Betrayal
Page 1
MAX
Book 4
“Betrayal”
By
Simon King
Contents
By Simon King
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 1
1.
Remember when I said that everyone, whether it’s sentenced prisoners, those on remand, officers or even the visitors themselves are all caught within the chains of time itself? Well, sometimes time also dictates the speed with which it passes. Like when you’re sitting at a football match instead of the dentist’s chair.
The death of little Katerina Traiforous weighed heavier on me than most people. I was, after all, the only real connection to the murder who was left. Both Danny and Sam were both dead, while Frank couldn’t have been happier. That just left Nick and he’d remained in the hospital wing for close to a month before being moved into a smaller unit of the Palace.
I didn’t hear much more about him for a long time. I’m not sure why, but I think Frank enjoyed knowing that Nick would live in perpetual mourning for the rest of his days. It was what Frank lived for; a monster happy to inflict the worst type of suffering imaginable. I’m not sure whether he allowed himself to believe it, but things would never be the same between us. For me, the moral line had been crossed by a long way.
2.
Life in Yellow unit continued with its own repetitive cycle. Crooks came and went, some from the outside, others from within the prison. Sometimes familiar faces would show up, most times they were new. But everyone was subject to the same routine, regardless of who they were. You had to contribute the family.
Frank insisted on me greeting new arrivals, often assigning someone to follow me around. I kept my enthusiasm up on the outside, but inside I cringed at the mere thought of attending Frank’s cell or joining any of the group for meal times. All except Jack. He was one of the very few I still considered a friend. And that was because Jack was different from all the others.
3.
Sometimes planning for something can take up so much of your attention that you eventually lose sight of the end goal, too caught up in the preparations to remember just what it is you were planning for to begin with. That’s how I felt the day my world was truly rocked for the first real time since the Traiforous kid died.
It wasn’t even some major event, more like some piece of crap floating past your window as it coasted along on the breeze. I remember the moment so vividly; it still gives me butterflies.
It happened in early March, 2004, a regular morning that felt like every other. The reason I know it was a Monday is because that was the day Costa always did the rounds for washing. He was one of those quiet crooks that only popped his head up when he needed to. He’d joined the Cruds long before I ever showed up in jail, a regular in the unit since the previous decade.
Costa had waited until everyone had finished breakfast, then doorknocked the lads and grabbed dirty washing bags. It was how he kept himself busy, his way of killing two birds with the one stone. Not only did it pass the day for him, but it also put him in good stead with the lads, everyone appreciating his help. They each paid him with cigarettes or soda, a worthy trade for all concerned.
I’d handed Costa my laundry bag as well as 2 bottles of Coke, then closed my cell door and sat on my desk near the window. The sun was streaming in and I wedged myself into the corner of the window ledge, reading Jack’s latest creation. It was a book he’d written as a kind of prequel to The Shining. Although not one of my favorites, I loved how Jack could make his books feel as if they were written by the master himself.
So, there I was, sunning myself and caught up in the history of the Overlook Hotel, when I happened to see movement from out of the window. I wasn’t going to bother looking, the story at a pivotal moment. But for someone reason I did, something I’m now grateful for.
There was a prisoner walking along the path between our units. He had a bag slung over his shoulder, one large enough to hold all of his belongings. The person was either moving units or going home. It wasn’t hard to tell which because of the spring in his step.
As I looked and saw the crook briskly walking in the sunshine, my stomach suddenly dropped, a sense of dread and anger trying to push the anvil that I felt I swallowed aside. The crook turned to look in my direction, saw my face almost pressed against the window and laughed.
Rock McGovern never broke stride, his grin suddenly wide enough to flash teeth. And that wasn’t all he flashed; his middle finger suddenly shoved in my direction as he changed his bag from one shoulder to the other. As if to make sure I didn’t miss his eventual destination, he pointed in the direction of the main gate, then saluted me a farewell as the officer opened the gate leading into the gym corridor.
Rock McGovern was going home. The man who I’d been training to kill, who’d organised to kill my brother, was getting released from jail. I’d missed my chance to avenge Aiden, the prick waltzing past me like a man untouchable. I had failed.
Sitting in that window and watching him disappear into the shadows of the corridor beyond the gate was the greatest wake-up call of my life. I screamed at the window as the screw locked the gate, McGovern was now gone completely. I made a pact that morning; a pact that held true for every day since. I would never let another opportunity pass me by.
4.
With Nick and his brother firmly out of the picture, Yellow Block now had its undisputed leader, Frank running the show with an iron fist. A new bloke arrived a few days after I saw Rock skip out of jail; Russel Blackman reminding everyone of Tommy White. Same demeanour, same attitude and same build, although this prick probably stood a little taller.
Frank instantly took a shine to Russel, giving him the nickname ‘Nails’ because of his unusually long finger nails on one hand. They looked disgustingly long, with black crud underneath each of them. While most new Crud recruits took several weeks to get the nod for initiation, Nails received Frank’s welcome speech just 2 days after arriving. It was also one of the rare recruits he chose himself, asking no-one’s opinion beforehand.
The first I knew of the upcoming initiation ceremony was when Jack and Hal came to tell me the night before. While Jack couldn’t have cared less, Hal took it personal.
“He didn’t even ask us,” he sneered, pacing back and forth in my cell. It looked comical considering it took just 3 steps in either direction to hit a wall.
“Think he needs to ask your permission?” I asked and he stopped, looking down at me with a look of betrayal on his face.
“No, but it would have been nice to be involved. What, this fucker shows up and all of a sudden we’re all unworthy?” I could see he took it personal; Hal having been with Frank the longest. He’d gotten used to being the number one guy for so long.
“Give the man a chance. I’m sure he had his reasons,” I said, Jack watching us from the corner where he sat. He had a book in his hand, one I hadn’t seen before. “A new one?” I asked, hopeful.
“Nah, something San handed to me just before. I think he might be starting to write as well.” We’d made an agreement not to refer to San as my father. It didn’t sound right to me, plus not being on most people’s Christmas list myself, I didn’t want to highlight the fact willi-nilly.
“This new cunt had better know his place,” Hal continued, resuming his pacing.
“Give him a break,” I said, unsure why I would stick up for a bloke I hardly knew. I wasn’t sure why Hal was getting his pants in a twist, figuring he was suffering a mild case of jealousy. I was about to say so when a I heard a tap on my cell door.
“Yah?” I said and was surprised when Frank stuck his face in. Ha
l suddenly froze, his cheeks flushing.
“Not interrupting, am I?” he asked, stepping in.
5.
A silence descended over us as Frank sat on the edge of the bed. Hal kind of leaned on the desk and Jack slid across to the toilet seat, all of us aware of the previous few minutes of conversation.
“I’m guessing you boys might be wondering why I was so quick to pull the switch on Nails.” Hal went to speak something, but Frank held a hand up, silencing him. “I understand Hal, I do. I’m not always the most forthcoming guy out there and maybe on this one you deserve to hear my reasons.”
His words actually surprised me, Frank not one to explain his actions. It was his family after all and we were but mere minions, signed up to fulfill his orders.
“Nails isn’t new to me as such. He went to school with Danny, the pair good mates as they grew up. Danny moved to Melbourne when he was around 15 and Nails remained in Horsham. He’s practically family, guys. So tomorrow, I want you to treat him as such. Well, once his proven himself, that is. I’ve given Razzie the list of those going in each round. Hal, you’re second.”
He didn’t turn to me and I wondered whether he’d heard something before coming into the cell. I was sure I didn’t say anything incriminating but still felt nervous about it. Frank paused a second, then looked at Hal and jack in turn.
“Boys, do you mind if I have a quick word with Dylan?” His politeness surprised me further and I began to panic a little. It wasn’t like Frank to ask for anything. Hal and Jack exchanged a look with me then excused themselves. When the door was closed again, Frank stood and was about to start talking when the speaker next to my bunk fired up.
“Yellow Block, 10 minutes until lockdown. You got 10, Gents,” an unfamiliar voice boomed. There were a couple of blow-ins in the station that day, neither one of interest to us. When the speaker clicked back into silence, Frank resumed.
“I’ve managed to get you a job, kiddo.”
“I already have a job,” I said. Ever since Tommy and I had made regular rounds around the unit, I had been the collector of donations in Yellow Block. Although it took a bit of tough love at times, I managed to build some positive relationships with those I regularly visited for their donations, reducing the need for violence and intimidation considerably.
“Yes, and now you have another one. This one is much more important. Listen, Dylan, you’ve done a great job up until now. I need someone I can trust to do this new thing. Are you up for it?”
“Of course, whatever you need, Frank.” I knew there was no point in arguing with him. Once he’d made up his mind, there was very little chance of changing Frank’s mind.
“Officer Friendly has been transferred to a new unit and I want you to follow her. She put your name in the hat for a new billet’s role and what do you know? You got the job, congratulations,” he said, holding his hands out as if in surprise.
“What unit?” I asked.
“The medical wing,” he said, the grin murderous with conviction. “Think of the possibilities.” And just like that I’d been reduced to a pack mule, shipping drugs from one unit to another.
Part of me was angry, feeling like I’d been demoted for dedicated service. But before I voiced my objections, I suddenly realized that I would be away from the unit for the majority of the week. Why the fuck would I object? I didn’t want to be here and Frank was handing me a reason to escape, even if just temporarily.
“I’ll do it. Happy to,” I said, offering him my hand. Frank grabbed it, pulled me in and patted my back.
“Good lad.”
6.
I wasn’t there the morning they initiated Nails into the Cruds, but I heard the complete replay in my cell that very night, courtesy of Hal, Jack and Razzie. Hal and Jack did most of the talking, Razzie unable to speak courtesy of a stitched-up lip that Nails had busted.
The other 2 were also sporting their own trophies from the fight, Hal a beautiful shiner that completely closed one eye and Jack a torn earlobe.
“That fucker took down everyone, right up until the final round. Dylan, he knocked out 7 dudes cold,” Hal said, his face comically screwed up as he shared the tale. The other 2 were nodding excitedly along. Razzie tried talking at one point, briefly forgetting his injury, but I could see him tear up as a small sliver of blood wept from his lip. Instead, he nodded more enthusiastically.
“Glad that fucker is on our side,” Jack said.
“That good, huh?” I asked.
“Should have seen Frank. Couldn’t have smacked the grin from his face with a sledgehammer dipped in shit,” Hal continued. “It’s like he’s smitten.”
“I’m sure he is,” I said, laughing a little.
“So, where did you end up?” Jack asked once the story was all told. Hal and Razzie both turned to me, their interest evident.
“Got a new job. Up in the medical unit,” I said.
“Friendly up there as well, I hear?” Jack asked with a grin.
“Really? She’s up there?” Hal said, having been infatuated with the officer all through her tenure in the unit. I nodded. “You lucky fuck,” he replied, slapping my back.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to give her your number if she ever makes a move,” I said, toying with him.
“Yeah, I bet you will.”
7.
The job in the medical wing had proven to be a worthy replacement to the shit I used to do in the unit. Although the nurses mostly kept to themselves, they were polite whenever they needed to interact with me. There were quite a few things I was required to do that needed input from staff, but I almost felt like it was a proper job.
Apart from the colour of my uniform, there wasn’t a lot of difference between me working there and a real hospital on the outside. It actually felt half normal to go to work each morning. To say I enjoyed it from the very beginning was an understatement.
My morning began as soon as the prison was unlocked, making my way to the wing with the first wave of workers to leave the unit. Once in the hospital, I went and collected all the fouled bedding from the previous night and bagged it, ready for collection by the laundry service.
I then swept and mopped the entire ward, an officer unlocking each door that I needed to enter. Each cell had a different bed configuration, so the process was a bit all over the shop. Some cells only had single beds, while the others had 2 beds or sometimes 4 beds. They looked like regular hospital rooms apart from the cell doors that locked the crooks in.
The prisoners also looked like regular hospital patients, although some were kept separated from others. Boners, or Protection prisoners, were isolated from the rest. But unlike in a regular unit, no-one was burnt through their doors. My guess was there was very little tolerance for that sort of thing in there and most kept to the rules.
Once the cells were all swept and mopped, it was time for me to collect the lunch trolley from the kitchen. I saw plenty of regular faces along the way and enjoyed the fist bumps every few steps. I heated the food if it needed it as the officers conducted lunchtime count, then dished the food out and handed it to the crooks via the traps.
Once count was called correct, there was the kitchen to clean, followed by the staff toilets and common areas of the unit. I returned the meal trolley to the kitchen, then returned and waited for the laundry truck to show up. When it did, I helped wheel the used laundry out to the back door and helped unload the fresh laundry onto trolleys that I wheeled unto the building.
The rest of the afternoon was mixed between folding prisoner clothing and fresh bedding. I also helped restock the books in the shelves once a week and helped with sweeping the exercise yard out.
There was plenty for me to do, the jobs varied and never-ending. I loved the interaction with the other prisoners as well as the staff. Some of the officers were a little gung-ho, but others were friendly and easy going. It made the job so much better than I ever imagined. And throughout it all, I smuggled.
8.
Let me tell you about the actual contraband first, just so you have an idea of exactly what it was that was making its way into the Palace. We are talking cigarettes, not just tailor-made packets, but also pouches of tobacco, together with rolling papers. Alcohol, sometimes in little hip-flask-sized bottles, right up to ‘share-around’ sizes. There was always an assortment of porn floating around, whether it was dirty magazines, movies on DVD’s or photos from girlfriends, wives, mistresses or just paid hookers.
There were also the occasional ‘random’ items that people requested, namely from people like Frank, Clancy and other gang leaders. Cell phones was probably the most popular item. As well as the cells, there were an abundance of spare batteries and chargers as well. The funny thing about the cells was that you didn’t need to buy one to use one. The people that owned the cells would hire them out a call at a time, if the fee was agreed on. And fees weren’t always money. They could be cash, smokes, drugs, snacks, drinks or even hits and sexual favours.
Other random items that I came across included packets of food not sold on the prison canteen list, books, notes from other prisons, jewellery and hair dye. Yup, fucken hair dye. Oh Lord, the vanity of some people.
There were also the occasional weapons smuggled through. While knives, ice picks and knuckle dusters were the most common, it wasn’t a surprise to see a gun coming through. These were extremely rare but happened none the less. It really reopened my eyes to where I was. I even saw a few stun guns come through.
But apart from all of the previous items, there was one that ruled above all else. Drugs. The bulk of any shipment would be the powders and the pills that took people to happy land. Everything was available, regardless of your taste. If you wanted it, we got it for you. And how the money rolled in.