Chapter Eleven
“Governor, Bennett’s put Westfall on her visitor docket,” Linda breathlessly reported.
Joan froze. “When?”
“Must’ve been this morning”
“When did she contact her?” Joan was furious, “you were supposed to intercept her mail!”
“I tried,” Linda’s excuses fell on deaf ears.
“It must have been Hood!” Joan barked, “tell Mr. Stewart to come to my office, immediately.”
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The officer promptly left after letting Bridget into the interview room.
It was a small room with a glass window separating the visitor from the inmate.
Seldom used, it was reserved for inmates known for drug dealing or violence.
Bridget was overcome by the musky smell and stuffiness.
“Bennett, you gotta visitor,” Linda said flatly.
Vera followed Linda to the interview room
“Here?” Vera expected to be allowed to speak with Bridget in the meeting area.
“Yeah, Governor’s orders.”
Bridget was already in the room looking expectantly to the door.
“Sit,” Linda ordered.
Vera sat in front of Bridget. She knew the Governor would be watching.
The room was watched by CCTV but there was no sound feed. Whatever was said would not leave the room.
Bridget waited for Vera to get settled, “how are you doing?”
“I’m in protection. Plenty of time to think.”
“And something bothered you?”
Vera shifted in her seat and put her hand near her mouth.
“She must be trying to avoid the CCTV,” thought Joan. Bridget nodded. Vera must have said something.
Bridget nodded again. Bridget opened her bag and took out a small memo pad and pen.
Unlike to meeting area, visitors could take their bag into the room as there was no possibility of passing anything.
She wrote something that Joan couldn’t see on the screen.
Vera said something again.
Bridget again wrote something on the pad.
Vera shook her head.
“What the fuck is going on,” Joan clenched her fists and gritted her teeth.
After visiting hours, making sure that all officers had gone off to other duties, Joan made her way to the interview room to retrieve her voice recorder. “Now I’ll know what’s going on between them,” she thought.
Switching it on, she heard sounds from Bridget entering the room and moving the chair to sit down.
Next, there was noise from Vera entering the room.
“Sit,” it was Linda’s voice.
“How are you doing?” it was Bridget.
Then came Vera’s voice, “I’m in protection. Plenty of time to think.”
“And something bothered you?”
Then there was silence.
The recorder caught shifting about and then what seemed to be Bridget getting the memo pad out of her bag.
But the recorder did not record any voices.
Joan couldn’t believe it. Vera had deliberately turned away from the CCTV and mouthed something to Bridget.
Bridget wrote out what she thought Vera said to confirm it. How could they communicate this way for over 15 minutes?
Vera must have realized that Joan would somehow be listening despite the CCTV not offering a sound feed.
Joan was furious. How could that little mouse outsmart her.
She grabbed the coffee mug on her desk and threw it at the wall.
It came crashing down in a thousand little pieces.
“Damn you, Vera,” it was an inhuman primal howl.
Bridget was deeply disturbed by Vera’s confession.
She had always considered her as a friend and tried to support her during her trial.
She had no inkling of Vera's feelings.
She knew Vera was confused and distressed but she could think of no way to help her after today’s confession.
Bridget wondered if it was true that Ferguson would tape conversations in the interview room.
That was against protocol. CCTV visual feeds were condoned but sound was against regulations.
But that didn’t really matter. What mattered was Vera’s problem. She definitely needed help.
How could anyone be in love with Joan Ferguson?