“He blindsided me.”
Blake nodded. “I know. I saw the tape. You should maybe invest in some self-defence classes.”
“Are they available in here?”
Blake gave a tight smile. “In a manner of speaking. Your lawyer is here.”
“My lawyer?” Bunny regretted the surprise in his voice as soon as he’d spoken the words. “Right. Great.”
“This way.”
Blake stood to one side and showed Bunny out onto the landing. Then he stopped him, turned him around to give him a thorough pat-down for weapons, and manacled his hands. Satisfied, Blake ushered him towards the stairs.
They descended in silence, Blake behind Bunny.
On the second landing, Bunny couldn’t help but notice that a large number of tattooed Caucasian gentlemen took a great deal of interest in them as they walked by.
“Yes,” said Blake, blithely. “Whiteside is affiliated with the Aryan Brotherhood. He isn’t exactly popular, but it’s a point of principle thing. They’re all real keen to have a little catch-up with you.”
“Well,” said Bunny, “on the upside, at least they’re broadening the colour palette of their hate.”
“There is that,” said Blake. He placed a hand on Bunny’s shoulder and pulled him back until his mouth was right beside Bunny’s ear. “Just so we’re crystal clear, you’d best keep your mouth shut about any unusual arrangements regarding your cellmate. Do we understand each other? Or else I might just have to move you down to a nice cosy cell, right in the midst of Mr Whiteside’s brethren. Am I coming through loud and clear?”
Bunny nodded.
“I’m thrilled we understand each other.”
Bunny was tempted to ask Blake if he thought Whiteside had joined the Aryan Brotherhood because his name sort of meant the same thing, but it didn’t seem like the right time.
When Blake opened the door to the interview room, Bunny saw a blonde man with a jowly face and a rather dishevelled look to him sitting across the table.
The man plastered on a terrible attempt at a smile and nodded at them. “Thank you, Officer.”
Blake placed Bunny down in the chair opposite. “It’s ‘Commander’, actually.”
“Is that right?” said the man. “I’m surprised a high-ranking official such as yourself is taking an interest in an inmate such as this one.”
“All part of the service. Do you want the manacles off?”
“No, it’s fine.”
“OK,” said Blake. “This room is monitored by CCTV for your protection, but there’s no audio feed or recording of any kind – in line with state and federal protections of attorney–client privileges. Would you like a guard to remain in the room with you for your protection?”
“No,” said the man.
Bunny couldn’t help but notice the waft of tequila on the man’s breath – always a confidence boost in a legal representative.
“OK,” said Blake, giving Bunny one last pointed look. “I’ll leave you to it. Please press the buzzer on the desk when you’re done, or in case of emergency.”
Bunny went to speak, but the lawyer held up his finger and waited for Blake to close the door behind him. He then gave a long sigh and rubbed his hand across his two-day-old stubble.
“OK,” the lawyer said. “Before you say anything, shut up and listen. My name is Jacob Gold and I am not your lawyer. Well, technically, I am now, but I’m here at the behest of our mutual friends, and I’m stretching the term ‘friends’ to its absolute limit. Now …” He pushed back the hair behind his left ear. “This here is a hearing aid. I am ninety percent deaf. In a minute, I’m going to turn it off.”
He pushed back the hair behind his right ear. “This, on the other hand, is not my normal hearing aid – it just looks like it. Through it, I can hear them and only them, and they in turn can hear everything we are saying. Like, for example, if I were to say they are an evil coven of witches who use a man’s occasional poor judgements against him.” Gold winced and then spoke again, but not to Bunny. “I was just testing it, and I’m getting to that bit.”
From Bunny’s perspective it looked disconcertingly like his newly acquired legal representative was arguing with the voices in his head, but it seemed easier to just let them get on with it.
“I cannot emphasise this enough,” Gold said to Bunny. “I want to know as little as possible about whatever the hell is going on here, so I will not be listening to your side of the conversation. They have also promised me that they will speak in code so that, should I be questioned later, I can have plausible deniability. Failing that, rest assured if this all goes sideways, I will make a deal and give the authorities everything I can, so discretion really is recommended.
“I also need you to cover your lips, so that neither I nor the prison authorities who are watching us from that camera behind my head can lipread what you say. It’s against every law imaginable for them to do so but, well – if I’d have been sufficiently paranoid, I wouldn’t be here. Now, is this all clear?”
“No,” said Bunny, because it really wasn’t.
“I couldn’t give any less of a shit,” said Gold. “I swear to God, if I get through this, I’m turning my life around.”
“What did they—” started Bunny.
“None of your damn business,” snapped Gold. “I’m turning off my hearing aid now.” He reached up to his left ear and pressed a button. “OK, let this degrading abuse of my disability begin.”
Bunny placed his hand over his mouth. “Before I say anything, how do I know who I’m talking to?”
There was something about so many people already being out to get him that was making Bunny a little paranoid too.
Gold shrugged. “She just said, ‘Simone’?”
Bunny nodded. “Fair enough. Continue.”
Gold sitting there, staring intently at the table, put Bunny in mind of those shyster psychics who claim they can contact the dead. “Alright, after some discussion
