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The screaming wind whipped up brittle leaves like corn flakes in a blender, desperately trying to punch holes in the unbreakable glass that separated me from a world I was no longer part of.

I watched enviously as rain droplets fell on ground I had not walked on for almost two months.

The storm clouds had prematurely advanced the autumnal evening, and as it was before seven o clock, there was no power to my room. The pitiful offering afforded by the ground’s security floodlights outlined my meagre furnishings.

In the corner, the all-seeing camera eye studied my every move. I could just make out the silhouette of my unyielding bed and a partition which separated the toilet from the rest of my room. The single shelf I was permitted held a lone, unopened book.

My one privilege.

I pressed my forehead against the pane, fingers of cold creeping over my skin and starting a dull ache in my skull as I stared out into the darkness. In my mind I was out there. I could smell the night. I was part of it. I could hear the whup-whup of wings as an owl hunted to survive against an ominous sky and muffled, far-away screams floated on autumn winds through the blackness and into my senses, I could feel it - but most of all - I could feel her.

35946JJ, that was me.

Referred to no longer by name, merely by a number in a long list of misfits - somewhere between a mother of two who had decided that her abusive husband had beaten her for the last time and a young girl who could only find release with a razor blade. My reason for being here however, set me apart somewhat from the other detainees.

As my mind wandered like a drunk through a maze, taking me to the one place I remained untouchable, I tried to imagine how she was coping, if she was thinking about me. She was my alter ego, my soul mate, the other part of me and I wasn't coping without her, but she was on the outside, probably continuing our quest and doing it alone.

The supper bell broke my train of thought as it reverberated through The Icehouse, ricocheting off metal rafters, seeping through the clogged pores of prison breezeblock walls and resonating in my ears. I felt unfamiliar tears sliding down my cheeks, blurring my normally accustomed night-vision. I soaked them up with the swipe of a sleeve. I was feared in here - respected. I couldn't afford any display of weakness. While the others were in awe of me they would leave me alone.

The unexpected sound of electronic bolts sliding back roused me and I shielded watery eyes as my heavy cell door opened and bathed my room with synthetic light. I squinted at the slender silhouette leant casually against the frame.

"Miss Jordan?"

"Expecting someone else?” I was angry at being caught off-guard.

The visitor entered the cell without invitation. I sensed immediately from her elocution, sharp dress and confident posture that she was no ordinary member of staff.

"Can I help you?" I tried to sound indifferent but could not disguise my curiosity. So far, nobody had allowed themselves to get too close to me unless absolutely necessary, and never alone. Adding to my surprise, she strode the few steps to my bunk and sat without invitation, leaving no doubt who she felt was in charge.

"Not interrupting anything, am I?" She smiled at me. "I like to get to know all the girls, no matter what they're in for."

I met her stare, returning her smile and watched as she patted the bed to suggest I sit too. She refused to look away, hazel eyes steadfast in the semi-darkness, making clear it was my move.

To my annoyance, she had my respect.

“I’d offer you tea, but--” I gestured around the cell and smiled again.

My visitor smiled back. “Don’t worry. Refreshments will be brought along shortly. Real coffee, not that instant rubbish that they normally serve. And some decent food. For two.”

I looked at her in surprise. “Do I know you?”

“I’m sorry.” She stood up and extended a hand. Lisa Carlisle. Doctor Carlisle to the staff. You can call me Lisa.”

I opted to play along, curiosity winning out. I saw her eyes widen as my hand slipped into hers.

“You’re cold. Let me sort the heating.” She lifted her mobile but I gestured restraint.

“I’m fine. The cold doesn’t bother me. Not anymore. You knew that, surely?”

She laughed, a warm, genuine sound, like wind charms. Suddenly my cell didn't feel so lonely. "Yes, I read the papers, Jessie. I can call you Jessie can't I?"

Begrudgingly, I nodded my consent. As if she needed it. I took my seat next to her. Her confidence impressed me. No sign of being intimidated.

“There’s some interesting stories out there about you, Jessie. You’re quite the celebrity, you know.”

I smiled. “I try my best. So you’re a doctor. Have you come to examine me? To see if the stories are true? I hope you’re not going to take blood, I’m awfully squeamish.”

“Not that sort of doctor, Jessie. I’m the resident forensic psychologist. My job’s to assess your state of mind. To decide whether you are a risk to yourself or the others in the unit. And to determine whether you are fit to stand trial.”

I raised my eyebrow theatrically. “Whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?" The unoriginality of my question made me cringe.

Lisa smiled. "Jessie, as I understand it you are on CCTV murdering your last victim. They have matched your DNA to, what was the last count, seven murders? There's not a lot of room for pleading innocent."

I shrugged. “I wasn’t planning to.”

“Maybe I can help you?.”

“Help me what? I killed them.”

Lisa looked into my eyes. “That doesn’t mean you need to go down for murder. There are alternatives. Manslaughter on grounds of diminished responsibility, for example.”

“My responsibility is entirely undiminished, Dr. Carlisle. It was cold-blooded murder.” A quick flick of my eyebrows and a widening of my eyes for extra effect and I had her full attention.

I don't know why I chose to tell her my story. I suppose I trusted her, and besides, she could never prove what I said. It was just the two of us, and the food she had sent up. She disabled the camera somehow. Total privacy.

Lisa produced a small, silver hip flask full of whisky, although she ended up drinking most of it herself. Of course, I could have killed her at any time. But she was more useful to me alive, and to be honest, I was beginning to warm to her.



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Saff. xx

Prologue



Equilibrium ~ a state of balance



The courtroom walls seemed to bulge before my eyes as yet more people attempted to squeeze into the already over-crowded public gallery.

I smiled, despite the profound sense of desperate loss that had settled ‘ad infinitum’ in the pit of my stomach. Gabrielle would have loved this. No, I argued with myself, she would have basked in it, lapped it up like a retiring actor’s last curtain call.

My stomach lurched and contracted as the image of her face swam behind my closed eyelids and I gripped the rail before me with my remaining strength. I summoned it from the very depths of my soul, gathered the love that we had once shared and squeezed it until it gasped its last breath and I had the energy to open my eyes and face the judge.

“Miss Jessica Jordan.” The judge looked at me reproachfully over half-moon glasses, theatrically shuffling his papers.

The court was hushed.

“You have been found guilty on all counts. I have no hesitation in sentencing you to life imprisonment, with a minimum term of forty years.”

There was a perfectly uniform intake of breath from the gallery, as my supporters digested the magnitude of the punishment and turned questioning eyes on each other.

Before the judge could clear his throat to say, “Take her down.” I was gone. The image of the empty dock was the lead story on every news channel that evening.