Free Slammer by Allan Guthrie Page A

explained.
    'Oh, Officer,' Jasmine said, pouting.
    Glass took the notes out of his pocket. Tossed them at Caesar. 'I don't want your money.'
    Caesar said, 'Up to you. But I suppose you should pay for what you took.'
    Glass had redistributed the bags. No way Caesar could have noticed, not without weighing the contents. 'I didn't take anything.'
    'It's light.'
    'That's all I got.'
    'That so?' Caesar said. 'You want a little for yourself, I don't mind. Especially if you don't want paid. But don't think you can steal from me. If I hear of you dealing—'
    'I'd never—'
    'That's right. Never. And one more thing,' Caesar said. 'Next pick-up will be a week on Tuesday. Same place. Same time.'
    'No way,' Glass said. 'I can't.'
    'You're on nights that week. Course you can. Should be even easier.'
     
    *
     
    Later, during the hour of free association after dinner, Mafia walked towards Glass outside the TV room.
    'That you, Officer Glass?'
    Sometimes Glass thought Mafia had to be putting it on. Wasn't possible that somebody could be so blind, especially with glasses on. But someone must have seen Mafia's medical records before he was authorised to wear shades 24/7.
    'It's me, yeah.'
    Mafia muttered, 'Can you spare a few minutes?'
    'What is it?'
    'Just want to talk.'
    'Okay. Your peter?'
    'Nah, folk'll see us. They'll gossip. They gossip enough. Where can we go for a bit of privacy?'
    'This is a prison. It's not designed for privacy.'
    'Thanks for pointing that out. An expert already and you've only been here … six weeks?'
    'Seven.'
    'Forgive me. Extra week makes all the difference.'
    'I know where we can go.' Glass started to walk away and Mafia followed, standing on Glass's heel. He apologised but Glass had the feeling it was deliberate.
     
    *
     
    The education block consisted of four classrooms. Today, only one was occupied.
    Glass led Mafia along to the room at the end. He swung his key chain. Fiddled around for the right key. Unlocked it.
    Inside, a cold breeze was blowing into the room. The windows were open but barred, like all the windows in the prison.
    Glass went over, closed one window, then the other.
    On the whiteboard, someone had scribbled some mathematical equations that meant nothing to him. He'd always preferred English. He'd been good at English. Enjoyed words. He'd been planning on studying English at university. Or maybe music. If he'd practised his guitar a bit more.
    Mafia took off his shades.
    Glass said, 'What's this about?'
    'Come over here, I can't see you.'
    Glass walked forwards. Stopped a couple of feet in front of him.
    'You mind?' Mafia reached out a hand, touched Glass's chin.
    It felt odd, this man's fingers touching his face, but he stood where he was, watching Mafia's eyes dart about in their sockets.
    Mafia traced his jawline, then moved his hand over Glass's cheek.
    Then:
    WHAM.
    Out of nowhere.
    Glass reeled backwards, the taste of blood in his mouth. He spun off the edge of a desk, almost went down. Felt like he'd bitten his tongue, but the blood was coming from his lower lip. It was swelling already, tasted raw. He braced himself for another whack, but Mafia hadn't moved.
    'I can't let that pass,' Glass said. Why the hell had Mafia done that? Glass really couldn't let it pass. Letting an inmate hit him without reporting it wasn't possible. Not even if that inmate was Mafia. And even if it was, after what Mafia had just done, Glass didn't care. Mafia deserved whatever was coming to him. What the fuck was wrong with him?
    Mafia said, 'You can let it pass if you want.'
    'You're going on report. They'll ghost you out of here.'
    'Gosh. Got all the slang now, haven't you?' Mafia paused to shake his head. 'Maybe the governor will be interested to know you're bringing drugs in for Caesar.'
    Cold crept out of the air and into Glass's body. The backs of his legs first, behind his knees, then up his legs and into his spine until he could feel it in the back of his neck. 'I can't believe Caesar told you.'