Chapter 29 Emily
EMILY
Around seven-thirty, Emily and June found Eliza in the noisy recreation room, where she was playing cribbage with another inmate.
Eliza looked up from her game to see Emily and June standing over her.
She made a face so irritable that Emily nearly laughed.
As much as Eliza’s lot in life had forced her to grow up early and fast, sometimes her petulance betrayed her immaturity.
Though Emily knew it would infuriate her to know that.
“Need to talk to you for a minute, kid,” June said in a tone that left little room for argument.
Eliza rolled her eyes, but set down her cards without sparing a glance at her opponent and stood, leading them out of the room.
Emily followed June, in awe of her ability to convey her authority like that.
It was a brand of confidence Emily could only aspire to, and she wondered whether it was innate or learned; if she herself could ever move through the world the way June and—in an undeniably more collegial way—Doris Anderson did.
They both seemed cut from a cloth that was usually reserved for the creation of men, not women.
A fabric woven from entitlement and inborn self-assurance on a great loom constructed eons ago, exclusively for Adam’s sons.
The sounds of harsh, competitive laughter and rattling Yahtzee dice faded as they entered the cool hallway.
The three women turned a corner at the end of the hall, and Eliza pulled up short beside a row of empty cells, entering one that must be hers.
Emily glanced around, but they were mostly alone.
Nearly everyone would be in the rec room or waiting in the queue for their revolting bath at this hour.
“So this one knows, too?” Eliza directed at Emily the moment they were over the threshold. She flicked her chin at June.
“She does,” Emily said.
“Well, yer not gonna strong-arm me,” Eliza said to June. “I already told Emily no. It inn’t worth gettin’ caught. I’m not spendin’ a month in the hole when there’s nothin’ in it fer me ’sides endin’ back up in me da’s house, or on the bleedin’ street.”
Emily was growing uncomfortable. She needed Eliza’s help, yes, but didn’t want to force her, because that would likely backfire anyway. Eliza had to be willing.
“I know that,” June told her, and her tone was softer now.
“Because I’ve been there, kid. My mama was a whore.
I was on the street as long as I can remember.
She got me to school during the day sometimes until I was eight, then…
” Emily glanced at June, who was blinking rapidly.
“She ended up in a bad brothel, and the pimp there took advantage of me.” She paused, and Emily’s stomach twisted.
“I know a girl like you needs protection,” she told Eliza.
“Grown women do, too. That’s why I run my place the way I do.
’Cause whoring is all some women can do to feed themselves in this man’s world, and they deserve not to die for doing what they need to do. ”
Eliza stared at June, and Emily saw a glint of a tear forming in the corner of her eye.
“If you do this for us,” June continued, “I’ll give you a job. You don’t have to go back home, and you don’t have to be on the street, either.”
“I don’t wanna be a—”
“As a maid,” June clarified. “You’re a thorough cleaner, Emily says. You come clean my place, do some cooking and dishes and the like, you can have an attic room to yourself. It’s small, but it’ll be your own.”
Emily watched June with fascination. She did seem to understand Eliza, how to woo her.
Eliza’s mouth was tight, eyes still locked on the madam. “I don’t want any men comin’ at me,” she said firmly.
June nodded. “They won’t touch you. I’ll make sure they know you’re off-limits. I promise. Those men pay good money for my girls; they know not to cross Mama, or they’ll never be let in my place again, and they’ll have to take their chances with the dirty street whores. You’ll be safe.”
Eliza shifted her feet, exhaled. “But I could get some cleaning job someplace else, there’s lotsa—”
“Who’s gonna hire a little thief, a jailbird, to clean their nice big house?
” June challenged. “Nobody. Sorry, kid. But you come work for me and I’ll give you a chance.
Don’t steal from me, my girls, or clients, and I’ll be true to my word.
I’ll give you a place where you’ve got some protection until you’re grown, then, well…
what you do then is up to you. But I know at your age, I would have traded my left arm for the deal I’m offering you now. ”
Eliza’s gaze darted between Emily and June. They waited.
“How big’s this attic? It have a window?” Eliza demanded.
June let out a snort. “Big enough for a bed and dresser and a bit of room to move. And yes, there’s a window. And a lock on the door.”
“You got meat in yer icebox?”
“Yes.”
“Rats?”
“Only in the alleyway behind.”
Eliza scrutinized June, creases of suspicion streaking her forehead. “All right. I’ll do it,” she said finally, looking at Emily. “When?”
Emily’s heart leapt. “As soon as possible.”
“Show us what you got, then, kid,” June said, her large arms akimbo. Emily might have blanched under the intensity of June’s stare, but Eliza seemed to rise to it, like a sunflower trying to prove how high it could stretch its stem.
“Well, what is it exactly that ye need?” she asked, looking skeptical.
Emily filled her in on the details, that they needed to find proof of the drug trial in Stone’s personal files.
“All right,” Eliza said. She studied the floor for a moment as the distant sounds of the recreation room’s chatter floated down the hall. They still had a little time before lights out.
“There’s really only a coupla ways to do this,” Eliza said thoughtfully. Emily could see the gears turning in that strawberry-blond head of hers. “The first way would be to try to bribe or blackmail one of the infirmary matrons to nick it fer us.”
Emily looked at June, who was already shaking her head. “That opens us up to risk even more,” Emily said. “Enough people already know who I am and why I’m here. I don’t fancy having to pay off a matron to keep quiet about it.”
“We came to you because theft is the most straightforward method,” June said.
“I know!” Eliza scowled, defensive. “I was gettin’ to that. I do think stealing is the way to go.”
“How will you do it?” June pressed.
A thought suddenly occurred to Emily and her heart sank. “Eliza,” she said, “are you even good at stealing things? You told me you try to get caught to get sent back here. Do you even—”
“Yeah! ’Cept tryin’ to get caught means I know how to trip those wires! If I know how to trip ’em, I know what they are and how to avoid ’em, too! Jeez, I ain’t a total fool.”
Emily raised her hands in surrender as June’s lip twitched. “Sorry,” Emily muttered. “Go ahead.”
Eliza appeared even more determined after Emily’s doubtful inquiry.
“It’s gotta be at a time when Stone ain’t in the office,” she said.
“Not worth the risk tryna get ’er outta there.
So that’s a night after she’s left, or a weekend.
” She looked at Emily, then June, who both nodded in agreement.
“We’d either need the keys, or I can pick the lock on ’er office.
But we’d need to draw the night matron away.
Some sorta distraction or disturbance or some such. ”
Emily thought for a moment. “Have either of you ever spent the night in the infirmary? Do you know whether the night matron stays awake or sleeps?”
“No, I haven’t,” June said.
“Me either,” Eliza agreed.
“Well, if she sleeps,” Emily mused, “maybe we could get admitted to the infirmary overnight, then steal the documents quietly?”
“And what if she doesn’t sleep?” June posed.
“Drug ’er?” Eliza suggested.
Emily frowned. “I don’t like the idea of having to assault someone in this process.”
“I think a diversion’s the way to go,” June said. She inhaled, her large bosom rising. “I can take care of that. Something in the recreation room, or downstairs. A fight of some kind.”
“Big enough to draw all the matrons?” Emily asked.
“There are fewer of them after supper, you know that,” June said.
Emily was silent. In truth, she hadn’t noticed that, but hoped June was right.
She’d been in and out of the Mercer repeatedly, after all.
Few women knew the place so well. “If there’s enough of a fuss, they’ll set off the alarm, and then they all come as a matter of policy. ”
“How do you know that?”
“ ’Cause there’s been riots before,” Eliza said.
“Really? When?” This was the first time Emily had heard of it.
“Last summer there was one,” June told her. “Got so goddamn hot in here we could hardly breathe. Had a big riot in the dining hall til they called the cops so we could show them how hot it was, get ’em to do something about it.”
“And did they?”
Eliza scoffed, and June glared at Emily. “What do you think, reporter lady?”
Emily’s anger burned. “The police came in here, felt the heat, saw the conditions, and did nothing?”
“You got it.”
And Emily finally understood; despite her willingness to help bring down Stone, this was why June doubted Emily’s ability to effect any real change. If the police had seen this with their own eyes, and still hadn’t done anything about it…what chance did some article in a women’s magazine have?
“You didn’t tell me that,” Emily said, trying not to sound accusatory.
“Why would I?” June snarled. “But Stone wasn’t testing drugs on us a year ago, so things have changed. If the cops don’t give a shit, we gotta make noise some other way, and right now, you’re the only noisemaker we’ve got. God help us.”
Eliza was watching them with a keen eye. “Back to the plan, then,” she said.
Emily swallowed hard, shoving away the doubt that had crept into her vision.
“She have drawers or somethin’ where this stuff’s gonna be?”
“Yes,” June said. “There’s a filing cabinet beside her desk. Patient files and other papers, too, I’m sure.”
“How you know that?” Eliza frowned.
“ ’Cause I’ve been in there,” June answered, one eyebrow raised as though daring Eliza to challenge her again. She didn’t.
“How much time do you need to pick two locks?” Emily asked. “And what supplies?”
“Not long,” Eliza said, “unless it’s somethin’ fancy I ain’t never seen. And just a paper clip or somethin’.” Emily nodded. Those were easily sourced, even at the prison.
“So are we doing this in the evening, or overnight?” June asked. “ ’Cause I think evening, when the girls are all out of their cells. Creates more chaos in the diversion.”
Emily thought for a moment, but Eliza leapt in.
“Yeah. You get all the matrons away to the rec room or dining hall or somewhere, and Emily and I can wait down the hall from the infirmary. When the night matron comes out, we go in. Doubt she’ll lock the door if she’s leavin’ in a hurry.
If she does, I can get in. It’s not even a deadbolt, that one. Easy.”
Emily felt a smile forming despite herself. “Could you get yourself out of your own cell, Eliza?” she asked.
Eliza straightened. “ ’Course I can! But I told ya, I don’t want outta here, do I? Nice to know I could get out if I wanted to, though.”
June laughed this time, a low rumble of a thing. “You’re starting to grow on me, kid.”
Emily saw the colour rise in Eliza’s cheeks. Something told her Eliza would be happy at June’s, and that brought her a surprising sense of comfort.
“Okay.” Emily considered the stages of the plan in formation, her mind darting ahead, looking for tripwires.
“What if there are girls in the infirmary overnight?” She directed the question at Eliza, their little mastermind.
“If we get in when the matron runs out, what do we do about anyone else in there? That’s a possibility we can’t control. ”
Eliza ran her tongue over her teeth and shrugged. “Sometimes there’s people around ya don’t expect. Like you say, can’t control it all, even with a good plan.”
“So what do we do in that case?” Emily asked.
Eliza cocked her head to the side and surveyed Emily with a frown. “You say you got yerself sent to prison so’s you could get a story, eh? What was yer plan?”
Emily was speechless, taken aback. Eliza waited, still frowning. June’s eyes were on her, too.
“I suppose…” She tapped her thigh with a nervous finger. “I knew I needed to get in here. I didn’t think much beyond that.”
“Why not?”
Emily swallowed. “I didn’t know what to expect. I figured I’d just have to take things as they came.”
“Right,” Eliza said, looking at Emily as though she were simple. “Half a succeedin’ in somethin’ is just flat believin’ ye can do’t. We need to get this shit outta Stone’s office, so we will.”
A wry smile crept across Emily’s face as Nellie Bly’s refrain echoed in her head once more.
I said I could, and I would.