Wyatt - 03 - Death Deal (22 page)

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.

* * * *

Forty

Wyatt
heard her say softly, I didnt cross you.

I know.

She was sitting opposite him, a high
flush to her cheeks, a shine to her eyes. Her whole face was alight, as though
he were food and water to a dying woman.

Stolle?

Yes.

You know for sure?

Wyatt told her about Mostyn. Stolle
got away.

The cops have photographs of us.
Stolle must have been watching us the whole time and saw a way to intercept the
changeover and dob us in.

Wyatt felt himself stiffen.
Photographs.
What photographs?

He saw Anna check for curious ears
in the visiting room. A dozen small tables and chairs, some armchairs, posters
of rainforests on the walls. A couple of custodial officers joking with
visitors and inmates nearby. Chairs scraping, laughter, kids running around. He
was the only man but he was a priest so no-one looked twice at him. No-one was
listening.

Anna touched his sleeve. Dont
worry. They dont know who you are, and the pictures of you are blurred. You
interest the cops, though. They know Phelps and Riding couldnt have put this
together.

Wyatt stared at her hand. He
remembered her bare skin, its colour and pliancy. Then he looked up. She wore
an oversized T-shirt that concealed and flattened her body. It was torn here
and there, a washed-out shade of black. Loose, worn, faded tracksuit pants hid
the rest of her. Shed done something to her hairor had it done to her. A
brush cut on top, shaved close to the scalp on either side, woven tendrils
reaching down between her shoulder blades. It was a tough jailhouse outfit and
she looked coldly sexual in it.

What did you tell them?

Frown lines appeared between her
eyes and she pulled away. Nothing. I resent it that youd think I would tell
them anything. Thats why you came back, isnt it? Not for me. You wanted to
know how much they knew about you. You thought I might be a liability, might
swing a deal with them or something.

Wyatt didnt answer. He said, I
want to get you out. Are you okay for the time being?

Ive got friends.

His stare was flat so she
elaborated. Im not prison pussy, if thats what youre thinking. All this
she plucked at her T-shirt and touched her hairmakes sense in here, thats
all. And I kind of like it.

Wyatt said nothing. He changed the
subject. What did the cops tell you about the character who tried to jump us
at the bank?

They asked, did I do coke? Did I
smoke the dreaded weed? His name was Ian Lovell and he was a dealer.

Stolle wouldnt have sent him into
the bank, not when he intended to grab everything at the university.

Some kind of wild card?

Wyatt played back the fiasco at the
bank. He remembered the pointed way in which Nurse had emptied the banks
revolver into Lovell, as if something very, very personal was going on. I
guess so. It doesnt matter.

Wyatt, Im sorry.

Wyatt gave a short head jerk of
irritation. You didnt apologise for stuff-ups you hadnt caused. And the
stuff-ups you did cause should always have good reasons behind them. He said, We
have to get you out.

Again that frown, looking for his
motives. I hope this isnt just so you can silence me for good.

You want to stay in here?