your cookies, for the sandwich??James asked.
Cant,?Dave said, as the tip of his tongue lapped up an oily streak dribbling down his chin.
Come on,?James begged. Thate a good trade, one cookie for a whole sandwich.?
Ilready eaten them, though,?Dave said.
James fumed as he slumped down on his mattress. The only things het eaten all day were two cookies and a few forced mouthfuls of sandwich. He was getting serious hunger pangs and knew theyt get worse through the night.
Cid you get your commissary form??Dave asked. ite in the food bag.?
James found his folded sheet of paper and a stubby ?too short to stab someone with ?pencil. His inmate number was scrawled at the top of the form and he started reading the commissary rules printed on the back.
To discourage bullying, gambling and drug dealing, inmates werent allowed cash. Every prisoner got a commissary account and up to $50 per week could be paid in by a friend or relative on the outside. Prisoners got a commissary form every week and you put a tick next to whatever items you wanted to order, up to your spending limit. The hundreds of items ranged from miniature TVs at $99, down to phone-cards, Marlboro cigarettes, hair mousse, strawberry pop tarts and Reesee peanut butter cups.
According to James?form, the balance of his account was $103.17, which included $20 given to all young inmates by a prisoners?welfare charity and $83.17 that had supposedly been transferred from a commissary account in Nebraska.
Abe came over to the foot of James?bed, holding a cookie and his commissary form.
it not hungry,?Abe said, smiling like he wanted a favour.
Cheers,?James said, snapping the cookie in half and downing it in two bites.
i dont get this,?Abe said, waving the form.
James took the form and started explaining how the commissary worked. All Abe had in his account was $20 from the charity.
Hou抣l need to speak with your mum, or whoever, and try to get them to pay money in every week,?James explained. Hou should buy a ten-dollar phone-card first, so you can call her.?
Ind these??Abe asked, running his finger down the list of items.
Hou tick the box for whatever you want, hand in the form and collect your parcel a few days later.?
Can you help me choose? I dont read so good.?
James grabbed Abee form and ticked the box next to where it said phone-card. He looked up and realised there were two guys closing in. The absence of cash was supposed to discourage extortion and bullying amongst the inmates, but all it really did was turn the commissary forms themselves into a kind of currency.
To Raymond and Stanley Duff, the sight of two new prisoners with commissary forms had the same effect as a shark sniffing blood in the water. The red-headed brothers werent quite among the celle elite, but they were hard enough to hold a place near the top of the pecking order. They were fifteen and sixteen, heavy-set, with flabby stomachs sagging over the waistbands of their shorts.
The Duff brothers were serving life without parole for kidnapping and murdering an eight-year-old girl. Nearly all of James?cellmates were killers, but this was the crime that got under his skin when he read about it. The dimple-cheeked victim pictured in the newspaper clipping had been born two days after Lauren and even looked a little like her.
Le抣l help Skinny with his commissary,?Raymond, the younger of the brothers, grinned as he reached out to snatch the form off James.
Rob him blind, more like,?James said, scurrying backwards across his bed to keep the form out of reach.
Hou dont want to give us trouble,?Raymond said, tutting and shaking his head.
Dave stood up and faced off the two redheads.
慙ay one finger on my brother, I dare you.?
Anyone could have worked out that Dave packed muscle where Stanley had flab, but brainpower didnt seem to be the Duff brothers?forte.
Stanley swung his thick arm. The punch might have hurt, but Dave could have sat on his bed and clipped his toenails in the time it would have taken to connect. After easily intercepting the fist, Dave plunged an elbow into Stanleye guts, before sweeping his feet from under him as he doubled over in pain.
James remembered what Scott said about going in hard. He sprung up and charged at Raymond. His chunky opponent stumbled backwards across the aisle under a blitz of well-aimed punches, ending up spread-eagled on Abee bed with a bloody nose and split lip.
James jumped on top and pinned Raymonde arms to his side. James could