, poison gas, to drug injection... Even if the prisoner is sentenced to death, he will have to die.

Get in line." Holden grinned with a sarcastic smile, "But most death row inmates don't get to line up for the day of execution, so they die in prison."

Dean was also eye-opening, "Why should the law be so kind to serious criminals?"

Holden explained,

"I have been working for more than ten years, and I have become more and more aware of this phenomenon - a considerable number of people in the United States like moral kidnapping and double standards, lack empathy for the families of the victims, and instead give the murderers the mercy of the Virgin."

"With the efforts of a large number of enthusiastic prison volunteers, San Quentin's inmates can participate in tennis, basketball, drama and other reform activities. In the near future, they may even be able to attend San Quentin Prison University and live a better life than without a home.

Homeless homeless people are much more comfortable."

"Isn't this just sending felons to enjoy their lives?" Dean commented briefly, "This is a waste of taxpayers' money!"

"Who says it's not?" Holden said with emotion, "I used to think that people who committed crimes were forced by bad circumstances, but in the process of communicating with these serious criminals, I slowly understood that some serious crimes are indeed

The criminal’s humanity still exists.”

"But the other part is born as a devil, and if you stay with them for a long time, you will also be affected."

…

A six-hour journey with several twists and turns.

Holden kept telling Dean Cop about the various systems of San Quentin Prison, and also complained about some of the laws in the United States.

Around 12 noon.

They passed through the San Francisco Bay and the Golden Gate Bridge above the strait, and finally arrived at San Quentin, the "prison paradise" covering an area of ​​432 acres.

Surrounded by green water and luxuriant trees, the natural environment is unparalleled.

At first glance, Dean thought he had arrived at a sanatorium or resort on a beautiful island.

However, it is heavily guarded. There are several posts every step, patrols can be seen everywhere, and the high walls are covered with iron wires and electric grids.

The two parked the car and entered the prison. After checking in, the heavily armed prison guards gave them a body search that was comparable to a full-body massage, even their hair and mouth.

The process was really a bit uncomfortable for Dean, but Holden looked calm.

After confirming that they did not carry any sharp, sharp, or dangerous props, the guards led them through several iron gates and through a group of inmates with tattoos all over them.

Entered a quiet and bright cubicle.

"What's the point of checking your hair and mouth?" Dean sat down on the chair and looked around casually. This place looked like a small canteen.

"Don't underestimate the intelligence of prisoners. The hairpins on their heads and the braces in their mouths can be transformed into weapons and tools for killing, committing suicide and escaping from prison."

Holden explained casually, then his eyes stern.

An Asian man wearing a light blue prison uniform was escorted into a cubicle by guards and sat across from the two men in handcuffs.

The two of them observed carefully and confirmed that it was the David Lee they had seen in the files. However, after only two months of transformation, his demeanor changed drastically. His body was so thin that a gust of wind could blow him over, and his originally plump forehead shriveled up.

, his face was unhealthy and pale, his cheekbones were protruding, his expression was sluggish, his eyes were evasive, and the confident and sunny look in the previous photos had become submissive.

The prisoner who killed the children was at the bottom of the prison, and he was a good-looking Asian.

God knows what he has been through in the past two months.

David looked at the two gentle smiling men opposite him, reflexively shrank his shoulders and moved his buttocks, a trace of fear flashed in his eyes, as if he had recalled some painful memory.

"Relax buddy, we won't hurt you. We are investigating a local child murder case that is unexpectedly similar to yours," Holden said bluntly, "Can we talk?"

"I'd like a coffee and a hot dog," David said hesitantly.

"Wait a minute." Holden went out and found the guard. After paying twenty dollars, he brought the steaming food to David. There were not only hot dogs but also precious soaked instant noodles and butter bread.

Dean is not surprised by this. To a certain extent, prisoners are also a financial source of the prison.

David grabbed the hot dog and wolfed it down. His mouth was full of residue and he made an unpleasant slurping sound. He was eating like crazy, as if he was competing with someone.

After finishing a hot dog quickly, he took a sip of scalding coffee, breathed a sigh of relief, and with a trace of color on his face, he began to slowly enjoy instant noodles.

"David, do you remember Kelly Scott?" Dean spoke at the right time, and Holden next to him turned on the recording equipment.

"That girl I've never known, seen, or touched in my life?" David's hand shook, and half of the instant noodles in his mouth accidentally fell onto the dining table. He immediately picked it up and ate it, "

I swear to God, if I were to hurt a child, I would kill myself."

"And I have never had any criminal record since I was a child. I have never harmed a small animal, let alone a human being! I shouldn't have to endure these inhuman tortures!"

Dean nodded quietly. It was only normal that David didn't know Kelly. After all, Abby didn't know Bucky Fran either.

"David, although the evidence is conclusive and the court found you guilty, I believe you are an innocent person. I need your help to catch the real murderer!"

Hearing this for the first time in more than two months, David was so moved that he almost burst into tears.

"Do you know her?"

Dean placed a picture of Abby Clark on the table.

David picked up the photo and looked at it for a few times, then shook his head.

"Sorry, I have no impression of her. Is she a student at Santa Monica University?"

Dean shook his head,

"More than two months ago, on July 22, the surveillance video captured you appearing at Santa Monica Beach. She was also there at the time. Have you never seen her?"

"July 22, the day Kelly was killed?" David sighed, "You may not believe it. Starting around July 19, I started to feel hot all over and my brain was burned to a pulp. I asked the school to

I took a vacation and rested at home to recuperate. On July 22, the fever was the worst. I almost fainted when I was alone at home. I couldn't remember anything in my mind. How could I go to the park and kill a child?

Go to the beach and enjoy the sea breeze!”

hiss--

Holden glanced at Dean in surprise. This guy asked Abby the same question at first, and everyone including the district attorney was confused.

Now he asked David this again, and David's answer was exactly the same as Abby's.

A prophet?

The corners of Dean's mouth curved slightly, and his eyes flashed with excitement.

"Very well, David, can you let me see your wrist?"

A trace of confusion flashed across David's face, but he still pulled up his sleeves and showed his two bare forearms in front of the two of them.

No!

Dean's pupils condensed and he asked again,

"Before you went to prison, had you been injured in the past few months, leaving a scar somewhere on your body?"

The man frowned and recalled for a moment, then reached out and touched the back of his neck.

"How do you know? I had an injury on the back of my neck in May."

"Let me see!"

Dean stood up, walked around the table, walked behind the man and took a look——

A half-finger-long crescent-shaped scar has healed, but the mark is very obvious, like a ferocious centipede under the skin.

Dean reached out and touched it, and then took a few photos of the scar from Holden's camera, becoming more and more certain that it was exactly the same as Abby's.

"Do you still remember that on July 22, apart from having a fever, did this scar feel strange?"
To be continued...