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Chapter 9

Jail



The next day, passed relatively uneventful for Peter and Helen, they weren’t in adjacent cells but by shouting they could communicate, however this antagonised the guards so they only called out in emergency. But for Helen, everything was an emergency. ‘Why did it happen? Why did they attack us? Why did Peter go after that man? Why wasn’t Peter shot instead? Why David? Why? Why?’ Everything kept on going round and round in her head. At first she blamed it all on Peter. Then she blamed it on her self and then blamed it on Peter again. ‘He shouldn’t have gone after that last man then David would still be alive. That was stupid attacking a man with a gun; he should have left him alone.’ By mid morning her head was buzzing when they came for her. She was frightened, panicked, couldn’t understand what they wanted and didn’t understand their Spanish. The guard repeated several times, el ejercicio, el ejercicio. Eventually it she understood, exercise. Peter heard Helen protesting and it was only when they explained that it was for exercise she calmed down. Her attitude quickly changed and she called out to him. “See you later Peter, I’m just popping out for a walk.” This started him worrying for a whole hour. He was only reassured when she called out as she came back in. “You - Hoo! Peter I’m back. It’s a lovely day out there, not a cloud in the sky. Your turn soon.” He was very much relieved to hear her perky call and acknowledged in return. “Okay! Helen.” A little annoyed with him self that he couldn’t think of a better reply.

It was this occasional interchange at ‘lunch’ and afterwards, when Peter went out for his exercise in the afternoon that kept them sane. He stepped through the door into the exercise yard and was momentarily blinded by the brightness as he looked around. The yard, enclosed by a twenty foot high wall, was some twenty metres wide yet only ten metres long; the only door was the one he had come out of. This door opened in the middle of a long side with two windows either side it. These were the only breaks in the walled enclosure apart from a walkway on top of the wall at either end. Under foot it was hard packed dusty gravel with a track worn into it all the way round. Three men, a big guy talking to his companion followed by another older man were already shuffling along in an anti clockwise direction.

‘Not much chance of making a break out of here.’ He thought as he turned and followed the three prisoners. ‘Now was not the time to walk in the other direction,’ he mused. ‘I don’t want to cause trouble... yet.’ An hour later he was back in his cell, his treat for the day completed. The following day started with all the appearances of being a repeat of the previous one. It was only when Peter asked a guard if he may take his exercise at the same time as Helen, when things began to happen. First there was a flat refusal, ‘male and female prisoners cannot exercise at the same time.’ But with a little persistence he managed to talk to the head guard. At that stage he still had his wristwatch, a few moments later a deal was done and the watch had a new owner. But would the guard stick to the deal? Apparently, it transpired, he was an ‘honest’ man because half an hour later they were led out to the exercise yard together.

Helen’s face at first lit up with delight when she saw Peter, only to descend into gloom as it brought home the fact that she would never again see David’s face and never again be able to walk with him. She walked beside Peter, but left a gap between them. “What happened to us Peter, why did they shoot David? He never hurt a fly; he was such a mild man. What did they have to do that for?”

“I don’t know Helen, I don’t know. I guess someone thinks we know too much and sent those men to rough us up. But even that doesn’t make sense. Why kidnap us and bring us here? They can’t keep us here indefinitely.”

Helen stopped and turned towards him. “That was good of them to let us exercise together wasn’t it? It’s so worrying to just sit there, wonder what will happen and not have anyone to talk to.”

“Yes! Well it was a good watch,” said Peter rubbing his wrist as they started walking again.

“Oh! Is that why they let us out together; you swapped your watch just for this. Peter you shouldn’t have, surely it was worth more than that.”

“Don’t worry, I figured that within a few days we will be moved or something. There’s no way they would let me keep it. Now listen, I managed to have a whispered conversation with the guy next door to me. He reckons that soon, in the next day or two, we’ll be transported to another jail. Either to the Sao Agusta court for trial or something, or possibly, up in the mountains, into the interior, to get us out of the way. If they take us to Sao Agusta then we should be able to contact the embassy and sort this out. But personally I think they have gone too far already and we will be sent into the mountains or something. Then you will need warmer cloths and a change. Do you have anything?”

“Well I had a couple of pairs of under things in my pack but most of my immediate things are in David’s pack, the rest of my stuff is back at the hotel.”

“That figures! We need those things; maybe they will give us our packs back. You could also do with a mosquito net to sleep under. Does he have... sorry!” Helen nodded in the affirmative as Peter continued, “I don’t suppose David brought it with him did he?”

Helen again nodded in reply. “Yes! I think he put it in one of the side pockets of his pack before we left the hotel.”

“Then bring it, if you get half a chance.”

“Do you think they will let us get our things, could we some how get the rest of our stuff?”

“Possibly! If we manage to get to the hotel then never mind the suitcases. Put it all in your back pack.” He had a quick look around to ensure they were not near enough to anyone to be over heard. “I’ve been thinking about that, maybe if we offer to pay the hotel bill, or some other pretext. I have a distinct feeling that we are going to need all the gear we are allowed to take.”

“I only have my small pack, but David’s!” She paused for a moment to catch her breath as memories came flooding back. “We had them in the Land Rover. I could use his, but I don’t know what they’ve done with them. Yours was there too, would they let us keep them?”

“That’s the million dollar question. Just try and keep as much stuff as you can; wear two of everything if you get a chance.”

“Two pairs of underclothes? I don’t think I will need that with jeans, we would have to go awfully high for it to be that cold.”

“I’m not thinking of the cold, but if they pinch your back pack what then.”

“Oh! Yes I see, I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“Now one other thing, I know this will be difficult but you have to make yourself as unattractive as possible. Strap your bust in flat, wear loose clothing and dirty your face a bit, we don’t want guards to be attracted to you. Try and fade into the background... Don’t do anything to draw attention to your self.”

Helen suddenly stopped walking, looked at him, biting her lip at the same time half smiling at the back handed compliment. “Look Peter, if you think I’m going to let myself go and slink away like a whipped puppy then think again. These people don’t frighten me. I’m not craven and I won’t be beaten down.” She almost stamped her foot in annoyance. “We haven't done anything but defend ourselves.”

“Don’t be silly it’s not about right and wrong, it’s about survival. And you need to be frightened of them. You don’t want the guards to take a fancy to you. You don’t want to be molested or even raped do you?” Peter was deliberately being brutal and trying to shock her in to understanding the full situation but added gently in an attempt to cheer her up. “We’ll get our own back when we escape, because I’m not going to stay in some mangy prison for the best part of my life.”

They walked on in silence, one circuit, then a second, neither saying a word whilst thinking over what had been said. At last Helen broke the silence, “Do you think there will be any chance of escaping? This place doesn’t look very promising. What if they separate us... send us to different jails? If one of us did get out, if I got out, what then? Where would I go?”

“Okay! They may separate us. If we do go to different jails then you will have to lookout for yourself. If you get out then try for the UK or US embassy, or any other embassy for that mater. But only if you’re quick. They will close all routes into the embassies as soon as they now you are missing. Another alternative is any foreign ship in port. I don’t think you will be able to walk out of the country. The hills to the North are too high without the right gear and East is the rain forest, the Andes and Brazil, definitely a no go. South the border is just too far away, take too long... Don’t bother going anywhere near the airport, that and the embassy will be their number one priority when they realise you’re missing.”

“But Peter, if only one of us gets out won’t that put pressure on the other, the repercussions could be horrendous.”

“True! But if either of us gets away, the furore that would ensue may well stay their hand.”

“So what are you saying, if I hear that you have escaped I should warn them if they try to take it out on me. I don’t think they would take much notice.”

“Look Helen I haven’t worked it out, I’m just pushing ideas about... If a warning came from our embassy though, that could work, or the (IMAF), you're sort of indirectly working for them. So don’t forget to use that card as well.”

“That’s not much use when the (IMAF) are investigating David and me.”

Peter was astonished and stopped in his tracks. “Investigating you! They’re not investigating you or David. Where did that come from?”

Helen stopped and they faced each other. “Well you were investigating me, else why did you deceived me?”

“When? I haven’t deceived you.”

“You did so! When we sat down to dinner in Edinburgh you implied you didn’t know me.”

“And I didn’t. I didn’t know you from Adam... or rather Eve... until you told me that is.”

“Only my first name, we only introduced our selves with first names.”

Peter thought back to that evening whilst searching her face and then smiled. The smile slowly infused the whole of his face and spread into his eyes. “Ah!” he said, leaning forward. “That’s because I can add 2 and 2 and make 4.”

Helen hearing the words and seeing the smile backed down slightly, as covered in confusion, it brought a frown to her brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Peter was not about to let her off the hook too easily and said, as if talking to a child. “Husband... David... Giving a lecture next day... Me attending a lecture, to be given by David Mirand... Next day. Hence... Mrs Mirand.”

“Oh! ... I’m sorry. I thought... we thought you were checking on us.”

“No I wasn’t. Your name, it was only a guess. A stupid one at that.”

They continued their walking, their minds elsewhere, the only distraction being the guards changing on the walkway at either end of the yard and the gradually reducing shade as the sun climbed toward its zenith. There was no movement of air in the courtyard, even this early in the season it was hot and they had both worked up a sweat by the time their hour was up when they were called in. “Remember what I said Helen, be proud inside yourself, but don’t let the guards see it.”

Helen turned to him, a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “Peter... thanks, now I’m trying to work out how to keep my chin up but look downcast. See you later... or tomorrow.”

The rest of the day passed uneventful. They didn’t see each other again until early the following morning when they were taken from their cells and ushered into the office of the jail commandant. Standing in front of his desk they had a few moments in which to look around. On the desk were the usual telephone, pen-holder and a photograph frame. An open file lay in front of him whilst behind, a window overlooked the exercise yard and cast his face in shadow. Against the far wall sat two grey metal filing cabinets and opposite the desk were two hard chairs ranged against the wall, a picture of a smiling El Presidante hung on the wall above them.

The commandant, Seņor Mario Trujillo was a round well fed man with a surprisingly pleasant manner as he spoke to them in good English. He almost apologised as he explained, it was no use complaining to him because he was only the jailer. He was just doing as he was told. It was all out of his hands. Others would make the decision of what happened to them. First, after being seated, they were told to recount how their companion was killed whilst he laboriously transcribed it. This took a particularly long time as he translating it into Spanish as they recounted their tale. The only indication he gave was an occasional raised eyebrow as they described the fight. When they concluded he asked one question. “And your injuries Seņor, what did you suffer.”

“I was deafened by the shot and kicked in the ribs. Other than that just a few scratches.”

He turned to Helen “Seņora?”

“My husband was murdered. Is that not enough?”

At last it was finished. He turned it around for them to read and after a short pause, asked them to sign it.

“No!” said Peter.

“But Seņor you must sign it. It is an accurate translation of what you have just told me.”

“No! I have no doubt you translated it correctly but I will not sign anything written in Spanish, I do not understand your language well enough, and besides I cannot read it.”

The commandant was a little nonplussed and offered the pen to Helen, who taking her queue from Peter, shook her head and said nothing.

The commandant then added another few lines before signing it with a flourish. Then without pressing the point any further they were escorted back to their cells.

* * *

Late that afternoon Fidel was sitting in the uncomfortable chair in the ministers office, they were both drinking coffee. He had been telling Noberto about how the gringos had been taken, according to his men, yet was holding in his hand the very papers from the jail commandant. He proffered them to Noberto. “And this is the gringos account.”

Noberto took the papers and read.

“Whose story do you believe then?” The minister asked.

“Oh! There is no question about it, theirs is the truth. Those four ‘Specials’ were taken completely by surprise at the response they received. That woman is a wild cat. She not only broke three fingers of one of them but then she clawed half the face off Pablo whilst he held a gun on her. And the guy Seņor Harding, he’s no softy. He broke the nose of the biggest of the Specials and kneed him in the groin, putting him on the floor. The one that Pablo shot Seņor Mirand, he had just broken two ribs of his man and was kneeling down to finish him off when he was shot... They know how to handle themselves those... two.”

“So what are you going to do with the soldiers? Not only are they incompetent but they lied to you didn’t they?”

“That’s already taken care of. Pablo has been demoted and returned to the ranks. Jose, he was the one on the motorbike. He can’t ride for a while with broken fingers. I have told their commandant to give those three all the shit jobs that are going. They are going to get fed up with cleaning and painting during the next few months.”

Noberto paused for a moment, thinking, was this enough? ‘I suppose so.’ - “Now... the two prisoners... This woman and the guy, what injuries did they receive?”

Fidel laughed at this. “Would you believe it... nothing? Not a damn thing. Apart from the guy who now has a bruised rib cage, I think Pablo thought shooting one of them dead was enough. I only told him to rough them up, soften them a bit, before bringing them in.”

Noberto looked at him in astonishment. “You’re kidding! You mean they didn’t hurt them after they had been roughed up themselves. That does surprise me... Okay! What do we do with them? Get them out of the way as soon as -. You are sure about that prison in the mountains?”

Si! I por supuesto! ... No problem, they will be on the truck to take them there day after tomorrow.”

“You had better make sure that they are not seen in the meantime. We don’t want some embassy guy around asking questions.”

“They won’t be seen in the jail, I’ll get the truck to start early and have them covered in the back... Anything else?”

The minister pondered for a moment. “When are you going to get started with that... Shaun guy? How long will it take to break him?”

“You can’t rush these things Noberto; I’ll start with him in a couple of days, when he has had a week without anyone talking to him. I shouldn’t think it will take long to bring him round. Then I will have to let him go.”

“Let him go! What for? That’s a bit dangerous isn’t it?”

“He will be of no use if we can’t trust him. Just a little.” Fidel brought his finger and thumb close together for emphasis. “Only within limits and in return I must let him trust us. I’ll have someone keep an eye on him. But he won’t have very much money and no passport. Where can he go?”

* * *

The next couple of days passed uneventfully for Peter and Helen. They exercised separately in the afternoons and only occasionally caught a glimpse of each other. Peter tried to get the rest of their clothes on the premise of paying the hotel bill, but even that was denied him. It was the afternoon of the third day that they were able to speak to each other again. They were taken to the office of the commandant and again left standing in front of his desk. Little had changed except the two chairs had been replaced by their jackets and three back packs from the Land Rover which were propped against the wall in their place. He then told them they would be transported to another prison in the morning. “It’s high up in the mountains so you may need some warm clothes, so you may sort out some from your luggage.” He nodded towards the wall behind them. “Only what you can put on or carry.”

“Can we take our back packs?”

“For the moment yes but they will probably be taken off you later,” he replied. Pushing back his chair the commandant stood. “Go ahead, do it now,” And turning his back on them gazed out at the courtyard. Peter looked at Helen and raised his eyebrows before they quickly opened the back packs. It was immediately obvious that everything had been searched; all their possessions had been heaped back in and squashed down. Anything of intrinsic value was gone. Mercifully their sneakers were still there, along with two empty water bottles. Helen took David’s pack and after putting the underclothes from her pack into pockets of her jacket she transferred the rest to the bigger pack. At the last moment Peter checked for the mosquito net, it was still in one of the pockets, before announcing they were ready. The commandant slowly turned and looked them over, “Now you must return to your cells.” He was about to call the guard back in when Peter half raised his hand in a gesture. “A moment please... Can you tell us what this is all about, why have we been fitted up like this.”

“I’m sorry! No I can’t, I can’t tell you anything.”

“Okay! You can’t tell us anything, I understand that, but could you at least get a message to our embassy? Tell them where we are being taken! Just put a note through the door!”

The commandant rolled his eyes at this request then shaking his head walked to the door and called the guard to take them back to the cells. The rest of the day was uneventful as meal times came and went, at least tonight they would be able to sleep warm with their extra clothing. At this time of the year the temperature dropped considerably during the night.

* * *

The commandant of the prison sat down heavily after they had left, he shuffled the pages of the file and glanced again at the sentence imposed. 'Indefinitely!' He had watched them talking as they walked round the yard the day before. He flipped the file over, case closed, slapping his hand on the cover as if to emphasise the finality. Then rose and opened the top drawer of the filing cabinet, pausing in the act of putting the file in the drawer. ‘Perhaps! It would be good to help such a man and that woman too. She had... charisma? No that’s not right she had... ‘IT’. Yes! Despite being in the cells for six days that was the best way of describing her, she had ‘IT’. Whatever ‘IT’ was. Dare he help! No! It would be much too dangerous.’ Slamming the drawer of the filing cabinet; he returned to his desk. Nonetheless it left him with an uncomfortable feeling for the rest of the day.

Later that evening at home, after the children were in bed, he was relaxing and mentioned the episode to his wife. “No! Definitely not, you must be crazy even to think of helping them. You have a good safe job and steady money. We have a nice house. You can’t jeopardise all that for some gringo and his woman. They probably wanted her husband dead anyhow. Let it go, don’t do anything on impulse.”

Yes! He had to agree they were very comfortable; it would probably have been a waste of time anyhow. 'Indefinitely!' He had a restless night and the first thing that came to him when he awoke was. 'Indefinitely!' Later when he arrived at the jail and entered his office it hit him again, 'Indefinitely!' But what could he do? If he wrote a letter, they may pass it to Internal Affairs who could compare the handwriting. If he typed it, there was a possibility they would trace the typewriter. He didn’t have access to a computer and printer. He sat forward elbows on the desk and rubbed the last of the sleep from his eyes as they wondered across the desk lighting on the telephone. ‘Yes! He could telephone... but not from here... a public call box? That would be Okay, disguise his voice in case they taped it and passed the tape on to the Internal Affairs.’ He made a decision, that’s what he’ll do. When? ... Soon! His conscious eased, and with that decided he leant back and started his normal day.



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