He told Irina what he was thinking, then said, “In the end, it probably doesn’t even matter. What are the chances that this woman will actually show up?”
Not much, they had agreed. Not much at all.
No one was that crazy.
It was a good thing neither Teterya nor Irina were gamblers.
When his alarm sounded at 11:30 a.m., Teterya was already staring at the ceiling, his stomach a bundle of nerves.
Sucking in a breath, he slapped the clock and silenced the buzzer.
As he crawled out from beneath the blankets, he realized his hands were shaking. Soon the spasms extended to his arms, then shoulders, and even his torso. He was shaking so hard it was as if he were freezing, yet his apartment was already warm with the growing day. He stumbled into the bathroom and managed to turn on the shower, and as soon as he was under the stream of water, his muscles began to relax.
By the time his phone rang at 12:20 p.m., he was sitting on his couch, dressed, his hands steady.
He answered the call. “Yes?”
“Dr. Teterya, it’s Irina.” They had managed to keep their relationship a secret from the prison staff, worried it might damage their careers if anyone found out. To that end, every conversation they had outside their private moments was cordial and professional.
“Hello, Irina. What can I do for you?”
“I’m sorry if I woke you, but Dr. Timko has taken ill and needs to go home. He would like you to fill in for him the rest of the day.”
“Ill? What’s wrong?”
“Stomach. Probably the flu.”
“All right. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
Teterya forced himself to wait five more minutes before heading out, then drove through town and out into the country. He was slowing to turn down the road to the prison when he remembered the message drop. It was his turn to check, and if he didn’t do it now, Irina would be forced to handle it when she got off work.
He sped back up and continued down the highway. It would delay his arrival at the prison for another ten minutes, but that probably wasn’t a bad thing.
To his surprise, there was a message behind the box. It was sealed in an envelope marked with the letter P. For Powell, he presumed. The sealed envelope also meant it was for the prisoner’s eyes only — and that was fine by him. The less he and Irina knew at this point, the better.
He stuffed the envelope in his pocket and resumed his journey to the prison.
As was protocol, his first stop was the assistant administrator’s office, where he would check in and learn of anything he might need to know.
He and the assistant administrator, Petro Doroshenko, had developed a friendly relationship that had on more than one occasion extended to drinks away from work.
“I heard Timko is sick,” Petro said. “So you’ve got a long shift in front of you.”
“Not the first time. Anything happen while I was gone?”
“All quiet.”
“Good,” Teterya said, “then I should probably get to the infirmary.” He turned for the door, but then stopped as if he’d just remembered something. “Petro, yesterday evening I was informed that several prisoners had been taken to isolation, but no one told me why. Is there something I need to know? Any medical issues to be aware of?”
“No,” Petro told him. “None that I know of.” He hesitated as if there was something more, but he was unsure whether to say it.
“What?” Teterya asked.
A pause, then, “A rumor, really. I don’t know anything for sure.”
Teterya kept quiet, waiting for him to go on.
“There might be a threat on the life of one of the prisoners who was moved.”
One of the doctor’s eyebrows rose a millimeter. “What’s so different about that? This is a prison. Inmates are threatened all the time.”
“No, no. Apparently this news came from outside. Someone in the prison has been hired to kill her.”
“An assassin?”
Petro kept his mouth shut, but the look on his face said yes.
“But why? Who is she?”
“A’isha Najem. At least that’s the name she was brought here under. But…” He shrugged his shoulder.
“A false name? Is anyone checking to see who she really is?”
“The warden is handling the investigation personally.” The message was clear. Petro had been cut out of whatever was really going on. “Most of this is just rumor, of course. Best if you don’t share them.”
“Share what?” Teterya said, acting innocent, but feeling anything but as he turned for the door and left.
Alex sat quietly for over forty minutes before she heard a new, male voice talking to one of the nurses. When the curtain surrounding her table moved to the side again, she was surprised to see Dr. Teterya.
“My apologies for wait,” he said, his face tense. “The nurse call me because Dr. Timko not feel well, so has gone home.” He sat on the stool Dr. Timko had been using. “You are here for check of arm, correct?”
“That’s right.”
“Please, may I see?”
Alex extended her arm.
Dr. Teterya made a show of giving it a thorough examination. When he was finished, he frowned and shook his head.
“This, I do not like,” he said, pointing at a spot along the wound that looked no different than anywhere else. “Infection, I think. Very dangerous.” He turned toward the closed curtain. “Irina!”
A few seconds later, the nurse was there. Teterya spoke rapidly to her in Ukrainian. She nodded and left quickly.
“You must stay here for watch,” he told Alex. “Maybe go back to cell tonight, but give antibiotics first, see what happen. Okay?”
“Is it serious?” she said, acting worried.
“We treat now. Will be fine. Don’t worry.”
He stood up and disappeared for a moment. When he returned, he had a roll of gauze that he wrapped loosely around her arm, covering up her wound.
“Is painful, yes?” As he said this, he pantomimed cradling one arm in the other.
Alex got the message and mimicked him.
“It hurts like hell,” she said. “What do you think?”
“Because infected. Please, stay here moment. Nurse Irina fix room where you can rest.”
He left again.
So this was how they’d been planning to keep her here. She’d been wondering about that. She wondered also what they had given Dr. Timko to make him so sick. Whatever it was, she was pretty sure he wouldn’t be enjoying life for a while.
Suddenly, the curtain was pulled all the way open.
“Come,” Irina said.
She led Alex through a door at the back of the infirmary, into a large room with cluttered supply shelves along one wall, and three metal doors across the back. Each had a slot window in the upper half that could be closed off with a locking flap.
Irina took Alex to the open door on the left. The room inside was just large enough for a bed, a toilet, and the space needed to get from one to the other. A cell, in other words, for patients required to stay in the infirmary for treatment.
Dr. Teterya was waiting for her next to the bed. “Why you here?”
The sharpness of his tone took Alex by surprise.
“What do you mean?” Alex asked. “We talked about this last night. This is how you’re going to—”
He moved around her so that he was between her and the door. “No. I mean Slavne Prison. Why?”
“To take the other prisoner out. You know that.”
“I think you maybe come to kill her.”
She stared at him for a moment. “What? Why would I kill her? I’m supposed to get her out.”
“I just find out she and friends are in isolation because assassin come here to prison — come to kill her. Is you, isn’t it?”