by Arnie
"May I help you, Mr. Collins?"
The prison warden scowled. "The Head Warden wants to see you. On yer feet."
"Of course, Mr. Collins." Smoothly, Actor put his book to one side and moved out into the corridor.
Leading the way, Actor allowed a slight smile to cross his face. He was well aware of Collins' intense dislike for him, however, he was also well aware that Collins was one of those prison wardens who always played by the rules. And since Actor knew all the rules and knew exactly how to play by them, that meant Collins was unable to harm him in the slightest - although the prison warden would have given his eyeteeth for the opportunity.
"Hey, Actor, you in trouble again?"
There was laughter from the cells they were passing, and Collins irritably slapped his truncheon against the bars. "Keep it down in there!"
Actor's smile grew. Whatever it was he was wanted for, Collins wasn't pleased; which meant that it was something good. "Not at all, gentlemen. The Head Warden merely requested the pleasure of my company."
The laughter resumed.
"He's probably inviting you to dinner, Actor! Don't forget yer black tie!"
In spite of the gibing, there was no malice behind it. Against all the odds, Actor was a popular prisoner. He was no trouble to the wardens, but the prisoners liked and respected him too. The sheer size of him guaranteed that few would be foolhardy enough to take him on, and the air he had of always being in control meant that even those few took the time to think twice before starting any trouble. The liking he had garnered came from the fact that he was always ready to give advice - and his knowledge of the law ensured that the advice he was giving was usually more than good.
Accordingly, the good natured teasing continued. Collins' scowl grew with every cell they passed, and by the time the pair reached the Head Warden's office his glare was enough to warn off even the hardiest of criminals.
Stepping to one side, Actor allowed his guard to knock at the door, then open it. He smiled and murmured, "Thank you, Mr. Collins," as he preceded the warden into the room.
If it had been possible, Collins would have scowled even more.
"Ah, there you are...uh...Machiavelli. That will do for now, Collins."
As the door shut behind Collins with slightly more force than was necessary, Actor stopped himself from grinning and merely continued to smile. "You wished to see me, Mr. Orwell?" he enquired, genially.
"On the contrary...Machiavelli." The Head Warden frowned as he considered Actor's supposed name, then continued, "It's Lieutenant Garrison who wishes to see you." Handing Actor's file to him Orwell added, "I'll leave it in your hands, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, sir."
Garrison waited until the Head Warden had left, then opened Actor's file. He'd read it quite a few times, (the name alone had got his attention), but Actor's list of attributes had earned him an almost guaranteed place on Garrison's team. All Garrison had to do was con the conman.
"Mr...Machiavelli."
Garrison's tone was deadpan, and Actor smiled again. His arrest had come as something of a shock to him as he'd always managed to avoid any kind of unpleasantness before. However, his sense of humour had not deserted him during his arrest, and when his name had been demanded he'd replied with that one. Hearing police officers, court officials and prison wardens all forced to call him 'Machiavelli' when the majority of them were convinced it was a fake name, never failed to make him smile.
Garrison gazed consideringly at the man before him. "Take a seat."
Actor sat, totally at his leisure, and inspected the soldier who was now sitting on the edge of the Head Warden's desk. "Thank you, Lieutenant Garrison."
Pulling out his cigarettes, Garrison offered one to Actor before taking one himself. "Have you ever considered working for the Government?"
Actor paused for a second before accepting the light Garrison was offering him. "I can't say that I have," he replied, his tone indicating that he might consider it in the future.
Garrison smiled. "There would, naturally, be advantages."
"Naturally."
"One of them being a parole."
A sudden stillness about the conman told Garrison that he had him. While Actor kept his feelings concerning his imprisonment well hidden, the possibility of a parole had given him a tiny jolt.
He knocked the ash from the end of his cigarette into the ashtray on the Head Warden's desk and smiled. "I'm listening."
Twenty minutes later Actor was back in his cell, his book lying forgotten by his side. A parole. For once he allowed his eyes to see the cell that surrounded him; he'd always kept it at bay, never allowed that starkness to sink into his soul and make him feel like a prisoner. And now, a chance for freedom.
His eyes moved around the cell, noting the metal bed and the rough grey blanket that kept out the cold at night, then lingering on the door. For a second the urbane gentleman disappeared and a cold determination entered his eyes. Whatever it took, he was going to win that parole, and once he was out he was never coming back.
THE END
