by Herb Hamlet
“Yes,” she admitted timidly.
“Very well, then. It looks like I’m outnumbered,” Henry conceded.
***
After lunch on Sunday, Molly and Liam accompanied Elaine and Henry as they carried their suitcases out to the Volvo.
“It was too short, son.” Molly hugged him.
“Sorry, Mum, we are too busy at the moment to stay any longer. It’s a big case.” He noticed the mist in her blue eyes. “Perhaps next visit. Then I’ll have more time to show Elaine around Newcastle and catch up with everyone properly.”
“Yes, of course.” She wiped a tear away with her handkerchief.
‘And I enjoyed going to Mass.’ He grinned.
She laughed. ‘Off with you now,’ and slapped his arm with her handkerchief.
Molly turned her attention to Elaine, while Liam took his son by the arm, drawing him away from the other two. His eyes narrowed seriously as they always did when he was about to lecture one of his children. “I really like this girl, Henry,” Liam whispered fiercely. “In fact, I like her very much.”
“I’m glad to hear that, Dad.” A small smile played at the corners of Henry’s lips. “I like her very much too.”
“It’s like chalk and cheese comparing her to that snotty nosed bitch you married and divorced.”
“Not again, Dad. Please!” Henry looked away, shaking his head. “And I might as well tell you, Elaine is also divorced.” He went on to tell his father a little about her abusive husband. “In those circumstances, I don’t care what the Pope says. No woman should have to stay in a marriage like that. Only a coward would hit a female. What’s more, I always believed priests should be allowed to marry.” When Henry didn’t answer, Liam went on. “I’m sorry for nagging you, son.” He hesitated, trying to put his feelings into words. “It’s just that you seem so right for each other. I can see she makes you happy. Don’t spoil it, you hear?” Liam wagged his finger before offering his hand.
Elaine and Henry hardly uttered a word until after they had passed the town of Taree.
“You certainly made a hit with Dad.” Henry grinned as he watched the highway ahead.
“What a wonderful man.” She marveled. “Eight children and he treats each one like an only child.”
“What about your parents? You’ve never mentioned them.” He snuck a quick peek at her.
“Both killed in a car accident when I was eighteen - my Dad was Irish as well.” She looked out the window. “My sister and I went to live with an aunt.” She fought off the tears.
“I’m sorry, love.” He gripped the steering wheel hard. Me and my big mouth.
“That’s what made it so wonderful seeing your family like that.” She hesitated, a tear trickling down her cheek. “And that’s what makes it so hard not having any children of my own.”
Chapter Ten
When things are going well, prison life can only be described as intolerable. There are simply no words to describe an inmate’s lot when things go bad. Prison life had certainly turned bad for Jim. The newspapers and current affairs television programs were full of his impending legal action against the Department of Corrective Services and International Corrections. To make matters worse, the subject had become an almost daily topic on the various talk back radio shows around the nation. While most listeners had little sympathy for prisoners, they also agreed that no inmate should have to suffer the indignity and pain of being bashed and raped while serving their time. That was not part of their punishment. The editorial comment in the newspapers endorsed this perspective.
The impending legal action would be a watershed for similar cases in the future. With his decision to proceed with legal action, Jim’s life within Pukka underwent a quick and profound change. A number of inmates privately applauded his decision. However, they knew there would be repercussions if they showed support for him in any way. As a consequence, he became a pariah, virtually ignored by all and sundry in the prison population.
Sean heard the news and stormed into their cell. “Bloody hell, mate. When you do something, you don’t do it by halves, do ya?”
Jim could see the expression of concern on his face. “What are you talking about?” He lifted his head from the Australian history book he’d borrowed from the prison library.
“Taking legal action against the bloody prison system? They’ll do ya for that.” Sean flopped onto his bunk.
“We’re not taking action against the rotten bastards that did this to me. We’re taking it against the government and the people who manage this institution,” Jim assured him.
“That won’t make any difference to Lurch and his mates.” Sean grunted. “He told the bloody sodomisers to do that to you.” He looked unsettled by the subject. “Don’t you see, he’ll think the court will make you fink on him and those bloody sheilas.”
“Well, I won’t. The action has nothing to do with them.”
“It won’t make any difference to Lurch.” Sean’s eyes narrowed. “From now on, you’ll have to watch your back, mate.”
“Does my taking legal action make any difference to you, Sean?” Jim raised his eyebrows.
“Nah, mate, I couldn’t give a shit what you do.” He shrugged. “In fact, I hope you get a good settlement. I only hope you’re still alive to spend it.”
Jim was always impressed by the way Sean never admitted to or committed himself to anything. The experienced youngster was a fence-sitter, which he volunteered on one particular occasion, was the best position to take in a place like this.
Waiting in the queue for breakfast the following morning, Jim was joined by Lurch Lincoln and his two offsiders. The big man’s lips twisted into a sneer. “I just wanna let you know you’re on borrowed time, Rankin. You ain’t gonna involve me in some fuckin’ legal case that could change things for me here in Pukka.” His voice had an edge to it. “It took a long time, but I got it good in here now and that’s the way it’s gonna stay, you understand, you prick?” Lurch reached over and took a vice-like grip on Jim’s arm. In response, Jim lifted his table knife above the big man’s arm in a threatening manner.
A guard approached them. “What’s goin’ on?” he asked, letting his eyes roam from one to the other.
“Nothin’. We’re just havin’ a chat.” Lincoln released Jim’s arm and he and his two companions turned away.
The guard said to Jim, “Weston wants to see you, Rankin. Come with me.”
“I haven’t had breakfast yet.”
“Breakfast will still be there when you get back. If not I’ll get the cook to get you some.”
Jim entered Weston’s office, and the CCO made no attempt to disguise the contempt in his voice. “The daily newspapers say you’re taking legal action against the prisons department and ICS, Rankin. Some duty of care bullshit.”
“Yes, that is correct, sir.” It sickened him to use the title.
Weston glared at him. “You’re making a huge mistake in taking this action. By now, you should be well aware that Lincoln and his cohorts won’t let you get very far. The truth is, they’ll do you before the case gets to court.” Weston leaned back in his chair, his voice charged with menace. “And there’s something more important, Rankin,” he snarled. “I better not be involved in any way in this action or your misery in here will just get worse. Don’t forget, even if you win, which you won’t, you’ll still have to serve out your time in Pukka. You don’t want to suffer any accidents during that time, do you?”
“No sir.”
“Then back off and withdraw the suit.” He rose to his feet.
“I can’t do that, sir.”
***
The following day, Jim had the opportunity of meeting the barrister who would be taking his case to court. After introducing them in the privacy of the prison’s visiting solicitor’s office, Jud
y took a back seat to proceedings.
“Right, Jim,” Henry opened confidently. “Judy gave me a pretty good run down on what took place during the actual assault on you in the prison ablution block. To ensure I have all the relevant facts, I still need to hear it from you personally. It’s important you tell me everything regardless of the embarrassment it may cause you. Don’t worry, I’ve heard it all before.” Noticing how Jim’s eyes went straight to Judy and the despair in them, Henry turned to face her. “I hate to do this, Judy, but while Jim is giving me this run down, I don’t want you here. I’m sorry.”
“But...” she started.
Henry interrupted her. “Look, I just think it would be better.”
“Very well.” Judy looked at her husband expectantly, but Jim remained silent. She rose and without a further word, exited the room.
“Now Jim, I’m sure there are a few details you didn’t tell your wife.” Henry eyed him knowingly. “No man would under those circumstances.”
Jim looked away unable to hide his embarrassment. “Yes, there are a few things I didn’t tell Judy.” His voice caught, and Henry heard a sudden melancholy there, simmering below the surface. “It was so bloody awful.” Speaking with tremendous effort, he went on to provide Henry with a complete description of the attack. “This bastard, Lincoln, has threatened me if I continue with the legal action and so has Weston.”
“Leave Weston to me.” Henry gritted his teeth. “I’ll take care of him.”
***
After bidding Jim and Judy goodbye, Henry made straight for the administrative area of the prison and the office of CCO Weston.
Weston snapped his head up at the sound of someone entering his office unannounced. A powerfully built, brown haired man wearing spectacles, a dark suit, white shirt and a red, white and blue striped tie was bearing down on him. The man in question carried a black leather briefcase. “Who the hell are you?” he exploded.
“I’m Henry Flanagan, Mr. Weston,” Henry replied matter-of-factly, scrutinising the man seated behind the desk. “Jim Rankin’s barrister.”
Weston was clearly unmoved. “I don’t give a shit who you are.” He rose to his feet and glared. “You don’t just barge into my office.”
“I’m very sorry, Mr. Weston.” Henry made no attempt to hide the dry, sarcasm in his tone. “I had no time to make an appointment.” He leaned forward, placing the palms of his hands on the desk. “I have a little warning for you.”
He shot Henry an uneasy look. “And what would that be?”
“I’ve just left my client.” Henry’s eyes riveted on the other man’s face. “He’s told me about the threats made against him by one of your inmates, Lincoln.” His eyes narrowed. “And he has also told me of your veiled threats should the legal action proceed.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The falter in Weston’s eyes was fleeting, but Henry caught it. “Oh, I think you do, Mr. Weston. I think you do.” Cross examining individuals from all sectors of society had left Henry with an uncanny ability to detect an untruth in a statement. “As soon as I leave Pukka, I shall inform a number of media outlets of the threats made against my client’s life. The story will certainly make the front page of tomorrow’s dailies and will probably be a leading item on the television news tonight. Everyone will know of the threats made against my client, you know, important people, like the Premier, the Minister for Corrections, the State Director. Should something unfortunate happen to him, there’ll be hell to pay. And who do you think everyone will blame?”
“Why aren’t you talking to the bloody Chief Executive Officer?” Weston snarled, pointing down the corridor. “He’s the person in charge here at Pukka.”
“Because the CEO is simply a figure-head where this establishment is concerned.” Henry’s scowl deepened. “It’s you who runs this place and it’s you I’ll take to court should anything happen to Jim.” Henry’s face set as hard as stone.
“You shyster bastard.” Weston slumped into his chair.
“I’d be very careful if I were you, my friend. “Henry wagged a finger. “First of all, I’m a very honest member of the law fraternity and I can supply witnesses to that effect. Secondly, my parents were well and truly married when I was born.” His icy stare melted into the warmest of smiles.
“Get out!” Weston bellowed.
“I’ll be off when I’m well and truly ready, Mr. Weston.” He eyeballed the CCO. “Before I go, I want to make you aware of my demands where James Rankin’s security is concerned. I want you to immediately isolate him from the mainstream prison population so no one can get to him. In other words, I want him in protective custody. Is that understood?” After no reply, he asked the question in a louder voice. “Is that bloody well understood, Weston?”
“Yes!” he snapped impatiently. “Now get the fuck out of my office.”
***
Sitting at his desk, the leading article in the morning newspaper caught Henry’s attention, the news hitting him like an avalanche. “The rotten bastards!” He slammed the Courier-Mail down in disgust just as Elaine entered the outer office. Henry rose, retrieved the newspaper, and strode out to meet her. After placing a brief peck on her cheek, he drew her attention to the front page. “Have you seen this?”
“Yes, I read about it coming in on the bus. What are we going to do?”
“Rushing through backdated legislation to prevent prisoners from taking legal proceedings under the ‘duty of care’ provision. That despicable bastard, Lawson.” He was in utter incomprehension at the Premier’s gall. “He just can’t play by the rules. No, he has to resort to deceptive and questionable legislation.” Henry knew the legislation was conceived to prevent him from taking further action with Rankin’s case.
“What can we do?” She raised one eyebrow quizzically.
“There’s nothing we can do within the Queensland legal system.” He started to calm down. “I mean, it’s not something the Crime and Misconduct Commission or the bloody Ombudsman would investigate and make a decision on. We’re talking about actual state government legislation here. There’s simply no other recourse in Queensland.” For a few moments he stood in silence, thinking. “Once the legislation is passed, the only alternative is to take the matter to the High Court in Canberra.”
“On what grounds?” Elaine asked, her legal mind coming to fore.
“I don’t know yet, sweetheart.” He gave a grim sigh. “I’ll have to examine the constitution more closely and see what provision I can use to have the legislation repealed. Unfortunately, I haven’t had much to do with the Australian Constitution since my student days.”
“Canberra. That will be expensive.” She arched her eyebrows.
“It’ll be more bloody expensive if we lose,” he replied tightly.
“Then don’t lose.” She kissed him lightly on the lips before sitting down at her desk.
Henry smiled down at her. “While I’m in court today, darling, would you look up the number of Dick Argent in our office directory? He’s a retired detective. In the past, I’ve used him to carry out a few investigations and he’s proved most competent. I like to use him because he’s very experienced and he is a great bloke. Ask him if he can track down a Doctor Reginald Simpson in the Queensland medical system. He was the prison doctor who treated Jim Rankin immediately following the assault. He seems to have disappeared into thin air.”
“I’ll get right on it.”
Henry was pressed for time. He had other more urgent cases to attend to that day. He was defending a man charged with drunk driving, and was due back in court at three. The man had changed his plea to guilty so Henry didn’t think he would be tied up for too long.
***
Back behind his desk at four forty-five, Henry reached for the leather bound volume holding the Constitution of A
ustralia. He was soon joined by Elaine.
“I got hold of Dick Argent, Henry,” she told him. “He said he’d begin the search for Doctor Simpson.” She paused, a wry smile playing at the corners of her full lips. “I hope you don’t mind, I also had a bit of a look at the Constitution this afternoon while you were in court.” She pointed to the volume in front of him. “Go to chapter five. You know, the section on the States.” Henry turned the pages to the relevant chapter. “Now, go to subsection one-o-nine.”
Henry began reading the small paragraph. When a law of a State is inconsistent with a law of the Commonwealth, the latter shall prevail, and the former shall, to the extent of the inconsistency, be invalid. He looked thoughtful. “Mmm. We’ll have to check the Commonwealth’s duty of care legislation. If it doesn’t include prisoners, and I’m sure it doesn’t, then we have a case.” He smiled at her. “Well done, darling.” He rose to peck her on the lips.
“You can also check subsection one-one-seven,” she suggested, clearly pleased with herself.
Henry leaned over to run his finger down the page to the relevant paragraph. “Ah, here it is.” A subject of the Queen, resident in any State, shall not be subject in any other State to any disability or discrimination which would not be equally applicable to him if he were a subject of the Queen resident in such other State.
“It’s certainly not as clear cut as one-o-nine, but I’m sure we can mount additional arguments utilising this subsection.” Henry beamed at her, his enthusiasm mounting. “I mean if Jim had been a resident of any state other than Queensland, we could really go full out with the provisions of this subsection. There is also the additional argument that Jim shouldn’t be disadvantaged just because he is a resident of Queensland. The intention of our constitutional forefathers when they wrote the document, was for citizens to be treated equally regardless of the state in which they resided “ He slammed his hand down on the desk. “We’ll set the wheels in motion and request an immediate hearing.”