‘That’s yours. Don’t mind her on the bottom – she doesn’t say much but she’s harmless.’ A body lying still, curled in sleep and clad in the same dull cotton shirt and trousers I now wore. The warder’s keychain clinked as she turned and left.
The afternoon sunlight was still strong and white and now shone through double bars and dusty windows. The whole room was bland; dark grey vinyl floor, pale grey walls, pale wood and metal shelves with half a dozen books, utility table screwed to the wall, two plastic chairs and a bunk bed.
I dropped on to one of the two chairs and wiped my hand across my face. How in Hades had it gone so wrong? I didn’t know how long I sat there immobile with my mind numb. On the margin of my senses, I registered a hum of something mechanical and the twin smells of cleaning fluid and body odour. I couldn’t rant and rage. What was the point? I’d keep it for Caius. Galba had booked a visit for tomorrow. She’d better have some bloody good answers. I was not going to waste fifteen or twenty years of my life in a damned Prussian prison for something I hadn’t done.
A bell rang and the form on the lower bunk stirred. She sat up.
‘Who are you?’ Her face was blotchy with marks from the folds of the sheet on which she’d been lying. She blinked and looked puzzled. ‘Where’s Krista? Krista is always here. She looks after me.’
‘I don’t know any Krista. Did she leave today?’
‘Krista said she’d never leave.’
The young woman’s face became pinker and her eyes stared. She burst into sobbing. Gods, I was stuck here with a simpleton. That was harsh, but what was I supposed to do? From the half-opened door I heard footsteps outside. What was the time? I looked at my empty wrist. Did they think my watch was dangerous? I opened the door further. Women were assembling in the open area.
‘What’s going on?’ I asked one. She ignored me and walked on. A woman in civilian clothing was working her way around the wall looking into different cells and then glancing at a folder in her hand. She looked at me, blinked and hurried over.
‘Are you Aurelia? Aurelia Mitela?’ I nodded. ‘Charlotte Halversen. I’m your social worker. I’m seeing you tomorrow after your lawyer has visited, but I thought I’d check you knew what to do tonight.’
She handed me a plastic bag with a toothbrush and some toiletries. ‘They’ll bring your bag to you tomorrow after it’s passed through security.’ She was almost apologising. ‘Supper is being served any minute now, and after that the doors will be locked for an hour and half. Then it’s free associative time until 20.30 when it’s lights out.’ She gave me an overly cheerful smile and touched my forearm. ‘It’ll be a bit strange tonight, but we’ll go through everything in the morning.’
I nodded, but said nothing. I felt nothing.
‘Well, you’d better go and eat now. Goodnight.’ She turned on her heel and left me in the corridor staring after her. The sobbing from the cell pulled me out of my stasis. I crouched down by my cellmate who perched on the edge of her bed, hands each side gripping the edge.
‘Come on, show me where we eat.’ She looked up at me, her mouth open. She looked down at the hand I was stretching out to her and took it, heaving herself up.
*
A dozen women hovered outside, some murmuring, most silent. They looked as stunned as I felt. They turned almost as one as the gate was opened by a warder followed by two other prisoners pushing trolleys with steel containers, trays and plastic cutlery. Supper. My stomach growled; I hadn’t eaten since the chewy rolls sloshed down with watery coffee that was supposed to have been breakfast.
After the initial jostling by others, I led my cellmate, who was still gripping my hand, to the trolley. The taller server, one of the trusties, snorted.
‘See you’ve found a new friend, Greta.’ Greta bobbed her head, glanced fearfully at the other woman, then away and half hid behind me.
‘So what’s your name, then?’ the server said to me.
‘Aurelia Mitela. And you are?’
‘What sort of a name is that? Are you foreign?’ She stopped and stared at me, her ladle suspended in mid-air.
‘Get on with it, Eggers,’ snapped the warder.
Eggers plonked a ladleful of stew on my plate, along with potatoes and carrots. It smelt of nothing, but I was so hungry I couldn’t wait to start. Except Greta was still attached to me. I prised her fingers off but waited politely while she was served. Eggers put tiny portions on Greta’s plate and sneered. This was ridiculous. Greta was pitiful but didn’t deserve such treatment.
‘I think you have forgotten to put the full portion on my cellmate’s plate.’
The warder didn’t say anything, but gestured Eggers to do it. I looked at Eggers, daring her to refuse. Her face flushed red. She banged her ladle down on Greta’s plate, splashing the gravy everywhere, but deposited a full portion.
I gave her a little smile, turned my back on her and went to the table to eat, ignoring the stares of the others. The trouble would come later.
*
After the door banged shut and the warder locked us in for the night, I went through the motions of brushing my teeth and washing on automatic. I grasped the edge of the washbasin, braced my arms and bowed my head. Gods, this was exactly the same as being in basic training, but locked in. I hoped I could cope with that, but not the fear that had crept in and taken root inside me.
*
After breakfast the next morning, a warder took me to a small room near the prison reception containing a wooden table, two chairs and Galba. I was so pleased to see her I could have thrown my arms around her. I didn’t; she would have thought I’d gone insane. Her cherry red skirt and shoes and multicoloured jacket were such a welcome contrast to the bland world I was now inhabiting.
‘Salve, Aurelia Mitela.’
Why was she so formal? And she didn’t meet my eyes.
‘Galba? What’s wrong?’
‘Everything is in order. I wish to outline your defence with you.’
‘If you don’t come down off your high horse, Galba, we’re not going to be doing anything. Tell me.’
She fiddled with her papers, until I grabbed her hand and shook it.
‘I am disappointed you did not see fit to place your complete confidence in me,’ she said, her tone sullen. ‘It was only when I was going through your case with Tertullius Plico last night on the videolink that I learned about your unexplained thirty-six-hour absence.’ She glared at me. ‘Why in Hades didn’t you tell me? What were you doing in that time?’
‘Ah! That was private time and nothing to do with this case.’
‘Everything is to do with this case! Where were you and can anybody corroborate it?’
I stuck my chin in the air and shook my head.
‘I’ve lied in court for you,’ she said. ‘You owe me the truth.’
I felt the warmth rise up my neck. It was mainly embarrassment. It hadn’t occurred to me that she would be placed in an awkward professional situation. Stupid wasn’t the word.
‘I… I met somebody and spent some time with him.’
‘Name? Where can I contact him?’
‘I can’t tell you the first and I don’t know the second.’
‘You must tell me. This is vital for your defence. The prosecution will home in on it, no question.’
I shook my head.
‘Very well.’ Her lips couldn’t be more pursed. ‘I strongly advise you to think about this.’ She pushed a sheet of paper towards me. ‘Please sign this authorisation for me to act on your behalf in all matters. I realise it’s very wide-ranging, but I can’t keep running out here every time I need to do something for you.’ She paused. ‘You’ll have to trust me. Unless you want a different legal representative.’
I signed. She knew the system here and would stand up to the Prussians.
‘I found out via a contact in the prosecutor’s office that they intend to interview Kriminalpolizeikommissar Huber, then Grosschenk’s employee, Fischer…’
‘Who?’
‘The one whose jaw you nearly broke.’
‘Oh.’
‘… and Caius Tellus.’
‘I’m stuffed, then.’
‘Why?’
‘Caius will spin them such a distorted story. You don’t know how manipulative he is, Galba. I’m sure he’s behind this.’
‘Anything I should look for?’
‘It’s exactly his style to have put that bloody note in Grosschenk’s mouth. I know the police reached Grosschenk’s reasonably quickly and they only just got him, but why the hell was Caius still there, unless he’d been busy killing Grosschenk. I know this sounds macabre, but it would be a physically strenuous and tiring task. Maybe it had slowed him down. And he still had to burn all those transaction documents.’
‘I’ll look at the timing in detail. I presume you’re happy for me to bring some help in?’
‘Bring Cerberus from the Styx if need be.’
XVII
With her blonde wavy hair gathered behind an Alice band and her well-cut, rather prissy clothes, Charlotte Halversen was a nice lady with a nice face from a nice family. What she was doing as a prison social worker was anybody’s guess.
‘How did you settle in last night? Any problems?’
‘No, nothing significant. I suppose it’s a question of getting into the routine.’
‘You seem remarkably calm and this worries me. Do you realise how serious the charge is?’
‘Yes, I do. The most terrifying thing is that I might not see my five-year-old daughter until she is past twenty.’
‘Oh, I’m sure they will arrange visits for you.’
‘So you also think I carried out such a brutal murder?’
She looked down at her file and scribbled something.
‘Look, Charlotte Halversen, unlike many people who come to prison, I do not need any mental health medications nor do I have substance abuse issues. I have been brought up to be resilient. Apologies if I do not conform to the usual pattern of intake.’
She looked away for a moment, then met my gaze squarely.
‘I understand you were a diplomat, a trade delegate. Your file shows you had a privileged, aristocratic background. Such a life would not prepare you for prison. I’ve seen the self-contained personalities crumble within days. I don’t want to see that happen.’
‘Tell me, what do you know about Roma Nova?’
She shook her head.
‘We breed our children tough and expect them to stay resilient throughout their lives. It’s a pragmatic question of survival. And we’ve managed for over fifteen hundred years. I’m a soldier by trade. This place,’ I waved my hand around, ‘is not dissimilar to a training barracks apart from no kilometres-long forced marches.’
‘Perhaps, but be careful with being too cocky. Here we lock you in.’
I looked down and tapped my finger on the table.
‘Sorry, you’re quite right. It’s so frustrating sitting here when I should be out looking for the real killer.’
‘That’s the police’s job and they think they’ve found her.’
‘Them! They’ve taken the easiest option – foreigner, seemingly obvious motive, opportunity – without thinking it through. Grosschenk was a major organised criminal with connections into the highest level of local government. He was up to his armpits in silver smuggling with Caius Tellus at the minimum and possibly illegal trading. I was merely in his way. Tellus is now in prison where he should be, and Grosschenk should be there with him, not dead like a stuck pig.’ I slapped my hand on the table. ‘I’m an officer of the state working with your federal organised crime office. I’m sworn to uphold the law, not break it. And I’ve been manoeuvred in here. Doesn’t that seem odd?’
‘I can’t comment on your case, obviously. My job is to help you adjust to life here and prepare you for the next stage of the legal process.’
Damn. I’d made her withdraw into her statutory persona. She scribbled away on her notepad, then looked up.
‘The court has requested a psychological evaluation. I hope you have no objection?’
*
The next morning, I received two letters. Both had been opened and stamped by the court office as ‘passed’. I went back to my cell to read them. One was in a Foreign Ministry envelope, a snotty letter from Tertullius Plico’s secretary on headed notepaper, telling me I had been suspended from duty pending the outcome of the trial, and all pay and privileges were revoked. Well, stuff him. Then I saw the handwritten note below the signature block. ‘Don’t take it personally – it’s regulations.’
Humph.
The other, whose envelope had the post office box number used by the imperial family as their return address, was from Marina. I ran my fingers over the envelope, hardly daring to look inside.
Dearest Mama,
I hope you are well. Uncle Plico said you couldn’t come home yet as you had to stay and do some more work for him. Nonna Justina said it was very important, so I understand.
We went to the zoo park yesterday. I love the giraffes. Here is a picture. I have a puppy now. She is so funny and licks my face. I hope you will like her when you come home. We can take her for a walk round the farm.
I hope you can finish your work soon. I miss you.
Love from Marina
xxx
I stared at the painful writing, the grinning giraffe, laid my face on my arms on the ugly table and sobbed my guts out.
*
A hand shook my shoulder.
‘Relia.’
Greta. Piss off, I thought, but I looked up at her, hoping I wasn’t scowling.
‘Relia, there are some people looking for you.’
I stuffed Marina’s letter under the book on the table, brushed my hand across my face and stood, just in time to see Eggers and another woman push Greta aside as they forced their way in.
‘You, Mitela, come with us.’
They stood at close right angles to each other, allowing no escape, and hands ready to grab me. My heart sped up instantly. I automatically shifted my weight on to the balls of my feet and flexed my fingers. Both were heavily built, but running to fat. So not such a problem. But I was sure that the penalties for fighting in prison were severe. I took a breath to calm my response down.
‘And why is that?’ I contented myself with saying.
Eggers’ hand swung up as if to strike my face, but I blocked her, twisted her wrist back and stamped hard on her foot. The other woman moved forward, but found my fingers jabbing her thorax. She bent over and coughed violently. I wanted to smile at the two of them squirming, but kept my face impassive.
‘Now, shall we start again?’
‘The boss wants to see you,’ Eggers muttered.
Eggers limped in front of me. Even in the lightweight plimsolls, I’d given her something to think about. Sadly, I was sure I’d have a bruise on the sole of my own foot later. The warder was impassive as she unlocked the gate leading from our section and gave Eggers the tiniest of nods. It was free associative time, but the warder was a little too compliant, I thought.
The circular hallway was unfurnished apart from two plastic-covered easy chairs with a small table between them. A brunette, around fifty and wearing prisoner uniform, was sitting in the right-hand chair and smoking a cigarette in this non-smoking facility. Behind her chair, two further prisoners hovered in attendance.
Eggers and her companion stepped aside once we reached the seated woman. She looked up at me, a hard expression on her over-made-up face. I stared back, straight into her eyes, and waited. After a full minute, she glanced down, stubbed her cigarette out in the empty jar lid on the table and flicked her fingers at me.
‘Sit,’ she commanded.
I sat opposite her, leant back and crossed my legs.
‘You’re a cool bitch, aren’t you?’ she remarked.
‘I see no point in hysterics.’
She snorted. ‘You showed a lack of respect for one of my people
.’
‘No, I taught her some manners. And she’s had another lesson today.’
The atmosphere dropped beyond freezing. The other four women stared at me, one with her mouth open.
‘You’re Roma Novan, aren’t you?’
I nodded.
‘Tough bastards. What did you do there, then?
‘Special forces soldier.’
‘Fuck me!’
‘I’d rather not.’
She burst out laughing. I smiled.
‘No wonder they fingered you for topping Grosschenk.’
I said nothing.
‘He was a turd. He slashed two of my girls. They were so terrified they were useless after that. Then you’d see the bastard in the papers sliming all over the bloody council. Good riddance.’
One of the two women supporters nodded her head vigorously. The seated woman frowned at her. The supporter stopped moving instantly.
The seated woman stood up and I came up with her. It would be stupid to ignore the power dynamics in a tense place like this.
‘Okay, Roman, I’ll leave you alone. But no crossing my boundaries. If you get any trouble you tell them you’re under Magda’s protection. Oh, and wilkommen im Knast!’
XVIII
Now the prisoner boss had ‘welcomed’ me, the other inmates treated me differently. Few started conversations, but replied easily enough if I spoke to them. Mealtimes were easier; nobody jostled me and I received extra portions at the table. But it was Magda’s intervention that guaranteed this easier passage into prison life. I had become a ‘client’ to her ‘patron’ in the ancient Roman pattern. Not the most rewarding relationship, but bearable. I didn’t realise how I’d slipped into the prison routine until Galba visited a week later.
‘Are you sticking it out in here?’ She glanced around and screwed up her face as if there were rotting cabbage under her nose.
Somehow I didn’t want to tell her about my arrangement with Madga – it belonged to a world Galba knew nothing about. I wasn’t sure she’d understand.
‘Yes, coping. I’m helping with literacy and keep-fit classes and started reading my way through the library.’
AURELIA (Roma Nova Book 4) Page 14
