17
“In tonight’s exclusive interview,” Hayley Jovanka’s voice filled the prison, “I’m joined by Joan Ferguson, past Governor of Wentworth Correctional Centre, who has just been acquitted of the murder of Harry Smith. Viewers will remember that Smith was the ex-husband of notorious Wentworth inmate Bea Smith, who is currently serving life without parole after her execution-style murder of crime family son Brayden Holt, whose mother, Jacs Holt, she also brutally stabbed with a pen.”
“Yeah, and good on you for stabbing her, Bea!” Boomer shouted at the screen.
Maxine frowned. Jovanka’s summary was true, but it made Bea sound like a monster, not like the loving person she knew.
“Ferguson herself has spent the last several months on remand within the prison she used to run. Now that her charges have been dropped, she is once again a free woman, ready to place this harrowing ordeal behind her.”
“What did I miss?” Doreen asked, running in and joining the others under the blankets.
“They’re portraying Bea as the villain so that Ferguson can appear as the luckless tragic hero,” Sonia stated succinctly.
Maxine swiveled to stare at her. That’s it. Sonia was right. That’s exactly how this interview was positioning the two women.
Sonia noticed Maxine’s expression and shrugged. “It’s a basic public relations move,” she explained. “Redirect the attention. Change the conversation. If Bea is bad, then Ferguson must be good, and our sympathy should lie with her.”
“If they only knew the truth,” Liz added sardonically.
***
“Governor Ferguson—excuse me,” Hayley smiled prettily, apologetically. “I mean Ms. Ferguson. Forgive me: I’m used to using your old title.”
Joan smiled benevolently. “That’s perfectly all right, Ms. Jovanka—I’m used to it being used. Please, Joan is fine.”
Vera’s mouth dropped open slightly. She, better than anyone, knew the contempt with which Joan Ferguson held Hayley Jovanka, as well as the news media generally. Now they were on a first-name basis?
“Joan, then,” Hayley nodded. “Let’s get right to it, shall we? You’ve been acquitted of all charges, but how do you feel about having spent several months on remand for a crime you didn’t commit? How angry are you right now?”
“Oh, Hayley,” Joan sighed sadly, her eyes wide. “I’m not angry. I know that this was never a personal attack on me, just as I know that the remand process is part of a bigger system. The system must seek justice to enable the people to feel safe, to feel just.”
“Even if those feelings come at your expense?” Hayley prodded.
Joan nodded, moving her hands in an open gesture. “It is unfortunate, but it’s the only system we have, and it’s generally a good one. It’s the same one that found Bea Smith guilty, after all, when she did murder Brayden Holt.”
The camera switched to Hayley nodding, a look of intense listening on her face.
“And I was ultimately exonerated,” Joan added, as the camera cut back to a close-up shot of her face. “The system was able to recognize my innocence. That is a system that must be treasured. It must be held up as an example. There are too many other places in the world where a woman such as myself would never have been given such due process, where I would be stoned or executed as soon as the first charges were laid, regardless of any truth or greater good. But here, the system enabled the truth of my innocence to be revealed. That is a system that I celebrate.”
A commercial interrupted the interview. Vera’s mouth hung fully open as she stared at the screen in disbelief. She knew firsthand that Joan regarded the system with contempt, that she viewed it as messy and lazy and sometimes downright corrupt—hell, Joan herself was part of that corruption. And yet here, in this moment, as Joan spewed her rhetoric, it was as if Joan actually believed it.
And it tugged at something in Vera’s own heart, because it was also something that she wanted to believe. She wanted to see herself as part of this beautiful system that was bright and shiny and right, that was both objective and humane in its seeking of justice.
But it was all complete shit.
Vera knew it.
So did Joan.
But would anyone else see through speeches given by the mighty Joan Ferguson?
***
In H-block, Sonia ticked off another point on her fingers: “ah, nationalism. Another good move. Increase the viewer’s self-pride in being Australian, and show how supporting Ferguson becomes an aspect of being Australian. Oh, and there’s a nice dose of feminism, too.”
Maxine stared with horror.
Liz sighed. “She’s good. She’s really, really good at this.”
Doreen shifted uneasily. “Do you think Ferguson has a point? I mean, we don’t actually know who killed Harry. What if it wasn’t her? What if the system really is working?”
Boomer stared at her incredulously. “What the fuck are you on about?”
Doreen shrugged. “I don’t know! It’s just… there’s so much we don’t know. Like what happened in the kitchen—Mel said that Ferguson tried to kill Bea, but I also saw her save Tasha!”
“There’s something wrong with your head,” Boomer stated, shaking her own head. “The Freak’s fucking evil.”
“She saved Joshua,” Doreen responded stubbornly. She sighed. “I’m just saying that everyone is innocent until proven guilty, and in this specific case she was proven innocent. Maybe we should trust the system.”
“Well, to each their own, love,” Liz replied gently, “but a system that exonerates Joan Ferguson is not a system that I care to trust.”
“After all,” Sonia added, “who knows what the evidence was, or who informed on her—truthfully or otherwise.”
Liz’s gaze shifted quickly, guiltily to Sonia, but she was staring at the screen again. “Besides," Sonia quoted softly, "‘most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.’ Hush, now—the interview’s back on.”
Once again, the formidable figure of Joan Ferguson filled the screen.