“No,” I replied firmly. I kept eye contact, wanting him to believe me. I didn’t add to the answer, the single word enough to convince him. He continued eyeing me off for a few more seconds before looking back at the spot on the floor.
“Did Frank?” Now it was my turn to stare at him. In all the time since that day, I had assumed that it was common knowledge that Frank orchestrated the whole thing with Danny. I didn’t have any reason to doubt otherwise, Frank more than happy to take the credit.
“Why would you ask me that?” I asked, genuinely confused. San returned his gaze at me and waited for the answer to come to him. I don’t think he needed me to answer, but I did anyway.
“He did, didn’t he?” I suddenly realized why San was asking me. He’d been kept in the dark as much as me. While I may have been kept in the dark about the victim, San was kept in the dark about the real architect.
“Yes. Frank knew. Frank and Danny planned it together. Why do you ask?”
“Because Frank told me he didn’t know. He said it was all Danny. That he gave specific instructions for Nick to die.” I don’t know why, but I suddenly felt sick, sick enough for my colour to change.
“You OK, kid? You look like you’re gonna barf.” He suddenly stood, walked past me and headed for the row of vending machines. He returned a minute later and handed me a bottle of water which I grabbed, opened and swallowed half of in 3 big gulps.
“Why would Frank lie to you?” I asked once the feeling subsided enough. I could still feel the sweat on my brow but thankfully, the nausea had passed.
“Because I asked him. I wanted to know whether my money was going to a child killer.”
“Your money? You pay Frank? For what?” I asked, more questions building behind the first. He looked at me with a surprised expression, shaking his head a little as if expecting me to know the answer.
“For you, of course.” I was stunned into silence, words evading my ever effort to grab them. “You didn’t know, did you?” he said after a minute of watching me struggle. “He hasn’t told you.”
“Told me what?” I finally asked.
“He may have not come right out and say it, but he threatened your life unless I paid. Called it ‘protection money for his finest’. Said you needed looking after and he could ensure your safety for a sum.” The nausea threatened to return as I suddenly realized how badly I’d been played. We’d both been played. Used like the pawns we really were.
“How much?” I asked once my anger subsided enough. It wasn’t just anger I felt, but downright shame. I’d embarrassed myself by thinking I was somebody within the gang. I suddenly realized I was nobody. Just a deluded fool.
“2 grand a week.” The anger that tore through me at that moment awoke a rage that I hadn’t felt for a long time. The deception ripped into my heart, the words once again evading me. “Don’t worry about it, Dylan. I can afford it. If it means keeping you safe then so be it. Let me do something at least. Make up for all the years I wasn’t there.”
I suddenly realized that the man sitting before me, the man who’d been living in a cell just a few doors down from me in the unit, was my father. He was my Dad. I don’t know why it took until that very moment for me to accept the truth, but that’s when it happened. I saw him for the man he really was. A father who was genuinely sorry for his actions.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” was all I could say. He looked at me, as stunned to hear the name as much as I was saying it. I could see a single tear drop from the corner of one eye and slowly roll down his cheek as he lent forward, waving me towards him. We embraced each other in a tight hug that felt real. It felt right. I finally accepted my father.
3.
That first visit had been the beginning of a new road for both of us. With the animosity all but gone, it felt amazing to have someone in my life again that truly meant something. Having San on the outside was a real support that seemed to lift a weight off my shoulders.
He visited with me every Saturday, the two of us chatting about anything and everything. He shared a lot of himself with me, not holding back, even things that may have been difficult to reveal. I learnt about his side of the family, the family I never knew and now never would. Both his parents had passed away and if there were other siblings, he didn’t mention them.
San also filled my spending account on a weekly basis, up to the maximum of $110 that the prison permitted. Despite not needing it, the gesture felt warming, it really did. I think he genuinely wanted to be a father to me, despite the barriers between us. But while we managed to remove most of the mental barriers, the physical ones remained in place, despite his best efforts.
4.
It was another surprise visit that gave me renewed hope. But this visit wasn’t one from anybody I was expecting. It came completely out of the blue, not even a heads up from the one pulling the strings.
It was the middle of a workday when Friendly called me to the officer’s station. She was partnered with a guy called Hans Zimmerman or something, a brooding blond who reminded me of a Nazi officer from The Great Escape.
