The Prison

by Amy Cross

  “Great,” Marcia said with a sigh, “looks like we're pals for the night.”

  Glancing back through to the kitchen, Robin saw the knife still resting on the counter.

  Today

  “Tell him I'll wait all day if necessary,” David told Grace as he stood in the reception area. “Tell him I'm going to camp out until he agrees to see me again.”

  “If you could just make an appointment and come back another -”

  “He can't ignore me,” David continued, struggling to contain his anger. “I know my daughter is here somewhere, and I'm not going to go away and come back when it's more convenient! For all I know, he could be planning to cover his tracks.”

  “Take a seat,” Grace told him as she got up. “I'll go in and speak to Governor Windsor, and perhaps he can fit you in.”

  “Fit me in? Oh yeah, he's going to fit me in alright. Tell him I'm onto him. Tell him I'll take this mess all the way to the media if necessary. Tell him I've already got one inside source right her at the prison who's directly contradicted all the bullshit I heard earlier!”

  As Grace headed through to the governor's office, David walked to the sofa in the corner before turning and making his way out into the corridor. Too frustrated and anxious to sit down, he paced over to the window and looked out at the yard for a moment, running through the possibilities in his mind. He didn't want to admit it to himself, not yet, but he was starting to feel as if something was seriously wrong. There seemed to be no reason for anyone to lie about his daughter's whereabouts, not unless there'd been some kind of accident.

  Spotting movement in the corner of his eye, he turned and looked along the next corridor, only to see to his surprise that a young girl was standing a little way off, staring directly at him.

  “Hey,” he said after a moment, feeling a little uneasy. “You okay?”

  He waited, but the girl simply continued to stare at him.

  Smiling uncomfortably, David couldn't help but notice that the girl's clothes were old and faded, and that there were dark rings under her eyes.

  “You here to visit?” he asked.

  No response.

  “Here with family?”

  Again, no reply.

  “This isn't really a place for kids,” he continued, taking a few steps toward her before stopping as he realized that the air was getting much colder. “Then again, it's not a place for anyone at all. Are you lost? Do you need me to help you find someone?”

  Crouching down in front of the girl, he couldn't help but feel a shiver pass through his body. There was something chilling about her eyes, as if they were filled with anger.

  “What's your name?” he asked, forcing a smile. “I'm David.”

  The girl opened her mouth a little, almost as if she was going to say something, but no words left her lips.

  “Come on,” he continued, getting to his feet and holding his hand out to her. “Let's go and see if the useless idiots around this place can at least help you find your Mummy or Daddy, yeah? We can't just have you wandering the corridors.”

  He waited for her to take his hand.

  “Just follow me,” he added, turning and making his way along the corridor. When he got to the door that led into the reception area, however, he looked back and saw that the girl hadn't moved. She was still just watching him. “Come on,” he called out to her. “Seriously, there's no point just standing there. I know you've probably been told not to talk to strangers, and that's great, but there are people in here who can help you.”

  He waited.

  “Okay, hang on,” he muttered, heading into the room and hitting the buzzer on Grace's desk. “Goddamn place,” he added under his breath. “I swear I've never -”

  “The governor will see you now,” Grace told him as she stepped out from the adjoining room. “He's found time in his busy schedule and -”

  “There's a kid out there,” he replied tersely. “A little girl, standing in the corridor. Don't you think someone should go out and check if she's okay?”

  Grace stared at him for a moment. “Excuse me?”

  “Jesus, is it that hard to understand? There is a small child standing in the corridor out there, and I think she's lost or something 'cause she doesn't seem to know where to go. I figured you should probably check on her.” Heading back to the door, he looked out into the corridor, only to find that the girl was nowhere to be seen.

  “There's no-one here,” Grace said as she joined him.

  “But she was -”

  “I can't do anything if she's not there,” she added.

  “So you're just gonna let a kid go wandering around in a prison?” he asked incredulously.

  “Of course not, but I don't see a child. Do you?”

  “Mr. Bradford,” the governor said suddenly, stepping out of his office. “I understand that you wish to speak to me again?”

  “This place is off,” David told Grace. “You've got a weird set-up going on, I can smell it a mile off.”

  “Really? I hadn't noticed.”

  Turning to the governor, David pulled the pieces of paper from his pocket and headed to the desk before dropping them one by one them into the bin.

  “I don't need these,” he said calmly. “You know why? Because they're just copies, and the originals are lodged with various court and police offices, so there's an official paper trail that shows my daughter coming to this prison. There are also witnesses, Mr. Windsor, who have told me personally that they saw her here.”

  “Really? And who might have said such things?”

  “That's for me to know,” David continued, “but I swear to God, I am not going to let my daughter just disappear. I want to see her now!”

  “Please,” the governor replied, “why don't we step into my office?”

  “So you can lie to me some more?”

  “Mr. Bradford -”

  “I've spoken to someone who saw Christine arriving,” he added.

  “That's quite impossible.”

  “I don't know what the hell is going on here,” David continued, “and I don't think for one moment that you're gonna tell me, but that's okay, I've already got more than enough to get the authorities involved. You said you've never had children, Mr. Windsor, and that really shows. It's almost as if you think I'll just shrug my shoulders and walk away, like I'll forget that Christine ever existed, but you're wrong. She's a difficult kid and we've had our problems, but I'm her father and I love her, so there's no way I'm going to abandon her.”

  “Please come into my office,” the governor replied, “and we'll try to come to an understanding. It will be much more civilized if we can talk privately.”

  “Save it,” David told him, taking a step back. “I don't need your lies.” Turning, he headed to the door, only to find a middle-aged woman standing in his way, smiling at him.

  “Mr. Bradford, I believe,” she said holding out a plastic-gloved hand for him to shake. “My name is Doctor Deborah Bell, I'm the chief medical officer at Hardstone. I'm terribly sorry if there has been some confusion, but I think I can clear everything up. Why don't you follow me?”

  “Why would I do that?” he asked cautiously.

  “Because I'm going to take you to see Christine,” she replied with a smile. “Isn't that what you wanted?”

  ***

  “When she was brought here,” Doctor Bell explained, leading David into the main examination room, “Christine unfortunately had to be brought straight here to the medical department due to certain withdrawal issues she was experiencing. This meant that her documents weren't processed in the usual way and that, in turn, caused the system to incorrectly log her arrival since the relevant paperwork stalled on my desk. I'm afraid you'll just have to accept my profuse apologies.”

  “Where is she?” David asked, looking around the room but seeing just a few empty beds.

  “I'll take you through to her in a moment, but first I need to talk to you about her condition.”

  “
I want to see her now. No more bullshit.”

  “Please,” she continued, gesturing toward her desk, “won't you sit down?”

  “What was that old fool going on about earlier?” he asked as he took a seat. “Governor Windsor was going on about Christine having been caught up in some kind of terrorist operation. I knew it couldn't be true, but was he just flat-out lying to cover the fact that he thought he'd lost her?”

  “I can't imagine,” she replied, sitting opposite him and taking a moment to look at the papers on her desk. “To tell you the truth, Governor Windsor can be rather forgetful at times and he's fond of the occasional flight of fancy. He's not the youngest man in the world, and I feel his age is catching up to him. Still, he's done very good work here, I'm sure. Some people even think he might be headed for a knighthood when the next honors list comes out.”

  “Is she okay?”

  “Your daughter?” She paused. “She's going to be fine, Mr. Bradford, of that you have my absolute word. It's just that in the period of time between her trial ending and her transfer to us here at Hardstone, she developed certain... health problems related to her substance abuse. It would seem that she has been using a variety of drugs for many years, and her body has begun to show signs of wear and tear.”

  “We tried to get her off that stuff,” he replied, interrupting her. “I don't want you thinking that we're bad parents. I swear, we did everything to...” His voice trailed off for a moment. “We tried, we really did, but she just wouldn't listen...”

  “I understand,” she said calmly, offering him a reassuring smile. “I've been around enough cases over the years to know that the parents often go through quite terrible periods as they watch a loved one struggling with something like this. That's one of the reasons why I was so keen to help Christine and get her back on her feet. I saw on her form that there were no family contact numbers, which made me worry that she'd fallen out of contact with you.”

  “Things became difficult.”

  She nodded.

  “Family means everything to us,” he added. “We have to find her again.”

  “Of course. I completely understand.” She took a look at one of the forms on her desk, before turning it over. “Your daughter began to hallucinate shortly after her arrival here at Hardstone, and unfortunately she became convinced that... Well, to be honest, we don't know exactly what she thought she saw, but whatever it was, it must have been absolutely horrendous, because she caused herself some serious injuries. She seems to have been driven by whatever she thought she was seeing.”

  “What kind of injuries?”

  At this question, Doctor Bell paused, as if she wasn't quite sure how to explain the situation.

  “What kind of injuries?” David asked again. “What's happened to her?”

  “Perhaps I'd better show you,” she replied, getting to her feet. “She's in one of the side rooms, and I'm keeping her heavily sedated at the moment so that she doesn't have to deal with the pain, so you won't actually be able to talk to her. I know that must seem unfortunate, but it's for her own good.”

  “Why isn't she in a proper hospital?”

  “We have everything here that Christine needs,” she told him as she unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing the darkness of the room inside. “Would you like me to come inside with you, or should I wait out here?”

  “I want to be alone with my daughter,” he replied, pushing past her.

  “As you wish,” she replied with a smile, pulling the door shut and quietly turning the key in the lock.

  ***

  “Hey!” David called out as he flicked the light switch several times, without any luck. “It's dark in here!”

  Looking across the room, he realized there was a bed over by the far wall. The only light came from a small high window that had been partially covered by a section of chip-board, but as he made his way across the room, David was just about able to see that the bed was empty.

  “Christine?” he called out, reaching down and touching the ruffled sheets and finding that there was still a little warmth. “Christine, where -”

  Hearing a noise nearby, he turned and saw to his shock that there was a figure in the gloom over by the door, almost as if it had been hiding from him when he first came in. Although there was some kind of dirty white bandage over the figure's face, there was something about its height and its way of standing that David immediately recognized. Taking a deep breath, he felt a sense of deep sorrow in his chest.

  “Christine?”

  He hurried toward her, but he stopped as he saw that there was thick, dried blood all over the bandage that covered her face. All he could do was stare in horror at the sight before him.

  “Christine? Is that you?”

  Suddenly she took a step toward him, swaying slightly on unsteady legs as she let out a faint moan. Reaching out, she seemed to be trying to grab hold of him, but with bandages over her face she could only stumble in the direction of the bed before bumping into the wall and turning.

  “It's me!” he told her, hurrying after her and grabbing her arm to steady her. “Christine, it's -”

  Swinging her arm toward him, she hit him in the side of the face, knocking him a few steps back.

  “Christine, it's me!” he shouted. “What the hell's wrong with you? What have they done to you?”

  He stopped as she turned to him, and he realized with shock that her face was unusually flat, as if there was no nose under the bandage. Fresh blood seemed to still be leaking through the fabric, particularly from around her eyes.

  “I'm going to get help,” he told her, hurrying to the door, only to find that it was locked. “Let me out of here!” he shouted, banging for attention. “I need help! There's something wrong with my daughter! She's hurt, she needs -”

  Hearing something over his shoulder, he turned just in time for Christine to swing the bed's metal head-rest straight at him, catching him on the side of the temple and sending him crashing down to the floor. Still groaning with pain, Christine knelt next to him and spent several minutes crushing his skull with the head-rest, only stopping with the resulting pool of blood and cranial fluid had spread as far as her own knees.

  Finally, dropping the head-rest, she leaned back against the wall and let out a different kind of groan, one that seemed softer and more sorrowful. It was almost as if she was trying to cry.

  A few moments later, there was a clicking sound nearby and the door was unlocked. Peering inside, Doctor Bell stared at the horrific scene for a moment.

  “Is everything okay?” she asked calmly. “I thought I heard a commotion.”

  She looked down at what was left of David Bradford. The man's head had been cracked open, with the contents spilling out onto the floor.

  “Right,” Doctor Bell said finally, turning to look over at Christine, “it looks like you've made quite a mess here, young lady. I do hope that I wasn't your intended victim, that this wasn't some kind of attempt to fight back at me. I suppose that makes sense, though. Maybe if I hadn't plugged your ears so effectively with those cotton buds, you would have heard his voice before it was too late. Still...”

  Reaching into her pocket, she took out a pair of tweezers.

  “I'm sure you'll be so very happy when you realize what you've really done.”

  ***

  “People will come looking for him,” Governor Windsor pointed out a short while later, as he watched Doctor Bell zipping David Bradford's corpse into a bag. “The guy has a family, friends... He can't just disappear without there being any questions. You've turned one problem into two!”

  “Of course they'll come looking,” she replied calmly. “They'll look everywhere, but it'll take quite some time before anyone starts thinking that he might have had something bad happen to him while he was here. The police investigation will plod along at an exceedingly slow pace, and they'll pursue all the most obvious angles first. Meanwhile, I'll dispose of his mobile phone somewhere interesting, some
where that leads them on even more of a wild goose chase. It'll be months before they work out that he ended up here.”

  “But they'll still be onto us eventually!”

  “Not before it's too late,” she replied, getting to her feet and grabbing hold of the leather strap on the bottom of the bag. “By the time anyone links any of this to us, we'll be long gone. Hardstone isn't a permanent project, remember? We're here to do a job and get out.”

  “Some of us would like a knighthood on the other end,” he muttered.

  “Oh, you and your stupid knighthood.”

  “I want one, damn it! Do you know, it actually hurts when people refer to me as Mister Windsor? I should be Sir Alistair Windsor by now!”

  “Stop being so vain,” she muttered, as she started the hard job of hauling the body-bag across the examination room. “There are more important things at stake than you getting a trip to the palace.”

  “And you said that you did this to Mr. Bradford?”

  “Who else could have been responsible?”

  “It's just...” He paused, glancing briefly over at the locked door. “When you fetched him from my office, you told him you were going to take him to see his daughter. You sounded so convincing, for a moment I actually wondered whether you'd lied to me and the girl was still alive somewhere.”

  “Don't start getting paranoid, Alistair. It's unbecoming.”

  “What's in that room, anyway?” he asked. “I don't recall you ever requisitioning a side-room during our original planning.”

  “Please,” she replied a little breathlessly, before finally dropping the body-bag next to the elevator door and hitting the Call button. “I've never said a word of a lie to you, so I'd like to believe that these silly questions can stop. I told you what happened: I brought Mr. Bradford here and then I finished him off, for the good of the project. One life isn't really much of a sacrifice, not when you consider the potential our work is already showing.”

  “I hope you're right,” he told her.