‘Ah duppy killed her,’ said Mel, her voice rising an octave.

‘Duppies don’t exist,’ sneered Kay. ‘Just like Santa doesn’t exist.’

Mel fixed her with a baleful stare. ‘Duppies a real! Mo real dan yuh can know! Inna Jamaica everyone knows dat duppies a real! De duppy ah guh fi guh cum inna here an guh fi guh kill wi aal!’

Seema and Kay glanced at each other. When Mel started talking in patois, it meant she was working herself up into one of her frenzies, and once she got going it was never quite certain what the consequences could be. They didn’t call her Crazy Mel for nothing.

Seema grabbed the stack of origami paper and shoved it at Mel. Mel started folding furiously, obsessively constructing an origami duck, folding the paper back and forth. Faster and faster. Like a blur. Her eyes wide.

They watched her, strangely fascinated.

The completed duck tumbled onto the floor alongside the other origami creatures. Seema picked it up and began to string it onto a length of cotton.

Mel plucked another sheet of paper and started another creature, the haunted look never leaving her eyes.

Kay and Seema weren’t in the mood to discuss biscuits any more.

Chapter 43

The morning meeting wasn’t going well for the Governor. The prison officers, sprawled across the chairs in front of him, seemed to be in a particularly defiant mood today.

‘I think I can speak for all of us,’ said Terry, ‘when I say that security is quite clearly a systemic issue within this prison. There have been three murders now. Three brutal murders.’

‘The last one happened inside the segregation block,’ said Amber. ‘That’s maximum security. That’s supposed to be one of the safest places in the prison.’

‘I’m well aware of the implications,’ snapped the Governor. ‘This is both completely unprecedented and completely unacceptable.’

He sternly scanned the assembled prison officers.

‘I have been talking to the police and we are both of the opinion that a member of staff may have been involved in some way.’

He let his words hang ominously in the air. He scrutinised each of them in turn, hoping to detect a shifty lowering of the eyes or some other physical giveaway indicative of guilt.

The officers themselves were looking around now, regarding each other anew, their perceptions of their colleagues tainted with the seeds of suspicion. The atmosphere was one of unease and uncertainty.

The Governor had them on the back foot now and he was pleased about that. It made him feel like he was in control again.

‘The police will be questioning you all in depth and they will get to the bottom of it,’ he said. ‘And you will extend your fullest co-operation towards them.’

They muttered and groaned and exchanged resentful looks with each other.

‘Why are we the ones who are being treated as criminals?’ remarked Terry. ‘We’re just trying to do our jobs the best we can.’

‘You will co-operate with the police,’ repeated the Governor. ‘And you will help them get to the bottom of it.’