Everyone expected that McManus would blow his top once he found out the COs had started speculating about which Oz inmates were latent homosexuals, and had then begun running a betting ring about this, and that once the inmates had worked this out they had started faking comings out in order to distract the hacks.
In the end, he seemed strangely calm about it.
"Well, it does explain why Poet said he wanted to confide something to me earlier," he said.
Then he put his head in his hands.
"Herb E. Crime: felony drug possession, resisting arrest, public intoxication. Sentence: ten years."
McManus looked up from the file ("HERB E. SSN: 0027, DOB: N/A") and nodded to Glynn.
"Not many new arrivals today," he said, "Just those two transfers from Lardner and this guy. You want him in Em City?"
"No two ways about it," Sister Pete said. "He's older, he's not physically aggressive and he's Jewish. Put him in Unit B and the Aryans will use him for target practice."
"What about this diagnosis of uh, psychopathic personality?" McManus asked.
"Well," Sister Pete said, "They were a little bit freer with the 'p' word back in the Fifties. And there's a suggestion he might have some learning difficulties."
"Great," McManus said, "Crazy enough to be violent but too dumb to know what he's doing. We needed more of that in Em City."
"Go see him in the infirmary," Glynn said. "Make your own assessment."
"He got brought straight to the infirmary?"
Glyn shrugged. "Something about acute alcohol dependency."
Herb E.'s file said he was in his seventies but he looked small and strangely young, asleep in a big bed with a drip on his arm.
"I admitted him as soon as he came in the door," Gloria said. "His file got sent on ahead from Rikers."
"What's wrong with him?" TIm said.
"Alcoholic," Gloria said, picking up his chart. "I think someone was giving him access to alcohol in jail. Of course he won't be able to drink in here, which will be a real shock to his system - he's totally dependent. Some of the worst numbers I've ever seen. He probably clinks when he walks."
"He doesn't look too bad," Tim said, and it was true that he didn't look too bad, for a seventy-something guy with a diagnosis of psychopathic personality who had just spent a month in jail.
"Really?" Gloria said, sounding dubious. "Well, this IV-" she delicately tapped the bag with her fingernail, "Is just pure Canadian Club whiskey."
Tim stared at it for a moment.
"I think he can be admitted to Em City in a few days," Gloria said briskly. "Although I want to conduct some cognitive tests first."
"Pete says he's a psychopath," Tim said.
Gloria gave him one of her world-famous disappointed looks.
"I mean memory, spatial awareness, emotional control," she said. "Screening for signs of dementia. That kind of thing."
"You think he'll be okay in Em City?"
"Best place for him in this prison," Gloria sighed. "Do you know who he's going with?"
"Not sure," Tim said. "I was thinking Beecher. He's still sober, his last roommate is dead and Keller is still on death row - thank God. Maybe it'll be good for both of them."
Famous last words, he thought. And from the skeptical expression on Gloria's face, she was thinking the same thing.
A word to the wise: Dr Nathan worked at a sexual health clinic before coming to Oz.
So don't look at her funny during the intake questions about sexual history, or she can and will bury you under an avalanche of informative pamphlets.
"Members of the Irish Lesbian and Gay Organisation have once again protested against their exclusion from the annual St Patrick's Day parade. Asked for comment, the Ancient Order of Hibernians said..."
Ryan looked across at Pádraig, trying to gauge what he was thinking. Pádraig always had an opinion on everything, but you could never be entirely sure which way he would swing. Especially hard to know how he'd swing on this one. Connolly was pretty liberal on a lot of things. He didn't even like the Catholic Church, which had been a real difficult one for Ryan to try and wrap his head around. But he was also pretty tightly wound, and in Ryan's experience a lot of twitchy, tense guys had a problem with homos, even if they swore up and down that they didn't.
Worth poking him a little, just to see how he'd react. And if Ryan ended up looking dumb, well, Pádraig already thought he was kind of dumb because he was American, and didn't know who Ernie O'Malley was.
"You must find the whole thing outrageous, huh?" Ryan said. "Gays wanting to march in the St Patrick's day parade?"
Pádraig shrugged without un-crossing his arms. He didn't even look at Ryan, his eyes still fixed on the TV screen, now showing Irish gays waving their placards.
Ryan hoped that somewhere Seán was watching this channel, and that seeing a sign that said LEPRECHAUNS ARE FAIRIES TOO was going to raise his blood pressure so much he would have a massive heart attack and die.
"I know someone involved in that group," Pádraig said, nodding his head towards the TV.
"Oh, is he a friend of yours?" Ryan asked, trying not to sound too interested. He hadn't had Pádraig down as a closet case. Might be something to pay attention to in future.
"Well, he could strip a machine gun and put it back together in under a minute," Pádraig said.
"Huh," Ryan said.