Cold Deception (25 page)

The transport to jail was as bad as she thought it would be. She was locked in a compartment away from the male prisoners being escorted to Silverwater but the sounds of distress were unavoidable. Crying, yelling, vomiting, people coming off drugs or having a psychotic breakdown, all that in one metal van heading down the highway to Silverwater. This was the run from Bathurst and Lithgow so it sounded like it was a mixture of people denied bail in the local courts and prisoners being transferred from other jails.

She blocked it all out. Kept up a mantra in her brain.

This too will pass. This too will pass.

Finally, the truck turned in to the Silverwater complex then in to the Metropolitan Remand and Reception Center where all the men would be offloaded and processed. It took a while getting them off and all their belongings sorted. More yells, orders, and a few lags greeting others like old friends.

Eventually the truck backed out of the sally port and drove a hundred or so meters down the complex to Silverwater Women’s, once called Mulawa.

Julia blinked as she climbed out of the van and into the harsh lights of the reception area. Her legs were cramped and she stank of stale air and desperation. She wanted to throw up. All the memories of the first time she was processed into Mulawa clamored in her brain like psychotic birds with harsh cries and sharp beaks. Then she’d blanked out the horror by disappearing into herself. This time she didn’t have that luxury. She had to stay together to get out of this terrible place.

“For fuck’s sake, what’re you doing here?”

She recognised the prison officer in front of her. Collins. Not a bad one, rough, but sometimes helpful.

Julia knew in that moment she’d have to toughen up or sink. She shrugged. “Some people don’t like me on the outside. They wanted me back in and made sure that’s what happened.”

Collins scanned the list in front of her. She found what she was looking for and glanced at Julia. “Yeah. That’s what they all say. Come on, we better get you tucked in for the night. This way.”

“My family will’ve driven down with some stuff for me. When can I get it?” she said, half running to keep up with the PO.

“Later. First things first.” She opened a holding cell and motioned Julia in. “Shouldn’t be long. Not many in tonight.”

Julia sat on one of the concrete benches and nodded to the women in with her. She didn’t recognize any. One leant back against the wall with her eyes closed while the other two twitched and bit their nails.

“Fuck,” one of them muttered. “What’s taking them so long? I haven’t been dosed today.”

She got up and started pacing around the cell. The woman with her eyes closed opened them and snarled at her. “Sit the fuck down and shut up. Bad enough being in here without listening to your crap.”

The other woman immediately sat and didn’t say another word. The snarling woman looked at Julia with blank, dark eyes. Assessing her. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her. She leant back and closed her eyes again.

Julia smiled to herself. She knew women like this one. Tough, in control and would take no opposition. Out for herself and no one else. But if you cooperated with her, she’d leave you alone.

The reality of prison life hit her again. All the hierarchy, all the subtle and not so subtle cues about what was acceptable and what wasn’t, made her tired. She took her cue from the woman opposite her, leant back, and closed her eyes.

After a while, when all the other women were called and taken to be processed, it was her turn.

The strip search. She’d forgotten. How could she have forgotten that moment, that one event that tipped her over the edge last time. After finding Blossom naked and covered in blood, after the priest, after the arrest, after all the nightmare of O’Reardon and the police cells, the act of taking off her clothes in front of cold strangers shattered her mind for months.

Not now. She wouldn’t disappear now.

It will pass, it will pass, it will pass.

One prison officer in front of her, watching, the other behind.

“Open your mouth,” the one in front of her said. She did and made her eyes go out of focus as the PO peered into her mouth.

“Run your hands through your hair.”

“Now your clothes. Hand them over one piece at a time.”

She shivered but held onto her sanity as she removed her clothes and handed them over. She wouldn’t look at them, didn’t want to see what was on their faces. They peered at her body. Would they make her squat this time?

“Quick, get dressed,” said one, indicating a pile of prison greens. “We need to get you locked away.”

She dressed quickly in the green tracksuit pants, T-shirt, and sweatshirt, shivering with cold and fatigue.

She was taken into an office where a woman in civilian clothes was reading a file. Julia tried to stop herself shaking but the hard cold of prison had started seeping into her bones.

She looked up and motioned her into a seat, introducing herself as Chris, a welfare officer.

“Okay. Let’s get all this out of the way so we can have a chat.”

Julia stopped herself from rolling her eyes. She knew it was her file Chris had been reading. She was probably shit scared she had a potential self-harmer in front of her. Julia knew for the first year or so of her sentence she was nuts, so it was fair enough the woman in front of her would be nervous.

They went through a questionnaire about her immediate circumstances, whether she had children or pets that needed looking after, whether she had any support on the outside, whether she was withdrawing, hearing voices, or otherwise not traveling well. When Julia answered in the negative to most things except for support outside, Chris sat back in her chair and stared at her.

“So what happened? Why are you back here?”

Julia contemplated what to say. If she said anything about O’Reardon and his drug smuggling activities, she’d be dead meat. Not that she had any reason to think this woman corrupt, but she’d be obliged to tell security staff what Julia claimed. Word would get out. Then she’d be dead meat. In fact, it was highly likely she was in danger anyway. A convenient suicide from a woman who had a history of instability. Arrested sent back to jail. She needed to be alert at all times.

“They’ve charged me with murder. Apparently I’m on some vigilante kick.”

The woman frowned some more and stared down at the file. She hesitated. “The thing is Julia, the last time you came into custody you were very unstable. We can’t take the risk of putting you in the main without first making sure you’ll be okay.”

Julia’s blood went cold. She knew what that meant. Down to the MPU. The Multipurpose Unit. The dumping ground for anyone who needed close watching because they were mad, withdrawing, intellectually disabled, or all three.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying to remain calm. Any hint of hysteria would make it worse. “You don’t need to put me in the MPU.”

The woman shook her head. “Not a risk I’m prepared to take.” She stood and scooped up all her paperwork. “Someone will escort you down.”

Julia bit down hard on her lip to stop herself from screaming. She had to remain sane and calm at all times or else she’d be there for a long time. The bail application had to be approved. It just had to be.

“Do you know if my belongings have arrived? My family would’ve brought some stuff down.”

“I’ll check and let you know.”

Julia doubted that. She was pretty certain she had other things on her mind, like screening the next woman off the truck to make sure she didn’t want to kill herself. The property of a newly received inmate was low on her list of her priorities.

She was escorted down to the MPU by Collins. Silverwater Women’s was such a weird space. Old early twentieth century buildings with modern ugly buildings. Once it was the main jail for all women but now it was just a reception jail and a jail for the disturbed. Everyone else was shipped out to Dillwynia at Windsor or Emu Plains. If they were really unlucky they were sent to Wellington. She shivered. If the bail application wasn’t successful, that could happen to her.

The MPU was a low red brick wing behind a wire fence away from the rest of the jail.

“Don’t worry,” Collins said. “They’re all locked in for the night. They’ll tuck you in soon enough. Should be some sandwiches there for your dinner.”

At the mention of food, Julia realized she was ravenous. She hadn’t eaten anything all day.

When she entered the wing, the noise hit her like a fist. Even though most of the women were locked into their cells, they still called to each other, screamed, laughed, and generally made as much noise as they could. It wouldn’t last at this level. Soon they’d settle down, but all through the long night there would be one or two who would yell and scream, tormented by their devils.

But that wasn’t what made her heart leap to her throat. A small, blonde man was standing at the high bench that surrounded the officer station, writing in a file. Dr. Devlin. She wanted to throw her arms around him and beg him to help her. He looked up and did a double take.

“Jules. What on earth are you doing here?”

“Bad luck,” she croaked, her eyes filling with tears. “It’s a long story.”

Dr. Devlin glanced at the PO behind the officer station. “I need to talk to her now. I know it’s late, but this is important.”

“Sure, doc. No worries. Take one of the interview rooms.”

Dr. Devlin scooped up his files and motioned to one of the interview rooms off the main area.

“Can I take a sandwich and some water with me? I haven’t eaten all day.”

He nodded and Julia grabbed the package of food. Only a few hours and she was right back in it, obsessed about food and when it would arrive.

She sat at the table with Dr Devlin opposite her.

“What happened?” he asked.

And then it all came out. Everything. All her lies, evasions, and bad judgement. She gulped down her food and in between bites and swigging her water she told him the truth about Father Pat, about Angus O’Reardon, even about Dylan.

All the way down the mountain in that metal container, she’d resolutely thrust all thought of him out of her mind. If she allowed herself to think about him and what was between them, she really would go mad. But now with Dr. Devlin she couldn’t keep it back. Couldn’t hide how much she cared for Dylan, what had grown between them.

Dr. Devlin listened to her and grew paler and paler.

“You don’t think I’m mad do you?” she asked, a sudden spike of anxiety piercing her chest. “I’m telling you the truth.”

He shook his head. “No, I believe you. It’s too fantastic not to be true. Why on earth didn’t you tell me the truth all those years ago? I could’ve done something.”

She placed her elbows on the table and rested her head in her hands massaging her temples. Then she sat back in her chair. “I thought for ages that if I told anyone Blossom could still be removed and go to jail. Then, after I realized that wouldn’t happen, I didn’t think anyone would believe me.”

“Jules.” The look of compassion on his face undid her. She sobbed as she’d never let herself cry before.

He scrubbed his face with his hands and sighed. “Okay. This is what we’ll do. You’ll stay here tonight. It’s the best option. I know it’s awful, but if what you say about O’Reardon and drug smuggling is true, then you’re much more at risk in the main. Here, everyone is watched so much it would be much harder to do anything to you. I’ll ring your mom as soon as I get out of here and find out where the bail application is up to. Who did you say the psychiatrist was who’s seeing Blossom? I’ll talk to him about doing a report.”

“Sinclair. Douglas Sinclair.”

Dr. Devlin stilled. “Blossom’s seeing Douglas Sinclair?”

Julia nodded.

“No matter. I can find someone else to do a court report.”

“Why? What’s wrong? Why can’t you use him?”

Devlin hesitated. “He’s had some trouble in the past. When you get out of here, I’d suggest you find another psychiatrist.” The look on his face was stony.

“What did he do?”

“This is in strictest confidence.”

Julia nodded.

“He has a reputation for sleeping with his clients. There was a suggestion at one stage that one killed herself because of him. Nothing was proved, and he avoided being struck off the medical register. But I’d keep away from him if I were you.”

Something clicked into place in her mind. Eleanor’s fight with Father Pat. Her relapse. Dee’s dislike of Douglas. The earring. Even Sally.

She had to get out of here.

Dylan was sitting in the corridor at the Supreme Court in Taylor Square when his phone squawked. Lifting it, he saw Dee was calling. A spike of looming disaster filled his mind.

“Hey, Dee what’s up?”

His stomach fell through the floor when she told him.

“Fuck,” he said, more to himself as he stood and glanced around, looking for somewhere private to talk to her. He knew they were about to call him into the armed robbery case to give evidence. The only place was a corner near the entrance.

“That’s it? They think she did it because of the earring? That’s crazy. Hang on. You said she has no alibi between three and five yesterday. Is that what this hangs on?”

“Yes,” said Dee. “Palmer reckons she would have had ample time to find this John character and kill him.”

Dylan closed his eyes with mingled sense of dread and relief churning his guts. “That’s good Dee. That’s excellent. I know exactly where she was.”

“What? What do you mean?”

“She was with me. I’ll call Pringle and her solicitor and tell them. Don’t worry. Look, I have to go. They’re calling me.”

It took forever. Question after question, the evidence pawed over and gone through in minute detail. Everyone knew she was guilty, but her barrister wanted to spin it out as long as possible. Finally, after three interminable hours, they broke for lunch.

Dylan pushed his way out of the court, his finger on speed dial back to Pringle.

“What’ve you got for me?”

Dylan heard his commander and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he was in time. Maybe the charges could be dropped.

“Chief. It’s Julia Taylor.”

“What, again? She’s just been put on the transport to Silverwater.”

“Has it left?”

“Yeah. About half an hour ago. Why, what’s the problem?”

“She was with me. The time she was supposed to be killing John Melville. She was with me.”

He heard Pringle take in a deep breath. “So why didn’t she tell us that? What’s the big secret?”

“She’s trying to protect me. That’s what she does. She can’t seem to help herself.”

“Why would she need to protect you?”

“Because I’m having an affair with a parolee who’s in the frame for a murder.”

Pringle grunted. “Fuck me dead. What did I tell you? Leave damsels in distress alone.” He sighed and Dylan could visualize the look of weariness on his face.

“Have you finished down there?”

“No. The barrister wants to go over everything with a fine tooth comb. I should be out by three. Depending on the traffic I should be up there by five.”

“Right. We’ll see what we can do then. Her solicitor will apply for bail tomorrow. I’ll talk to Palmer who will no doubt want to talk to you. He may either drop the charges or not oppose bail.” He paused and took in another deep breath. “This doesn’t look good, you know. For you. But we’ll talk about that when you get back.”

“She didn’t do it, Bill. She didn’t kill the priest.”

“What? Aw, come on Dylan. Don’t go there. You can’t be serious?”

“I am. Look, I’ll tell you everything. But our friend O’Reardon is involved.”

“Then you better get back up here as soon as possible. If what you say is true, not only is the wrong person in that truck heading for Silverwater, but someone else who’s got a thing for knives and killing is on the loose.”

*

Dylan waited on the doorstep of the Taylor house, a sense of unreality making him almost lightheaded. For the first time in a long time, his need for a drink was a living, breathing scream in his head. When Dee opened the door, he almost grabbed her as the lifeline she’d been in the past.

“Dylan. Thank God you’re finally here. Come in, we’re just trying to work out what to do.”

Campbell Walton sat at Eleanor and Dee’s kitchen table and laid it all out for them.

“She has an excellent chance of getting bail. I won’t be able to make the application until tomorrow so she’ll have to spend at least a night at Silverwater.” He frowned when he was introduced to Dylan. “I’m not sure this is altogether appropriate. Is there a reason you’re here, Detective Inspector Andrews?”

“Yeah. I’m the evidence you need to get her out.”

He told them where she was and winced at the shock on Eleanor and Dee’s faces. “I’m sorry,” he said to them both.

“It’s okay,” Eleanor said slowly. “In fact, it’s great.” Dylan watched as hope dawned on both women’s faces. Eleanor turned to Campbell. “They can’t go ahead with the charges, can they?”

“They could try, but this puts a big dent in their case.”

“They won’t,” Dylan said. “I’ve just spoken to Palmer and they’re going to drop the charges.”

Dee and Eleanor grabbed each other and burst into tears.

“Well, this is excellent news, excellent news.” He scooped up his papers. “I’ll make my way home now Eleanor, and see you at the Parramatta bail court tomorrow first thing. Julia should be home by lunch time. A very unpleasant experience for her, but she’s a strong woman and will get through it. Now.” His gaze rested on Dylan and he smiled grimly. “Not a good career move for you, I suppose.”

Dylan shook his head. “I haven’t been suspended but there’ll be a disciplinary hearing. I could be then. Honestly, the only reason they haven’t suspended me is because they need all hands on deck to find the real killer. And I’ve got a pretty good idea where to look.”

“I’m sure you do.”

Dee showed him out leaving Dylan alone with Eleanor. He found he couldn’t look at her.

“You know, I’m not surprised,” she said softly. “Dee thought there was something going on between the two of you. I scoffed at her, but then I started to see what she saw.”

“Are you appalled?”

She laughed. “Why would I be appalled? You’re a good man and she needs some happiness.” She hesitated. “Is it an affair, a relationship, what? Not that it’s any of my business.”

“Are you asking me what my intentions are?”

She patted his hand and said nothing, just waited.

“I don’t know. I don’t know what it is. All I know is that I can’t stay away from her.”

She nodded. “Then it’s something. You’ll work it out.”