'I believe you,' Watt said. 'If you don't want to do what Caesar asks, that's fine by me. Generates a little bit of extra work, but that's no problem. I don't mind the work at all. Looking forward to it, in fact.'
'Right.'
'Right. Exactly. Better leave you now. I'll go find Lorna. You should help her to stop drinking, you know. Bit of a problem there if you ask me. Got to watch out for people with addictive personalities. It can be catching.'
'I am watching out for her.' Glass didn't convince himself, let alone Watt.
'Who's watching out for you?' Watt asked.
SUNDAY
Glass had checked that Lorna was okay, and settled in for the night shift. Put on his slippers. Yeah, sounds daft, but it wasn't just that it was far more comfortable: if you wore shoes, the noise woke up the inmates.
You wouldn't have thought that anybody would care about waking up the poor souls. But if they didn't sleep, they didn't behave too well the next day. So it was in everybody's interest for them to get a good night's sleep. And if you woke one of them up, he'd start shouting and banging on his cell door, and then someone else would join in, and then another and so on until the place was a deafening racket.
And they could keep that up all night if they wanted to.
The duty officer had to do a circuit every half an hour, so it wasn't as if taking a walk was avoidable. Some of the officers wore trainers, but Glass had never liked them. For him, it was shoes or slippers.
First night shift he'd done, he'd had bouts of tiredness, got heavy-lidded a few times towards the end of it. Never quite hit the point where he found himself jolting awake, but he didn't want to take any chances. Got to peg in. Miss a round and you got your arse handed to you. No second chances.
He'd learned, though, and now he took some speed before the shift started and got through it no problem.
He walked over to the kettle. Filled it, humming to himself. He'd get some strong coffee down him to top up the speed, then he'd be set.
The nightshift was a rare respite. It was good being alone. Nobody to hassle him. If it weren't for Watt being back on the scene, he'd be content. But Glass wasn't too concerned. After the incident at the cinema, he'd bought himself some time. Told Caesar he'd think about the escape plan.
He grabbed his mug out of the cupboard. Crossed to the fridge. Found some milk that looked okay but he sniffed it to make sure. He teased the lid off the container of coffee. It was one of those industrial-sized tins of cheap instant crap.
Oh, Jesus, no.
Tears poured down his cheeks. Couldn't stop them.
He put the lid back on. Couldn't bear to look at it.
Shook the tears out of his eyes.
A joke was a joke, but these fuckers were evil. He could imagine one of the cons doing it. Peeler maybe, cause he was such a nutter. But this was one of the officers, one of Glass's colleagues.
He opened the lid again. Looked inside at the tortoiseshell kitten. Darko's kitten.
Glass put his hand inside and stroked the fur on its back. It was still warm but it wouldn't be for much longer.
The way it was lying, jaw sagging, tongue sticking out of its mouth between sharp glistening white teeth, head to the side, it was obvious someone had broken its neck.
Fox, most likely. He hoped somebody broke Fox's neck.
Glass would have to be the one to tell Darko. Shit, shit, shit. He considered wrapping up the poor thing in newspaper and putting it in the bin, but Darko might want to bury it and Glass didn't want to prevent him from doing that.
He'd take the kitten to him now. Get it over with. Get that coffee container out of his sight.
Jesus Christ. These fuckers were total scum.
*
Glass realised as he was walking along to Mafia and Darko's peter that he was doing exactly what he'd said to Caesar that only somebody completely stupid would do. He was going to enter a cell at night without any back-up.
But, then, it wasn't as if he was being buzzed from one of the cells. No, it was his decision. Darko would be no trouble. He never was. And Glass had made up with Mafia, so he'd be fine too. But even if Mafia decided to try to escape, he wouldn't get more than five feet outside his peter because of his eyesight.
Outside the cell, Glass wondered if maybe he should tap on the door. If walking into their peter unannounced during the day felt wrong, it felt infinitely worse to do so at night. Especially when Mafia wouldn't be able to tell who was there.
He might freak out. Start shouting. Cause a commotion.
So Glass tapped on the door.
Waited.
Nothing.
He rapped his knuckles on it, harder.
Still nothing.
So he slid open the Judas window and whispered, 'Darko. It's Officer Glass.'
Heard a moan from inside.
'Darko.' A little louder. 'Darko. It's about your kitten.'
He heard some mumbling in Serbo-Croat or whatever Darko's native language was.
'Darko. Can you hear me?'
Muffled: 'A moment.' Then the padding of bare feet and after a second or two Darko's face appeared in the Judas window. He yawned. 'What is it you wake me up for?'
First time Glass had ever heard him sound foreign. 'Your kitten.'
'My kitten, yes.'
How was Glass supposed to tell him? 'There's been an accident.'
Darko yawned again.
Nothing for it. Glass would have to spit it out. 'The kitten's dead,' he said.
Darko yawned a third time, didn't say anything.
'Did you hear me?'
'The kitten's dead,' Darko said. 'And?'
'I thought you'd like to know.'
Darko raised his voice. 'You woke me up to tell me the fucking kitten was dead?'
'I thought, maybe, you'd want to …'
'Crystal,' Darko said, 'I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get back to sleep.'
'You don't want the kitten?'
'I don't want the fucking kitten.'
'You don't even want to say goodbye?'
'I don't want the fucking kitten.' He turned to go.
'Should I keep it for you?' Glass said. 'For the morning?'
Darko shouted: 'I don't want the fucking kitten now and I won't want it in the fucking morning.'
Glass slid the Judas window shut.
In the next cell Wireman shouted, 'Shut the fuck up.'
Glass tiptoed along the landing, hoping he hadn't triggered a chain reaction. But it was okay. No one else stirred.
When he got back to the staff room, he set the coffee container to the side. He'd bury the kitten on the way home.
He rummaged around in the cupboards, finally finding the clear glass jar the instant coffee had been transferred to. Somebody had written in red marker on the lid: Just Add Kitten.
By the time Glass had made his coffee it was time to peg in.
*
It was about two o'clock when the buzzer from Caesar's cell came on the alarm panel.
Glass wanted to ignore it, but if it signalled a real medical emergency and he failed to respond, he'd be out of a job. He'd go see what the matter was, and if he needed to open the door, he'd follow procedure and call the guys at the main gate to send someone along.
If Glass was lucky, it was a genuine call. Maybe Caesar had contracted some fatal disease and was puking his guts out. You could only hope.
When he got to the peter, he opened the Judas window and Caesar's face was right on the other side of it.
Glass stepped back.
Caesar whispered, 'What kept you?'
Glass whispered back, 'What do you want?'
'Couldn't sleep. Too much going round and round in my head. Come on in. We can talk in peace.'
'I'm not opening the door.'
'You don't trust me? I'm hurt.'
'Who you talking to, baby?' Jasmine said sleepily.
'Shut your fanny. Come on, Glass. This is stupid, talking through this fucking hole.'
'I like it.'
'Okay. You like talking through a hole. To be honest, that doesn't surprise me, you're such a tit. You want to know why I couldn't sleep?'
'Not particularly.'
Caesar grunted and continued anyway. 'Because of you.'
Glass said nothing.
'I'm not entirely insensitive,' Caesar said. 'I was thinking how all this must seem to you. How you must feel threatened and bullied.'
Glass said, 'I'm okay.'
'You're talking pish. You're far from okay. You're a fucking wreck and you couldn't get through a shift now without dipping into the shite you've sieved off for yourself. Must have your own pharmacy at home, right?'
'I haven't—'
'When you run out, let me know.'
'I'm fine.'
'Well, you know where to come when you're not. Anyway, that's not why I wanted to see you. I wanted to surprise you.'
Glass didn't like the sound of that. 'What do you mean?'
'You'll see tomorrow.'
'Don't touch them,' Glass said. 'If Watt goes anywhere near either of them, I swear I'll kill you.'
'That's right, think the worst of me,' Caesar said. 'I'm going to do something nice for you, Crystal.'
Glass tried to think of something nice that Caesar might do, and failed. 'Why would you do that?'
'Because then you might do something nice for me. I told you, I'm a decent guy really.'
'One who likes to play football with people's heads.'
'If you'd met that fucker, you'd have joined in the game.'
'I don't want any favours from you.'
'We'll see,' Caesar said. 'Ask around when you get to work tomorrow. I hope you'll like what you hear.'
He retreated into the darkness.
MONDAY
It was 9.30 by the time Glass got in the front door. He'd dawdled as long as he could after depositing the kitten in a hollowed-out tree in the local park, but he couldn't put off coming home for ever. Lorna was out and Caitlin was at school, so he showered and went to bed.
The bed was still warm, smelled of lavender.
He tried to sleep. No joy. The speed was still in his system. He lay in bed, restless, kicking the covers off cause he was too warm and they were making him itch. Then he grew cold and pulled them back up again. Kept wondering what Caesar had in mind. He couldn't think of anything Caesar could do that would be 'nice'. The crazy bastard didn't know what 'nice' was.
The curtains were closed but light blasted through them. He needed a heavier material. Something that would black everything out. He should write that down or he'd forget.
He should just get up. Admit to himself that he wasn't going to get to sleep.
But he had to try to get a few hours. Another night shift tonight. Four in a row, then three days off. Took some getting used to.
If Caesar really was planning something, Glass would find out what it was in under twelve hours.
Sleep. He needed to sleep. He had some nembies in the garage. Couple of those would knock him out in minutes.
*
He heard a door close. Wasn't a bang. Someone was being quiet. Deliberately so.
Lorna was in a good mood, then. He wondered what time it was but couldn't be bothered opening his eyes to find out.
He must have been dozing. Not asleep, exactly, even with the help of the Nembutal. But not awake either. Could have sworn the kitten had been licking his finger. He could feel a tingle where the rough tongue had been on his skin.
He yawned. Wondered if Lorna was going to go straight to the booze. Her 'new leaf' hadn't lasted long. He had to stamp that out. She was right. Sod it, Watt was right. She seemed capable enough but he wouldn't let her get behind a wheel in that condition so why would he let her look after a five-year-old?
She had to stop. She was dangerous. He'd told her that before, though. Hell, he'd tell her again.
Her footsteps approached the bedroom.
He braced himself. Could do without this right now. Maybe he'd just pretend he was asleep till he gauged what kind of mood she was in. There was no point talking to her if she was drunk.
What time was it anyway?
He forced his eyes open, blinked, looked at his watch. Made out the numbers, just: 11.30.
Early. Far too early.
The bedroom door started to open.
He closed his eyes.
Heard her walk over to the bed. Felt the mattress sink as she sat down on it. Felt her hand rest on his shoulder. Felt heat in his shoulder. Throbbing.
She was okay. Wouldn't touch him like this if she was in one of her moods.
He didn't need to pretend. He could admit to being awake, talk to her. Maybe ask her if she wanted to get in bed with him for a few minutes.
He turned, opened his eyes.
Jesus fucking Christ.
Scrabbled backwards, kicking his heels against the sheet, till his back was pressed against the headboard, knees tight against his chest.
Jesus fuck.
Jesus.
Watt stared at him. He had a gun in his hand. Glass's gun. He pointed it at Glass's head. 'Give me a good reason not to, Nick.'
Glass couldn't think of anything. 'What are you doing here?'
'Had to see you, pal.'
Glass shook all over. 'The fuck did you get that?'
'Where you left it.'
'How did … how?' He couldn't believe this. Didn't know how to feel, or what to ask. Wouldn't have been surprised to find out he was still asleep.
'How? Strange question. Maybe I know what you know. Maybe I looked. And I found.'
Glass pulled at the quilt but couldn't wrap it round himself any tighter with Watt sitting on it.
'And don't worry,' Watt said. 'I didn't touch your stash.'
'Why are you doing this?'
'Most folk wouldn't care. But you, Nick, you've got a genuine interest in people. I sensed that the first time we spoke.' Watt patted the side of Glass's knee. 'So I'll tell you. It's simple.'
Glass waited.
'I'm a bit of a cunt.'
'You're sick,' Glass said.
'That's possible.'
'This isn't fair.'
'Don't piss me off.' He looked away for a second. Then back again. 'Pisses me off when people say that, you know. You moaning fuckers. Complaining about things not being fair. Who ever said things were fair? All you arseholes think you're born with some kind of entitlement. You know what, Nick? Look at you. Beautiful wife. Lovely daughter. Perfect family. Hardly fair on me, is it? Where's mine?'
'Your wife and kid?' Is that what he meant? Glass looked into Watt's eyes, past the gun. His expression looked genuine. Nothing but pain and anger. Glass asked, 'Did something happen to them?'
Watt leaned forward, whispered: 'You think you know everything.'
'No, I don't—'
'Shhh. Just listen. Do you know why Mafia's in prison?'
'For murder.'
'And do you know who he murdered?' Watt's face screwed up for a second, like he'd just been shocked.
'Mafia would never do that.' Glass couldn't believe what Watt was suggesting. Mafia killed Watt's wife and kid? 'No way.'
'Ask him. Ask him what he did.'
'You're crazy.'
'Caesar warned me,' Watt said. 'Said Mafia was going to flip. You know, Caesar's never let me down. He's the one who was there for me, the one who behaved like a real brother. I asked him not to hurt Mafia and he hasn't. Well, not much.' He patted Glass's hand and Glass pulled it away. 'I understand you. He said you really loved Mafia. Cute little prison romance, he called it. But I know what it's like. I feel like that about Caesar. Nothing gay about it. Is there?'
Glass ignored him. 'I don't believe you. Mafia's not a killer.'
'Hurt like you've no idea to think that my brother could have done that. But these days I'm more philosophical about it all. I've thought a lot about death. And you know what I've concluded, Nick? Anybody can be a killer. Circumstances, you
know. Shit happens. You put your head down for a while. When you look up, somebody's dead. You know how it is.'
'No, I don't.'
'I think you do. You never dreamed of killing Lorna or Caitlin?'
'Course I haven't.'
'Funny thing,' Watt said. 'I have.'
'Get out. Get the fuck out.'
'I will. But I want you to have this.' He turned the gun to face the other way. Offered it to Glass.
Glass made no attempt to take it.
'Go on.'
'Why would you want to give it to me?'
'Cause I'm bad and I think you should shoot me. Before I do something I regret.'
They'd been here before, the first time at the Castle. Glass wasn't going to be dragged into this again. Maybe he should just shoot the fucker.
'You shouldn't be here,' Glass said. 'Caesar said he'd give me time to think.'
'Am I stopping you thinking?'
Glass reached for the gun. Watt didn't pull away. Glass's fingers wrapped round the grip. Watt's hand flopped down onto the bed. Glass's finger slid inside the trigger guard. The gun felt lighter than he remembered.
'Go on.' Watt wasn't smiling. He meant it.
'Leave,' Glass said. 'Leave us alone.'
'I don't know that I can do that. I've missed you.'
'You having fun? You enjoying this?'
'It's been a long time since I've enjoyed anything.'
Glass raised his hand.
'That's it,' Watt said. 'Shoot me. It's the only way to protect Lorna and Caitlin. Trust me. I should know.'
Glass's finger pressed against the trigger. So tempting. So very tempting.
'Did you check the safety?' Watt said.
Glass stared at him.
'Turn it off. Won't work otherwise.'
And Glass remembered Mad Will telling him that, too. Or had he imagined it? He flicked the switch with his thumb.
'At this distance,' Watt said, 'I'm going to make a real mess. Bits of brain all over the nice clean bedclothes. Can't be helped, I suppose.' He smiled. 'You going to do it, then? Or are you a ball-less mong after all?'
Glass pulled the trigger.
There was a click. No explosion.
Watt shook his head. 'Nick,' he said. 'You're just like me.' He got off the bed and walked towards the door. As he passed the dresser, he put his hand in his pocket. Took it out, and moved it over a bowl where Lorna kept bits and bobs for her hair. Watt opened his hand, and dropped in the magazine. 'Lucky I checked the chamber, too.' He dipped into his pocket again, pulled out a single bullet and let it clink into the bowl. 'I'll see you in your dreams, if not before.'
Slammer Page 10