Where Mercy Is Shown, Mercy Is Given - Duane Dog Chapman [59]
“Bullshit.” That was her response. “I know you think you’re invincible, Dog, but you’re not. Don’t feed me your Injun crap.”
I told Mary Ellen she was wrong and even decided to take it a step further. I guaranteed I’d pay her back every red cent of money it cost to send me down to Florida to capture Warren Halligan if I came back empty-handed. Of course, Mary Ellen knew that I was broker than broke and I didn’t have thousands of dollars to give her if I didn’t hold up my end of the deal. Even so, I had to put my money where my mouth was because I knew I was right. I offered to take her husband, Fred, with me so she’d feel secure her investment was safe—or at the very least, safer. And to be totally honest, I knew Fred would pay all the bills since I didn’t have two nickels to my name to front the trip.
The plan was simple. We would go down to the county jail and ask the warden to release Warren to us. I figured we would show him our bail bonds badges and they’d hand him over. Once I hit the road on a hunt, I’m all about the chase. Game on. I’ve got my badge and the law on my side. There’s no more Duane. Here comes the Dog.
Fred and I flew to Florida and went directly to the jail. I didn’t think anyone would ask to see my credentials, but just in case they did, I was ready. I called one of my FBI buddies and told him the story and asked for backup if I needed it.
“You got it, Dog,” he told me. “Let me know how it goes.”
When we got to the jail, vivid memories of my time in Huntsville flooded my head. When I stared up at the one giant fan blowing hot air into the entire building, I thought, This had to be built by Texans. It was so much like the prison I was in; same color too. Before long, Fred and I were greeted by the most redneck son of a bitch I had ever met. He was worse than any officer or warden I lived with for my entire eighteen months inside. Even so, I had to be cool because I needed the officer to cooperate so I could get my man.
“Officer Chapman, I’ve heard an awful lot about you, son,” he said.
I shook his hand and introduced him to Fred. “This is my partner, Fred. Show him your badge, Fred.” I could see a look of panic come over Fred’s face as I cajoled him along.
“That’s not necessary, boys. What can I do you for?” This good ol’ Southern boy couldn’t have been more accommodating as I began to tell him our story.
Just as I thought I’d closed the deal to hand over Halligan, my cell phone rang. It was my old buddy, Keith Paul. He’d heard about what I was doing and thought he’d check in to see if I needed a hand. I played it cool, like Keith was my boss. I handed the prison officer my phone so he could talk to Keith, too.
“Keith Paul, FBI. The guy they’re tracking is a sucker.” Keith’s unexpected call gave us the last bit of credibility we needed to get our man without hesitation from the officer. The only rub here was he now thought we were federal marshals, although we never said we were. Because of the call from Keith, the officer asked us to come back to the property room before he’d hand over the fugitive, so we could check something out they found when they arrested my guy. He opened up a jar full of clear liquid and asked me to smell it.
“What is it?” the officer asked.
“Jesus, you’ve got a half a million dollars’ worth of speed in there,” I answered. “It’s liquid meth, bro.”
The officer called the sheriff and told him what they had. The sheriff made a beeline back to the jail so he could see what was going on for himself.
“Let’s go do a raid, boys,” the officer said as soon as he hung up the phone. So the sheriff, Fred, and I, along with another eighteen officers, paid a surprise visit to every inmate’s cell. I was pulling a wagon behind me because I was certain we’d need it for the evidence we were about to find.
“How you doing, fellas?” I asked the first two inmates we searched. “You know what this is? It’s Christmas Day. Get out here while we search your cell.” After turning the