Whether the Hairdresser was the soul of a living person or a dead person, or whether he was some kind of ancient demon, she didn’t know. But the way he got around like he did without ever getting caught and the nasty things he did to his victims put her in no doubt that he was quite definitely a duppy.

A small movement on the floor suddenly snagged her attention. She froze. Something had scuttled out from under her bunk.

A cockroach.

She stared petrified as it crawled along the edge of the cell towards her.

The Hairdresser…

At any moment he would change back into human form and pull out his knife and then… and then…

She whimpered and swallowed, barely able to draw breath, so constricted was her throat by the raw fear which gripped her entire body.

The cockroach paused in a beam of moonlight, its long black antennae wavering. She braced herself for the transformation. But it didn’t happen. The cockroach just sat there. She could feel it watching her.

‘Mi duh nah fear duppies,’ she whispered hoarsely, but she had no faith in what she was saying.

The cockroach edged forward to within a few centimetres of her big toe. She jerked her foot back.

She reached into the tangle of her afro and pulled out her razor blade. It was deceptively light and insubstantial, but it was deadly if used in the right way. And she knew how to use it.

She held it out in front of her between thumb and forefinger, the dull steel glinting in the moonlight.

‘Guh wey evil duppy,’ she hissed.

The cockroach twiddled its antennae a little more, then it turned and scuttled away underneath the cell door and out into the prison.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

No duppy was going to get Mel tonight.

No way.

No. way.

Chapter 77

Bailey looked at her watch. In forty minutes’ time she was supposed to meet up with Toni and the rest of the gang out in the yard. No reason had been given for the meeting, only that it was of crucial importance that they all attend.

Forty minutes. That should hopefully give her enough time to do what she needed to do.

Casually lounging against the banister, she turned her attention back to the second-floor landing of C-Wing which she had been observing from her position at the juncture of the four house-blocks.

Her concentration was focused specifically on the fourth cell on the right, the one she had been staking out all morning.

After a few minutes more, Agata finally emerged, walking in the direction of the central stairwell. She passed by, oblivious to Bailey’s presence. As she did so, Bailey noticed that she appeared to be wearing make-up – a hint of mascara and a touch of lip gloss, if she wasn’t mistaken.

Bailey waited a few moments, then pushed herself off the banister and followed her down the metal stairs, keeping at a safe distance. Agata descended all the way down to the ground floor and made her way across the atrium, looking at her watch as if she had an appointment to keep. She disappeared down the stairwell which led to the prison basement. Bailey sped up her pace, determined not to lose her.