Brian Freemantle - A Mind to Kill

‘I said we’d do our best.’

‘Why don’t they come and babysit if they’re so worried?’

Jennifer was only distantly aware of the discussion, indifferent to whatever they were saying: if she just slightly closed her eyes she could picture Emily’s face when she’d grabbed out for her throat, as if it was projected on to the blank wall opposite. Beautiful Emily, pretty Emily, terrified Emily. About-to-die Emily.

‘There’s a lot of money involved here,’ cautioned Emerson, not looking up from the case notes in front of him. ‘Expensive lawyers with big mouths. Could make trouble. We will do our best, won’t we?’

‘You treat the aches and pains, David. I’ll run the ward.’

Emerson, who regretted allowing the domination in the first nervous months of his arrival but was resigned to the fact that it was too late to do anything about it now, said, ‘I’ll leave you to give the medication then?’

‘Of course.’

‘It’s been given intravenously at St Thomas’s.’

‘Let me have the case notes. I’ll look after everything.’ She walked from Jennifer’s room with the doctor, releasing in their necessarily correct order the three locks securing the reinforced door of the dispensary with the three separate keys attached to her waist belt. Jennifer hadn’t moved when she returned.

‘Just a little prick in your arm,’ the woman said. ‘And a little more than you’ve been getting at the other hospital, so you can properly relax after the upheaval of coming in here. You’d like that, dear, wouldn’t you?’

As the needle bit into her arm Jennifer was curious that Jane hadn’t made her arm move, to try to prevent being closed out, but it was the fleetest of passing thoughts, which didn’t matter, like nothing mattered any more.

In the car taking them back towards the centre of London Hall said, ‘You really think Jennifer is threatened?’

‘The absolute archetype,’ said Perry. ‘Young, beautiful, wonderful body and rich: one way or another, with hardly an exception, everything that’s been denied all the rest of them in there. There’ll be a queue.’

Hall shuddered, ‘To do what?’

‘Everything you can imagine. Quite a lot you can’t.’

‘We’ve got to stop it!’ said Hall, furiously.

‘We can’t: prisoners run prisons, not the staff,’ said Perry, flatly. ‘What we did was all we can do.’

‘What about the governor?’

‘I made it very clear to the governor Jennifer is a remand prisoner,’ reminded Perry. ‘He knew what I meant, just as the doctor knew.’

‘Let’s do it again, in a letter or something.’

‘It would make her even more of a target,’ insisted Perry.

‘How much more?’

‘Getting her face cut into more pieces than she cut her husband’s.’

‘When will it start?’ asked Hall, dully.

‘They won’t wait,’ predicted Perry.

They didn’t.

The first trustee was a bottle-yellow blonde and slight, with no bust. Her fingernails were badly bitten. The one who came in behind her had mousey hair in a pony tail and a black and red confusion of tattoos on both arms. They were crude prison drawings, jabbed with a pin for ink to be rubbed into the wounds. FUCK was spelled out across the fingers of her left hand, HATE across the right, and high on her left cheek there was a drooped-wing bird.

‘I’m Frances,’ said the blonde. ‘Fran.’

‘Emma,’ said the second one.

‘ Hello. Say hello.’

‘Hello.’

‘Are you frightened, in a place like this?’ asked Emma.

‘ A little. I’d like some friends. Say it! ’

‘A little. I’d like some friends.’

‘We’ll be your friends. Look after you,’ said Fran. ‘You need looking after here.’

‘ I’d like that. Say it! ’

‘I’d like that.’ Jennifer felt very relaxed: warm.

‘That’s why we’ve come,’ said Fran. ‘People helped you to dress and undress at the other hospital, when you couldn’t be bothered, didn’t they?’

Jennifer shook her head, not bothering. Very warm: warm and comfortable. Better than the other hospital.

‘Can you be bothered now?’ asked Emma.

Jennifer shrugged. Silly conversation. Not important. Nothing was important. Couldn’t see Emily’s face on the wall any longer. Glad about that.

‘Would you like us to help you? Get you ready for bed?’ suggested Emma. ‘It’s time you went to bed.’

Another shrug. All right where she was.

‘Here,’ said Emma. ‘Let me help you.’ She held her hands out, for Jennifer to grasp and when she did eased her out of the chair.

Emma was in front of her, Fran behind. Jennifer felt someone’s hands on her breasts but it was very gentle, not unpleasant.

‘Nice. Very nice,’ said Fran.

‘ Say nice. Go on, say it! ’

‘Nice.’

‘Do you like that?’ said Emma, softly.

‘ Yes. Say yes.’

‘Yes.’

‘Time to undress,’ said the woman in front of her. ‘Put your hands on my shoulders, so we can help you.’

Obediently Jennifer felt out, putting her hands where she’d been told. The pony-tailed girl leaned forward, to make it easier, and kissed her very gently, on the cheek at first, then on the lips, parting Jennifer’s lips with her tongue. It was hard, not soft, like a tongue should be soft, pushing and probing. Jennifer pulled back, turning her head. ‘Don’t.’

‘It’s nice,’ said Emma.

‘No,’ said Jennifer. The hands from behind were squeezing her breasts and she shrugged, to loosen the grip. ‘Don’t. Hurts.’

‘Nice if it hurts,’ said Fran, mouth close to Jennifer’s ear.

‘Let’s get these clothes off,’ said Emma. ‘They’re in the way. Don’t you think they’re in the way?’

Jennifer felt the hands on her breasts loosen and lowered her head to see the buttons undone on her jacket. There seemed to be a lot of hands, hands in front and hands from behind, busy fingers, like spiders’ legs. She thought it was funny and sniggered. The jacket came off, then the shirt. She felt the zip go at the back of her skirt and Fran pulled it down from behind, with the waist slip.

‘Step out now. One step forward.’

Jennifer did as she was told, in bra and pants. The blond-haired girl came around from behind, standing with Emma. Both looked at her.

‘Wonderful tits,’ said Emma.

‘Wonderful.’

‘I want the tits.’

‘I’m happy with the cunt.’

‘You’re beautiful, Jennifer. Very beautiful.’

‘ Say you like it. Say it now! I like it.’

‘No.’

‘Yes you are, darling,’ said Emma, not able to understand.

‘ I like it! ’

‘No.’

‘We think so.’

‘ I like it! ’ shouted the voice.

‘I like it.’

Both women smiled, in front of her. ‘We’re all going to like it,’ said Emma. ‘We don’t want that bra on any more, do we?’

Jennifer felt the straps go and looked down as her breasts dropped forward, very slightly. Beyond she saw Fran on her knees and felt her pants ease down over her hips. The girl didn’t stand, but stayed kneeling, hands hard against Jennifer’s buttocks bringing her crotch tight into the face. Jennifer felt something wet, against her clitoris, and wriggled, to try to stop it.

‘Don’t… please…’

‘It’s nice, darling. You know it’s nice.’ Emma’s voice was from behind, both her hands on Jennifer’s breasts, kneading, pricking the nipples between her finger and thumb, hard soft, hard soft.

‘Don’t. You’re hurting.’

‘Lay down,’ urged Emma. ‘It will be better if you lie down. Here we go.’

Unprotesting, consciousness ebbing and flowing, Jennifer let herself be laid on the bed and was glad because she wanted to lie down. She felt her legs eased apart and looked down and saw only the top of a blond head between her legs and felt a lot more wetness, something stiff yet soft licking at her and something stiff inside her, working up and down, and she grew wet. Briefly, momentarily, the wetness stopped from outside although something inside still went up and down and Fran’s head came up, so that Jennifer could see her smiling face and then it was gone again, back between her legs. She couldn’t see the blond head any more because Emma was in the way now, bent over her breasts, gently biting and sucking and biting and sucking. It hurt but not badly and Jennifer didn’t protest or try to close her legs because she was too tired and really couldn’t feel any more. Jane was trying to say something but Jennifer couldn’t properly hear. Maybe it wasn’t words. Maybe it was just laughter.