‘You have no idea what my best interests are,’ I said, trying not to show just how angry I was. ‘Grace, I don’t want to quarrel with you. You’re still my sister, and I love you, although right now I don’t like you very much. I think it’s best that I move out of here completely. Just tell me the name of the prison she’s in.’
Grace pursed her lips.
‘Wouldn’t it be better if-?’
‘Are you out of your mind?’ she cried. ‘Do you want people to know you associate with a jailbird? What will that do for your reputation?’
‘Don’t force me to ask Pearl,’ I said quietly.
She told me. She was very pale.
I promised myself I’d make it up and be nice to her later, but just now I couldn’t bear the sight of her. Her pleasure in Della’s misfortune revolted me.
Grace had one parting shot as I left the room.
‘Just think about the share price,’ she wailed.
There was only one answer to that, and I made it. ‘To hell with the share price.’
It was a great exit line, and I’d like to say that I lived up to it. But I didn’t. Not entirely.
I did the right things. I read the enquiry agent’s report closely and noted the name of her lawyer. My phone call to him was a depressing experience.
‘She’s only my client because I was the lawyer on duty when she was arrested,’ he told me feebly. ‘In fact I can hardly be said to be representing her at all since she refuses to co-operate. She told the police her name and nothing else. That’s all she told me, too. When we went before the magistrates she wouldn’t talk to them-not even to say not guilty-’
‘But she can’t have stolen anything,’ I interrupted him.
‘Since she won’t speak, I have no way of knowing,’ he replied grimly.
He’d washed his hands of her and was merely going through the motions. I hated him. I told him to fix me a visit with her at the prison. He hummed and hah-ed. I talked money. He said to consider it done.
In the end I was told I could go the next day, and a permit arrived by messenger.
It was in the name of Smith. I’d arranged that in case she refused to see me.
That was when everything went pear-shaped.
I sat staring at that permit, wondering if I really meant to go. It was nothing to do with Grace’s worries about my reputation. To hell with that! If people didn’t trust me by now they could do the other thing.
No, it was something else.
I’d have treated her like a queen and she’d thrown it all back in my face, without even a proper goodbye.
And for what? To go back to a way of life where she couldn’t even cope? So now she needed my help and I was supposed to come running. She could think again.
Dignity.
A man has his pride.
No, something else.
Sheer childish resentment?
That was it.
I had a heavy meeting next day, and no certainty of how long it would run. It was a big deal-good for me, good for the other side, on the right terms. Jimmy Haflin was a tough negotiator, but I knew I could get the better of him, eventually.
It was good-humoured, but it went slowly, and as the minutes ticked by I knew I couldn’t make that visit. Given just a little more time I’d nail Jimmy down to everything I wanted, and that had to be my priority.
If I wasn’t out of there by one-thirty I could forget it. And Jimmy dragged things out, almost as if he knew.
‘I’m hungry,’ he said at last. ‘Why don’t we finish this off over a decent meal?’
That would work in my favour. Jimmy was never at his best after the second glass. It was all going my way.
One-thirty.
‘Sorry, Jimmy, no can do. I have to be out of here.’
‘What? But we haven’t settled anything.’
‘Yes, we have. Five per cent is OK by me. We’ll agree on that.’
‘But you said five per cent was robbery.’
‘So I’ve had a rethink. I can see you’re not going to budge, so I give in. You sure are some tough negotiator.’
I think I was babbling by that time. Certainly my secretary was giving me a very strange look.
‘Mary,’ I said, rising and packing papers away, ‘please call the garage and tell them to have my car ready to go in two minutes.’
After that I got out fast, leaving her to deal with Jimmy’s bewilderment and her own. If I hurried I could just make it in time.
The prison was in one of the most bleak and depressing parts of town, and I began to realise that it had been a mistake to bring the Rolls. I was attracting too much of the wrong sort of attention.
Then I forgot it. I was going to see Della again, and I was nervous.
I got more nervous when I went in. I’d never been inside a prison before, apart from a few unfortunate misunderstandings in my younger days, when I’d enjoyed myself a little too much. But that had been a few hours in a police cell. This was real. Worst of all, it was real for her.
When a severely uniformed warder said, ‘This way, Mr Smith,’ I was certain that she knew Smith wasn’t my real name. Maybe everyone knew. Half the visitors to this place probably used that name, and they saw through all of us.
I’d had nightmare visions of talking through a glass screen, maybe even having to use a phone, like they do in films. But Della was on remand, and it was a relief to find a room with small tables and nothing between us.
I watched the door and saw when she entered. The shock was enough to make me rise out of my seat and start towards her in instinctive protest. How could they have done this to my Della?
She was in an old sweater and jeans, her hair cut even shorter than I remembered. Where once she’d looked gamine now she merely looked despairing. Her face, which had always been pale, now seemed bleached, and the black smudges of her eyes showed how long she had been without proper sleep.
I wanted to howl. Instead I forced a smile onto my face and took a step towards her.
The result was electrifying. She stopped dead and her face went, if possible, even whiter then before. Then she threw up her hands, as if warding off a monster.
It was the one thing I hadn’t thought of. I’d guessed she might refuse to see me if she knew in advance, but I hadn’t thought of her backing off when I was actually there.
‘Della-’ I said.
‘No-no-I’m sorry, I can’t. Go away,
She turned and ran out. A warder went after her, and another warder stood in front of me when I tried to follow.
‘I’m sorry, you can’t go through that door,’ she said.
‘But I’ve got to see her. Bring her back here.’
‘We can’t force her to see you.’
‘But she’s got to,’ I said, trying to sound firm.
‘No, she hasn’t got to,’ the warder said, also sounding firm, and doing it a lot more successfully.
‘I won’t leave without talking to her. You might tell her that.’
‘I’ll try, but she has the right to refuse.’
She spoke gently, like a mother to a rather stupid child. She looked about eighteen, and wasn’t very large, but she was authority here. Suddenly I felt helpless and afraid-both feelings that I hated.
From the corridor outside I could hear desperate weeping. It tore me apart, and suddenly I didn’t care about who gave the orders so long as I could get to see Della and make things right for her.
‘Please,’ I begged. ‘Ask her to come back. Tell her I love her.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll tell her that.’
