 For two hours we talked. By the time we parted, our plan had been worked out in detail. It was a plan for murder. Murder with clean hands. The next morning I took my soiled linens and drove across the prison yard to the laundry. Bucky Briggs came out to the car. He didn't even look up at me. Where is he? In the back of the car. Here, let me open the door for you.