Death Deal

Thirty-nine

Anna didnt talk. Finally Van Fleet said, Youll be sorry you didnt, and went out the door.

A custodial officer took Anna down long corridors, past a methadone dispensary, a television lounge, a library, a room for table tennis and chess. It was recreation time for the inmates and she got assessing looks, a cool challenge, one or two grins. They knew all about her and what had happened. What a bringdown, someone called.

She passed cells on the long walk. They looked bright and lived-in, books and candles on shelves, posters and cuttings on the walls, tie-dyed scarves over lampshades, the intimate indentations of the owners body on bedclothes and pillows. The cell she was shown to was small and bare.

The custodial officer shoved sheets, blankets and a pillowcase into her hands and began to walk away. Anna said, What happens now?

The officer stopped. Evie will show you the ropes. Evie, come here.

An Aboriginal woman emerged from the next cell along. Young, large-framed, intensely shy, she stared at the floor until the custodial officer had left.

Pleased to meet you, Anna said. She held out her hand. Evie touched her fingers briefly, then snatched her hand away. She kept her eyes averted, smiling a little.

So, Anna said. She shifted the bedding from one arm to the other.

Evie looked up, unable to hide her curiosity. You done that bank?

Thats what they say.

Your feller got away?

I hope so.

Evie nodded.

They stood there like that for a while. Anna sat on her mattress, foam, the cover new-looking. She pointed to a plastic chair in the corner. Have a seat.

Evie sat and looked around at the walls. Ill have to start decorating tomorrow, Anna said.

I got some pictures. Till you get your own stuff.

Thanks.

Evie came back with a slippery bundle of magazine clippings: Madonna in a bra and jeans, grinding a microphone; Demi Moore naked and pregnant; a woman with windswept hair on a wild stretch of coastline; a sleeping Labrador bitch with a tortoiseshell kitten curled against her teats.

Thanks.

Evie was wearing a tracksuit top and fished in the pockets. Sticky tape.

Thanks. Thats great.

Anna smoomed Madonna over her knee. What are you in for? Is it all right to ask?

Killed me old man.

Really?

He come home drunk and wanted to put it up me tail and bashed me when I said no. I had enough. Five years of it, so when he flaked out I stuck him in the guts.

He used to hit you?

And the rest, Evie said. Five years.

You should have got a protection order. You could have gone to a shelter.

Evie shrugged. No-one told me.

How long?

They reckoned I meant to do it, Evie replied, so I got twenty-five years.

God.

Well, I did mean to do it.

The doorway darkened. The two women looking in at Anna wore amiably mocking expressions but underneath it they had a keen, hard interest in her. They were big, lithe women, one black-haired, the other tawny, hair that was cut brutally short everywhere except for long patches along the crown. Blue-black tattoos ran the length of their bare arms, from shoulder to wrist. Silence and power; Anna was reminded of a panther and a leopard and she went tense on the edge of the bed. She wondered if Evie would protect her.

The women came in. The fair one sat next to her on the bed. A grin split her face. My names Blaze.

The panther leaned on the wall and laughed. She burns.

Anna nodded at one, then the other. Anna, she said.

We know, the panther woman said. She uncoiled from the wall and held out her hand. Im Lauris.

Anna shook hands warily with both women.

Then Lauris pointed at the clipping of Madonna on Annas knee. Evie! What are you giving her that crap for?

A giggle shook Blaze, seeming to pass through her entire body.

Femming it up, showing her tits off. Get rid of it.

Anna glanced at Evie. Evie had drawn back into herself, shy again, looking at the floor. Anna began to sort through the clippings. A sheet of notepaper fluttered to the floor. She picked it up, saw broad, round handwriting, a few lines of verse that expressed a lament, an aching in the heart.

Evie snatched it from her, furiously embarrassed. Didnt know that was there.

Anna said, Did you write it?

Lauris took up a stance on the cell floor. The grin had left her face and she pointed her finger at Anna. Theres one thing youd better learn right now, lawyer lady. There are people in here who use things like that against you. Inmates, screws, they like to find personal stuff so they can twist the knife. Know what I mean?

Anna knew it would be a mistake to lose face, let herself be cowed. She got to her feet, her eyes on a level with Lauriss. And youd better learn right now that Im not one of them.

Lauris was expressionless. Then she shrugged. I guess well find that out.

Blaze said, keeping the peace, You write to keep yourself from going crazy. I was in solitary for ten months. All I could see was this star and Id look out at it and write.

Ten months?

Stress showed on her face. They said I was uncontrollable.

Lauris approached the younger woman, held her head to her stomach briefly, ruffled her hair. Blaze closed her eyes and the strain vanished from her face.

Then her eyes snapped open and she freed herself. Got any good books, lawyer lady?

Anna sat down. I havent got a thing.

You can have a loan of my Dragonspell Saga.

Thanks.

Evie said, I got Dean Koontz.

Thanks.

They were silent. Anna could feel the force of Lauris above her, the womans fearlessness and her black eyes.

Hey.

Anna looked up. Yes?

When we write letters and that, appeals, would you help us?

Official letters?

Lauris nodded. You need the right words. We dont know the words. A dictionarys no help.

Anna said, Ill see what I can do.

It works both ways. You help us, we help you, Lauris said.

Anna looked at each of them. They were watching her. Ive already had offers of help.

Blaze said, By Van Fleet, I bet.

Anna nodded.

Lauris said, If youre in with Van Fleet, thats it, finito. She made a slicing motion with the flat of her hand.

I told her to fuck off.

Blaze giggled. Bad news. Youll be cleaning dunnies the rest of the year.

Anna said lightly, Well, we can always escape.

They went still. Eventually Blaze said, You could, maybe. Youd manage on the outside. We couldnt. Where would we go?

Anna looked up. Lauris was watching her. She was like Wyatt, a mind prober. Then Lauris said unexpectedly, Well help you survive in here.

Survive, Anna said flatly.

Your looks, youre dead meat, fuckin A. Lauris reached out her hand and Anna willed herself to keep still. She felt Lauriss fingers pluck at her hair; the touch was gentle. Thisl have to come off.

Blaze giggled. You fem it up around here you wont last five minutes.

Lauris grinned. Im the hairdresser in here. Doing my certificate.

Anna weighed her up. All her senses were alert. The women made her feel wary but they were potential allies. She gave a short, abrupt, reluctant nod.

Blaze and Evie went with her to the little hairdressing salon the next morning. Lauris and one other woman worked there, hours 9 am to 10 am. Anna heard the scissors at the back of her neck, saw her hair fall until she was transformed.

After that, she wrote letters for them. She gave legal advice. She helped in other ways. Whenever she went anywhere, one or other of the three women stayed at her side. It was not a claiming gesture or an explicit warning-off, but the message was clear enough: Anna Reid is with us.

It didnt always save her. On Thursday she was standing in the refectory queue with Evie. A group of inmates jostled Evie, said, Where you going, boong? one eye watching to see what Anna would do.

The leader was a tall woman who called herself Petra, an athlete busted for supplying steroids. She wore a gym-slip, bottle-blonde hair cascading around her shoulders. Anna targeted her, ignoring the other women. Grinning broadly, she stuck out her right hand. This flustered Petra, who frowned, made to shake hands with Anna. What Anna did then was textbook smooth. She turned her right shoulder to Petra, simultaneously dropping, bending and reaching around with her other hand.

If Petra had been a small woman, it might have worked. Instead, Anna staggered and fell, and Petras crowd moved in, their feet lashing. Custodial officers broke it up but Anna was bruised and shaken and for hours afterwards she could hear Petra, feel the spittle on her face: Youre history.

She stayed in her cell. Lauris, Blaze and Evie had advice for her, not comfort. You didnt back down, thats the main thing. Youll get your chance.

Then, on Friday, a custodial officer sought her out. You got a visitor.

Anna had grown up in Brisbane but there was no-one from that part of her life that she wanted to see. She went because she was curious, expecting a journalist, a legal aid lawyer.

What she got was Wyatt, dressed as a priest. And the look he gave her was not a killers look but one youd expect with the words, Ive come to get you out.