diamond – Chapter 1
Intro
Start reading diamond, a dystopian detective novel set in a world where the apocalypse may already be unfolding unnoticed.
Ian D. Feldman, Copyright 2026. All rights reserved.
Chapter text
Hoots and catcalls echo outside my cell, a summary of my welcome to the Alabama prison system.
The steel mirror gives a funhouse reflection of my scarecrow features, still gaunt from a week spent starving in the Bankhead National Forest. The scar on my cheek from a whipping branch, a Frankenstein detail I hate.
The jail's welcoming committee rejected my application for membership. The black bruise swelling under my left eye, their stamp of disapproval, issued fifteen minutes after the guard left me in the dayroom. Kessler's livestream held more water than my protests of innocence. If I had just killed Doris, they said, they'd let me in. But my husband stole from them, and they need compensation for Saxon's crimes. So they took a pound of my flesh…because Kessler's narrative has changed how people see me—for the worse.
My tender cheekbone earned me segregated housing in record time.
Alone. Again. And not even an ice pack for my suffering.
Testing my swelling cheekbone sends tiny jolts around my head. I put my cheek against the coldest part of my cell—the steel toilet, hoping to keep the swelling down until the next medical round…which won't come until tomorrow because of the ruckus.
"Holloway."
My eyes shift to the intercom. "Yes?" I know they can hear me.
"Holloway," repeats the voice.
With a heavy exhale, I get up and push the button. "Yes."
"You have a visitor. Stand by the door. A guard will be there to shackle you for transport."
The intercom clicks. I guess the voice doesn't expect an answer, so I stand by the door.
Minutes later, I'm shackled and shuffling along to the jangle of chains and hoots from the welcoming committee.
"Spoiled rich girl gets special treatment."
"Honey going to give her honey some honey."
And on it goes. I almost miss the woods—not much food, but plenty of quiet.
After several buzzes and the slam of security doors, I sit across from Sergeant Hinton of the Jasper Police, who gets right to the point. "Mrs. Holloway, do you recognize this?" He slides Calder's pocket watch toward me.
"That's Evan Calder's watch. The one his father gave him." I knew he was up to something.
"Why is your handprint on it?"
It's a day for sighs. "Calder tried to give it to me yesterday in the property room. Then he put it in my pocket. I told the property officer. He said he'd take care of it. Janes saw Calder try to foist it on me too."
Hinton nods. "That's consistent with the video footage." He slides a paper over. "Is this your property intake form?"
"It's got my signature on it. I didn't have very much."
"Why is the watch on it as property?"
"The property officer said he fixed it. I signed on the electronic pad, but never saw the form."
"Hmmm. Why didn't you call Janes over to confirm it?"
"Why would I call her over? She was right next to me and watched the whole process."
"You understand you're responsible, right? You didn't verify the form, but you signed it, right? That makes you responsible—"
"It does not. I told the property officer. I can't make him do his job and provide it to me, right?"
"And before that? Why not call Janes over to stop Calder from interacting with you?"
This can't be happening. "She saw us talking. The other officer put him next to me. Other prisoners—"
Hinton raises his hand. "What did he say to you?"
My heart beats at a hundred miles an hour. "He told me about his father and the watch and that his father would want me to have it. He pressed it into my hand, then put it in my pocket. I didn't take it."
"Mrs. Holloway, don't be defensive. Just tell me what he said. Everything he said."
Don't be defensive, he says. Hold it together, girl, it's just a tactic to throw you off balance and get you to admit to something. "Let's see. He came in. Sat next to me. First thing was he hoped he'd see me."
"Did he say why?"
You mean other than to set me up again? "No, not exactly, unless you're talking about him wanting to give me the watch. Next thing he said was that he thought they would have released me."
"Why did he say that?"
"Look, Sergeant, if I knew what Calder was thinking every time he flapped his gums, I could tell you why he killed Doris. I wouldn't be here talking to you now."
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"Okay, continue with your story."
My story. Why is it always my story? You have the video and probably audio. "I said he'd thought wrong. He said I sounded like his father."
"How so?"
"That's what I said. Calder told me his father used to tell him to follow the rules to get the best outcomes. When Calder didn't, his father told him he'd thought wrong. His father lost his job because he followed the rules but, apparently, kept telling Calder this whenever he made a mistake."
"And then?"
"I told him his father was a wise man. And he said I was right. That even when his father wasn't right, he was right—patient, calm, precise. Then he took out his watch and told me how his life fell apart after his father lost his job. Big sob story. His grandfather gave it to his father, who gave it to him. His father died on some relative's couch."
"Is that all?"
"No, he said his father told him to believe in the system, and that his father couldn't answer when he asked if the system doesn't work. Then he said—"
"Go on," encourages Hinton.
"I was just thinking. Calder's expression when he said the next words. 'I do.' It was…different."
"What about it?"
"Until then, Calder seemed tired, like he was talking to me to pass the time. Then his expression hardened. Like he'd remembered something. Then he said I do. I don't know what it means. Anyway, I asked him about Doris's box."
"Doris's box?"
"You don't know? Her metal box?"
"No, tell me about it."
"Edna Fowler knows more. She saw Doris come home just before midnight and put a metal box in her car. Edna said the box had important papers in it. You didn't find it in Doris's car?"
Hinton puts down his pen. "You're saying we never recovered it?"
The moment lengthens.
He makes a note on his pad. "Keep going," he says in a quiet voice.
"Calder said Doris had lots of boxes. She worked in compliance and was always digging in boxes. Then he said things have a way of turning up when they're needed. And that's when he told me his father would want me to have the watch. I should take it as a memento."
"Did you?"
Nice try. "You said you saw the video. If you did, you'd know I refused. I told him I couldn't accept it. He said he didn't need it anymore. I'd have to wind it and get a new casing for it."
Hinton holds up his hand. "Casing? What about the casing?"
"He said there's a jeweler in town who can get a new casing. That I should have a new casing. To make it right."
"Did he say which jeweler?"
"No, that's when he pressed it into my hand and said please. Meaning I should take it. And that's when I got called up to the property window and fell down. Calder slipped it into my pocket, and I told the property officer."
"And he didn't say anything else?"
"Not to me. He probably spoke to the property officer."
"What did the metal box look like?"
"I never saw it. Ask Edna. She knows. Sounds like you need to talk to Edna again, and not just about the box."
"Right," Hinton mumbles, "the DA will love that…with the election coming, too."
"Well, if I were you, I'd get after that box. It matters. Doris was going to take it to the OCC examiner and escalate what she'd found. I'd say that's a pretty important fact. Right?"
Hinton makes another note on his pad. "Things get missed sometimes."
"And those things get innocent people arrested." And allow killers to set them up to take the fall.
Hinton stands. "Officer, we're done."
Right, the system isn’t failing. It’s working for everyone but me.