Chapter 13: Nicola
Nicola was just finishing up her paperwork for the evening when there was a sharp knock at her door. She sighed, and saw Sophia doing the same - every day she could almost guarantee there would be some kind of emergency at the last moment that would hold her back an extra hour.. She couldn't even send the girl ahead as she had driven her into work that morning so they could discuss their plans for investigating further.
"Come," she barked, her irritation bleeding through to her voice.
She was surprised to see the young therapist stick her head around the door. "Dr. Kay? Do you have a moment?" The woman asked, tentatively.
Nicola pushed up from her desk and beckoned her in. "Of course, Dr. Kim wasn't it?"
"That's right," Kim said, as she came in and closed the door. Her face was calm and her rather severe trouser suit was impeccably pressed, but she gave away her anxiety by fidgeting with the papers clutched in her hands. "I'm sorry to bother you doctor, but I have a few concerns and the warden dismissed me before I even got started."
From her desk, Sophia let out a loud, inelegant snort. They looked at her. "Sorry, allergies," she offered sweetly and insincerely.
Nicola gave her a withering look and then turned her attention back to Kim "What's the problem?" she asked.
"I think one of the young men in my group is being abused."
Nicola sighed and rubbed at her eyes. "Has he made a complaint?"
"No, I tried to speak with him but he didn't want to talk to me."
"Then I'm afraid there is not much you can do. There has to be actual evidence that his life's in danger, and that really needs to come from him."
"I think the man abusing him is sharing his cell – there must be some way to stop it." Kim said, her voice rising slightly.
She looked tense and angry and Nicola felt a rush of sympathy. This job was hard on the idealistic. She gestured towards a chair. "Come in, take a seat and we can talk about possible options."
Kim nodded gratefully and sat, smoothing her hands over the fabric of her trousers with a nervous touch.
Without being asked, Sophia bounced off her seat and headed for the poor excuse for a coffee machine in the corner of their shared office. "Drinks for all?" She asked on her way past, and both Nicola and Kim nodded. It was going to be a while before they got out of here, Nicola was sure.
"Tell me what happened."
Kim let out a sigh, her rigid posture relaxing slightly. "One of the young men in my group came in this morning with fresh injuries. He was repeatedly stopped from talking to me by two other members of the group, one of whom had bruising to his knuckles and was behaving in a very controlling manner. That same man had also been involved in a previous altercation just before our first session, so I feel quite confident he was the perpetrator."
Now it was Nicolas turn to sigh. "Being certain is not enough without evidence to back it up I'm afraid. If the victim comes forward we can move him into protective custody, but sometimes inmates find it better to struggle through physical violence. The stigma of going to PC is the sort that sticks. If there is an issue between cell mates then it is sometimes possible to arrange a transfer." She paused and accepted the cup of hot coffee Sophia handed to her. She sipped it. One sugar, a touch of milk. She had never mentioned how she took her coffee and usually made her own rather than relying on her busy assistants. The girl had some keen observational skills, Nicola thought, as she quietly watched her offer milk and sugar to their guest.
"Anyway," she continued after a moment, "with the current overcrowding transfers can be difficult. Racial segregation in the system also causes problems. It makes reshuffling much more difficult."
"I just feel so impotent. Knowing that someone is being harmed, possibly seriously, and I have to stand back and do nothing."
"It's one of the most frustrating parts of this job." Nicola agreed. "This prison is perhaps worse than most."
Kim eyed her sharply. "I have also found that to be true. With the overcrowding it is not surprising there is so much violence behind the closed cell doors but the number of deaths does seem abnormally high."
Nicola took a sip of coffee and studied the woman across from her. Her age was hard to place: older than Sophia, younger than Nicola herself. Fresh faced, idealistic, determined. Nicola sidestepped the subject for the moment. "You fought hard to come to this prison, I was astonished when you were granted access."
"Yes, I've had several members of staff tell me how unprepared I am for working with 'these kinds of inmates' in 'an old time jail like this'." Her back straightened as though to protect herself from other people's shitty, unsolicited options.
Nicola smiled. "I've heard much the same over the years. But that's not what I meant." She paused, choosing her words carefully. "I'm merely surprised the warden allowed someone independent into the jail – the rest of us rely on his good will for our jobs. You don't"
Kim returned her earlier scrutiny, clearly weighing up her own words. "There's something wrong in this prison." She said at last. It wasn't a question.
Nicola nodded, but didn't otherwise answer. "Your college applied a lot of pressure to get you here, why not just go elsewhere. Why here?" she asked instead.
"One of the subjects I was interviewing was transferred here from Gotham. He was killed. Murdered, I think. I want to find out why and make sure the people responsible see justice."
"What was his name?" Sophia asked. Nicola had almost forgotten she was there.
"Henry Martinez. I looked into it as much as I could before I came here. I started to see patterns in the reported deaths. Martinez fit into several categories. And I discovered he was an informant."
"For the police?" Sophia asked.
"No, for a criminal vigilante, in Gotham."
One of Sophia's eyebrows went up. "Which one?"
"The Red Hood. At first I thought the death might have something to do with him; if he felt Martinez had been talking to the police or something. But I don't think that's what happened."
One corner of Sophie's mouth was twitching. Nicola supposed that talk of costumed vigilantes was a bit silly, even if they were very real. But probably not much sillier than organised prison fights.
Sophia nodded. "I suspect you are right in that assumption. I grew up in Gotham, I spend a lot of time there. If someone betrays the Red Hood, he doesn't have them murdered in some backwater jail. He nails them to their front door or hangs them from a lamp post as a reminder that it's very bad for your health to double cross him."
Kim looked a bit sick, but Sophia still had that half smile on her lips, and Nicola felt she might be exaggerating. She seemed more amused than horrified.
"The fact remains, there is something rotten here. I want to find out what it is," Kim said. She made a rueful face, "And apparently I want to save all of the other inmates along the way. Is there really nothing you can do?"
"Try to convince him to come and see me. If the damage is extensive enough, or if there is evidence of sexual violence I can try and get him transferred for his own safety. Sex between inmates is banned, it doesn't matter if it's consensual, under duress or violent. We can use that to get the victim out of harm's way."
Kim didn't look mollified, she looked angry. Nicola approved. And she was pleased that they might have found another ally.
"What about the other thing, the deaths?" Kim asked. "You must be aware of the situation?"
"I am. Perhaps we should share information."
Kim's eyes brightened at the prospect and she leant forward eagerly. "I have a great deal of info on the victims, but not much on the deaths themselves. Your input would be incredibly valuable."
"Not here," Sophia broke in, eyeing the connecting door to the exam room, and Nicola suddenly heard what she had: movement next door, the slight shuffle of booted feet. She got up and opened the door, heart in her throat and desperately hoping it was Officer Russell come to pester her for something again.
It wasn't.
"Evening doctor," Officer Williams said, with an obnoxious smirk.
How long had he been there? Nicola felt that there was a knowing look in his eyes, but that could have been her anxiety talking.
"What can I do for you?" she asked, pleased at the steady sound of her own voice.
"It's past time for Miss Kim to be leaving. I was hoping to escort her out."
"Very chivalrous of you, Mr Williams," she said, watching him scowl as she left the 'Officer' off his name. Two could play that game. "I will be leaving myself in a moment and will take Dr. Kim with me when I go."
"Hurry up about it," he snapped, and Nicola did her best not to slam the door in his face.
"How long was he there do you think?" Sophia said, voicing Nicolas thoughts.
"Long enough." She began packing up her stuff, shoving papers into her bag, headless of the creases she was making on the pages. Her heart was hammering and seemed to have taken up residence somewhere in her oesophagus.
"Let's talk more outside," Sophia said, ushering Kim out the door in front of them. Williams was still in the reception room and gave them a look as they left. It was not a nice look, somewhere between smug and angry, and it gave Nicola the shivers.
They met up again in a small dinner just off the freeway. Nicola decided to get decaf – her body was under enough strain as it was and she couldn't stomach the idea of food. Not so Sophia, who ordered chicken and waffles and slurped on her milkshake like an enthusiastic child.
There was a nervous quiet while Kim picked at her food, Sophia ate with gusto and texted rapidly on her phone. Kim smiled at her awkwardly and gestured at the phone clutched in the girl's hand. "Your boyfriend?" she asked.
Sophia shot her an impish look. "Something like that. My friends like to check in with me after work. They worry about me, working in a big scary jail."
"Mine too," Kim agreed.
"So," Nicola said, her voice sounded loud and she made an effort to quiet it. "So, shall we address the elephant in the room?"
Sophia nodded and put down her phone. She didn't stop eating though.
"Did that snake Williams hear anything, and does it matter if he did?" Nicola took a quick sip of coffee to try to calm her nerves. The two younger women didn't seem to have the same fears she did.
"What can they do about it if they did hear us talking?" Kim said.
"I don't know. But it worries me," Nicola admitted. "If it's idle speculation on our part, then they might start looking for a way to get us dismissed or to shut us up."
"They can't fire us for gossiping," Kim said, "I suppose they could make up a scandal to get us to leave, but that's about the extent of it."
"What if it's not just gossip? What if they are involved in the deaths to some extent? Firing us is not going to be enough, the stakes are too high."
Kim looked pensive. "Perhaps you better tell me what you know. Then I will share my information and we can decide from there."
Two hours and four cups of coffee later they came to a conclusion: the likelihood was that at least some staff were involved in whatever was happening. Kim's data was alarming – the correlation of the victim types was a clear indicator that something more than simple mindless violence was happening. Nicola's palms were sweating and even Sophia was looking concerned. Their thoughts all seemed to be headed in the same direction: if the staff were involved in the killings they would hardly balk at threatening violence, or worse, to keep their crimes under wraps.
"I don't know about you but I'm going to double lock my doors tonight. Maybe even go crash at my mom's," Sophia said. Breaking a silence that had taken on a life of its own. "Perhaps you two should consider doing the same? Just until this is resolved?"
Kim nodded, her manicured fingers tapping on her empty coffee cup in her agitation.
"No," Nicola heard herself say. "I won't let these people drive me from my home!"
"That's very brave, Nicola, I feel the same – but I don't want to be scared of every creak my house makes or have to check under my car every morning and evening," Sophia said.
"Under your car?" Kim asked, and then her eyes widened in understanding. "Surely they wouldn't go that far!"
"I saw it on Law and Order one time. Although the situation was different – the woman was a witness to a mob hit and was going to go to the police but before she could pluck up the courage someone planted a bomb under her car!" Sophia waved her hands, her eyes wide and earnest despite her excitement. "And there was another one I saw on Forensic Files – this time it was a doctor who was going to report malpractice but before he could his boss cut his brake lines and his car went off a cliff." She finished with a decisive nod. "I'm going to stay with my mom."
TV addict and crime enthusiast indeed. "You make a good point," Nicola admitted. "And although it galls me, I will find somewhere else to rest my head for the next week or two. Heaven forbid I become the next unfortunate star of Forensic Files."
"So," Kim asked, her voice a little unsteady, "what's the plan? I mean, we should be careful, just in case – but we don't give up, right? I promised to do my best for the families of the dead. I won't quit."
"Well, Ms. Criminal Mastermind?" Nicola asked Sophia, who grinned.
"I like to think of myself as an ammeter sleuth, crime shows are just my homework."
"And how many other cases have you and your detective skills solved?
"None, this is my first!" her smile slipped slightly. "But seriously, we carry on as before – but carefully – don't ask obvious questions, and we don't talk about it with each other at work – at all. Not unless someone is in immediate danger. That would be my advice."
Kim looked grateful. "Agreed."
"Agreed," Nicola added. What else could they do?
"We should totally have a name, all the good sleuthing partnerships have names."
"Well 'the Scoobies' is taken," Nicola said
"You like Buffy? I love Buffy!"
"You bet I do!" The fear of the past day seemed to evaporate and Nicola found herself grinning back at the two woman across the table.