‘SILENCE’ read the sign above the librarian’s desk. It stated what was quite clearly apparent. The place was completely dead. The librarian was nowhere to be seen and there didn’t appear to be anyone else in here.
Bailey stood there by the entrance briefly and then ventured down one of the aisles in search of Jacqui. She trailed her fingers along the spines of the books, inhaling the musty smell, thinking to herself that it was a pity this tatty collection of texts wasn’t better funded.
She turned down another aisle. Still no sign of the librarian. It was quiet, too quiet…
She stopped, turned around to retrace her footsteps… and jumped in surprise.
Jacqui was standing just a few centimetres away from her, peering at her over the tops of her half-moon glasses. How did she do that?
‘Change your mind about wanting to borrow that poetry book?’ rasped Jacqui, a vague undercurrent of menace in her voice.
‘Er… not exactly. Although I was wondering if you could help me with something.’
‘What are you looking for?’
‘It’s not a book I’m looking for exactly.’
Bailey tried to think of the best way to phrase it without causing possible offence.
‘Last time I was here, you mentioned that you’d been in here for quite a while.’
Jacqui nodded slowly. ‘That’s right. Eleven years. Got a further seven to do. Why?’
‘So you probably have a good knowledge of who’s been locked up here in the past?’
‘Not really. I keep myself to myself. I find it works better that way. I’m barely acquainted with anyone in here. I’m like a hermit. The only people whose names I’m familiar with are those who use the library. And that’s not many people, as you can see. Why do you ask?’
Bailey felt disappointment weigh down upon her. Maybe it had been a waste of time to come here. ‘Well, it’s a bit of a long shot really, but do you know any inmate who would have had the name F. Lee?’
Jacqui pondered for a few moments, tapping her lip with a large tattooed finger.
‘There is one name that springs to mind.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘Felicia Lee.’
‘Felicia Lee?’
‘Anyone who’s been in here longer than two years knows the name of Felicia Lee, even a recluse like me.’
‘Why? What’s so special about Felicia Lee?’
‘Well, when she was in here, no one paid her much attention. She kept herself to herself. If you asked me what she looked like, I wouldn’t be able to tell you. It’s what she did subsequently which made her famous. Or perhaps “infamous” is a better word to use.’
Bailey found herself seized with a sudden excitement. She was onto something. She knew it.
‘What did she do?’ she asked breathlessly.
‘She escaped. It’s prison legend. One day she just disappeared without trace. And they never figured out how she did it. And she’s never been caught. She’s still a fugitive to this day, I believe.’
Bailey racked her mind as to what possible connection there could be between Felicia Lee and Sharon and the murders, if indeed there was any kind of connection…
‘What was she in for?’
‘She murdered her baby.’ Jacqui wrinkled her nose. ‘Bashed its skull in apparently.’
‘Jesus!’
‘Why are you so curious about Felicia Lee?’
‘You know Sharon who was murdered in the prison kitchen? She wrote the name “F Lee” in her own blood as she lay dying. And I’m wondering if she was referring to Felicia Lee.’
‘How odd.’ Jacqui paused. ‘Well, I suppose it’s not completely random. After all, they did use to be cellmates.’