White Eyes
Page 24
Chapter 26.
Nat was sitting on his bunk, shoveling food into his mouth as fast as he could. He hadn’t realised how hungry he was until the guard (Dolan?) opened the door of the cell and brought in what looked like Chinese takeaway, complete with chopsticks and prawn crackers, in to Strange. Three full bags worth, on a wheeled food trolley, with a built-in heating element to keep it warm. Strange had nodded his thanks and asked Dolan to bring something to drink (“a very good French red wine” as he put it) which Dolan had returned with. Nat had given up being surprised by these things, and had gratefully accepted Strange’s invitation to join him.
“Part of the service” Strange had said. “After all, you, or more precisely, your mother and father, are paying handsomely for our services; we are happy to provide extras to make your time here less demanding.”
And so, they had started the feast. Sitting side by side in the tiny cell, Nat had his food balanced on his lap because there was only room on the table for Strange’s, drinking red wine from plastic cups and eating as much food as they could. Or, at least, as Nat could; Strange seemed to be quite reticent, taking the occasional bite, but being much more focused on drinking the wine as quickly as possible.
“The prison guards. I can’t believe that they do this for you.”
“Surely you’ve learned by now, things are more complex than they may seem at first.”
“Well, yeah, but, you know, getting Chinese food and wine…”
“Very good wine”
“Yeah, very good wine, you know, delivered to your cell? Not that I’m complaining” he added, quickly, “but…”
Strange took the glass away from his lips. “Mr. Dolan realises, like all good entrepreneurs, that the pay of a prison guard won’t meet his lifestyle aspirations and therefore he looks for ways to achieve more. One shouldn’t stand in his way, one should applaud him.”
“Right”
“He understood that there are a number of wealthy people here. Not only that, but for most of them, their wealth is under threat. Of course, you will be aware of the laws that are now in place governing the freezing of assets until one can produce clear evidence that they are obtained through standard channels. A…”
A sharp knock at the door stopped him. He looked at Nat in surprise, as the door swung open violently against the wall and shook the entire contents of the cell. Nat’s Chinese food bounced off his lap, spun through one hundred and eighty degrees in the air and landed, upside down, back on his lap. “Ouch!” he cried as the hot food soaked through his already dirty jeans.
“Ah” sighed Strange, “a waste of good food.” He actually reached down to try and take some of the food directly from Nat’s lap with his chopsticks but stopped as someone walked in and stood in front of them, staring down at them.
“Having a party?” Maker asked in a sarcastic voice.
“Ah, Philip, how are you? Won’t you join us?” Strange asked.
Maker stared at him. “It’s Detective Maker to you.”
Strange opened his mouth to reply but nothing came out. Sensing himself at a disadvantage, and unusually with nothing to say, he filled his mouth with Chinese food, as Maker’s attention turned to Nat.
“That’s disgusting.” He indicated the mess on Nat’s jeans.
“I couldn’t help it, I…” Nat started.
“It stinks in here” Maker interrupted. He looked at the table. “Chinese food. I hate Chinese food.”
“A glass of wine, perhaps?” Strange asked, holding the bottle.
Maker looked at it. “Yeah, why not?” He took the bottle and drank from it, handing it back to Strange. “Thanks.”
Strange inspected the bottle, confirming it was empty and with a sad smile put it on the table.
Maker turned back to Nat. “Right you. You’re coming with me.”
Nat swallowed. “Coming where?”
Maker grabbed his arm, and with a force that seemed surprisingly easy given his thin frame, yanked Nat up to his feet and towards the door.
Strange was on his feet and on the other side of Maker in a move that surprised them both.
“Get out of my way” Maker growled.
But Strange didn’t move. “Where are you taking him?” he asked.
“It’s none of your business.” Maker turned back and pulled hard at Nat’s arm. “Ouch!” Nat cried as he jerked forward and then crashed into Maker. There was nowhere for him to go.
“Oh, but it is” Strange said. “I represent him now. If you’re taking him to interview, I have appointed myself as his attorney.”
“You have?” Nat asked.
“Quiet. I’m handling this.”
Maker studied Strange. “You’re not a lawyer.”
“There is no law saying that I need specific qualifications.”
“You can’t be his attorney. Inmates can’t represent other inmates.”
Strange laughed. “I’m sure you’re not suggesting we try and put that up as a barrier.”
Maker was looking increasingly annoyed. “He doesn’t even know that you’re his attorney. How does that work? He’s got a right to refuse.”
“Shall we ask him?” He craned his head around maker to look at Nat, who was trying to keep the pain from showing in his face. “Nathanial, would you like me to represent you? I strongly advise you to accept.”
“Ouch!” Maker had twisted Nat’s arm again, sharply. “You may want to consider that.”
Nat looked at Maker and then back at Strange. “Erm… maybe next time?”
Maker let go of his arm. Strange sighed.
“Clever man” Maker smiled.
“You’ll regret this” Strange said.