“Bugger was only in for eighteen months and didn’t even seem depressed, apparently.” ” He shakes his head instead of finishing, but I get the drift. “They only noticed when there was blood leaking out from the door. Piece of broken glass.” He makes a gesture along the inside of both wrists. “My first week here, a guy in the same wing as me kills himself. Yeah, I’ll manage.” His face goes through a few different expressions before settling on something blandly generic. I helped put Penry behind bars-Brian Penry, a bent ex-copper with a line in fraud and one or two worse things besides-and I shouldn’t like him, but I do. The court handed down a four-year sentence, every minute of it deserved. Seven hundred and eighty-five other prisoners, ninety-four of them lifers. Official notices on the wall and a couple of prison guards watching everything. It’s as though the ghosts of his handcuffs are still there.įormica tables with metal legs. Penry opens his hands in what’s meant to be a spreading gesture, only they never get more than about eight inches apart.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |