“That’d be great. God knows Phil wasn’t lying in there; it takes about a pound of paperwork and a lifetime of patience to get old case files pulled from the city’s archives. If we’re lucky, we’ll get access to the same info in a mere six weeks or so. Meaning it would be very helpful if you could just look the info up, at least for now.”

“First thing when I get home.”

“Perfect. In the meantime, let’s speak with the superintendent. If anyone knows how your sister might be making contact with the outside world, it’s gotta be her.”

• • •

SUPERINTENDENT MCKINNON WAS BLUNT on the subject:

“Communicate with the outside world? Please, most of these inmates are having sex in a no-contact facility. Talking is the least of our concerns.”

According to the superintendent, the methods used for communication between inmates were numerous and ingenious. While Shana was confined to a maximum-security cell, she regularly checked out books from the roving library cart, ordered items from the prison commissary and received food trays three times a day. In prison life, each transaction was an opportunity to send or receive a message, whether a handwritten note, a hastily whispered word or a carefully crafted code.

“Sad to say,” Superintendent McKinnon, “some of the inmates’ communications are even assisted by the guards, in return for money, drugs, sexual favors. Now, Shana is hardly a favorite, as you can imagine, but the other inmate, the one she’s in contact with, might be. And there are inmates willing to assist with these kinds of transactions if only to relieve their boredom. Bottom line: We have only an hour or two a quarter to evaluate our policies and revise our procedures, while the inmates spend twenty-four/seven, three hundred and sixty-five days a year figuring out how to beat the system. Why, there are women in here clever enough and capable enough to run Fortune 500 companies, if only they’d focused their powers on good instead of evil.”

“Is there an inmate Shana’s close to? A friend, either past or present?”

Superintendent McKinnon frowned slightly. “Not that I’m aware of, which is the more surprising piece of this puzzle. Most inmates forge relationships. Even a female as hardened as Shana . . . there are younger, more vulnerable inmates who’d look up to that sort of thing. And whether she identifies herself as straight or gay, most lifers end up with a partner. But to the best of my knowledge, Shana has never had even a girlfriend.”

“She’s never mentioned anyone to me,” I spoke up.