She exits the station now and walks the rest of the way.Inside the archives building, she identifies herself to the receptionist, whose blond eyebrows lift with intrigue.She leads Rachel back into an office area and asks her to wait.
Rachel’s never been here before, and isn’t entirely sure what to expect, but she holds her files in her resting hand, the manila folder pressed against her firearm.She takes a deep breath of the air that smells like carpet cleaner and freshly photocopied paper, feeling eager.If these archives can produce the prisoner register for the Mercer from the 1950s and ’60s, that should be enough to take back to headquarters and start whittling down the list of possible identities for her Jane Doe.She needs to know who died there during that window.
Another woman arrives within minutes, sweeping over the threshold of her small office in a cloud of purposefulness and Elizabeth Arden Red Door.
“Good afternoon, Detective…?”
“Mackenzie.Rachel Mackenzie.”Rachel extends a hand, which the woman shakes firmly.
“I’m Lydia Jacek, Director of Archives.I understand you’re looking for some prisoner records.”
“Yes,” Rachel says.“It’s part of an investigation into a Jane Doe found up in Huron County.”She recaps the Mercer prison info.“It’s defunct, but I wondered if any of the records might still be extant.”
The director is already nodding fervently.“Absolutely.I’ll do what I can.”
Rachel withdraws from her folder the sheet from Cartwright-Cambridge Co.with the Mercer Women’s Prison’s information.She passes it into Lydia’s hands, the nails trimmed short but impeccably well-manicured.It bodes well—she values attention to detail.
“There’s the spelling, and the address, if that helps,” Rachel says.“It was in Liberty Village.”
Lydia nods again.“Excellent.I’ll see what we can do.Normally we would need some time to pull this information, a day or two.”She glances at the clock on the wall.“But I can get two staff on it right now, and we’ll do our best.It may take a while, though, I’m sorry.”
“I’ll wait,” Rachel says with a smile, thinking fondly of saying the same thing to Mitch Jackass Cambridge under very different circumstances a little over an hour ago.“Thank you, Ms.Jacek.”
“Lydia, please.”
“Lydia.”Rachel smiles.“I don’t mind waiting.There’s a lot of that in my line of work.Just show me where I can find the coffee, and I’ll be fine.”
“Ha!”Lydia smiles indulgently and gestures for Rachel to follow.
She waits back in Lydia’s office after securing some fresh coffee in a ceramic mug with a faded image of a blue cat sitting atop a stack of multicoloured books.Rachel’s always a bit fascinated by the mugs she gets offered in her day-to-day while waiting for information.She wonders what the mugs say about the people.Snarky quips.Best Grandpa Ever.Shakespeare quotes.Snoopy and Woodstock.Such-and-Such University crests.But it’s the nondescript ones without any identifying characteristics that always make her the most suspicious, as though the person supplying the coffee is self-conscious, reluctant to give her anything to analyze.She finishes the drink and then sneaks a couple of the Werther’s candies from the dish on Lydia’s desk.
Nearly two hours later, she’s memorized the details of the director’s degrees on the wall and established theories for all four of the stains on the carpet when Lydia finally reappears.
“We’ve got them, Detective.I’m sorry it took so long.Back this way, please.”
“Don’t apologize, I appreciate your help on such short notice.”Rachel follows her through a different part of the office where study rooms are situated along one wall.Lydia approaches one labelled “3” and holds open the door.Rachel enters to find a series of documents spread out on a large conference-style table, a set of white gloves resting beside them.
“If I could ask you to put on the gloves, please.It’s protocol.”
Rachel nods.“Not a problem,” she says, pulling them on and noting how strange and luxurious the cotton feels on her fingers compared to the rubbery blue ones she’s used to.It’s like stepping out of high heels and into slippers.
“Here,” Lydia says, pointing, “we’ve got the register from the prison for the years 1950 through 1960, then 1960 to 1962.They end there, so let’s hope that’s the year it closed.I’ve also pulled some of the other records we had in relation: the prisoner punishment register—”
“Oof.”Rachel grimaces.
“Yes, I know.I’ve also got here the inmate medical records, and various others referencing the Mercer Women’s Prison.I wasn’t sure what else might be helpful.”
“This is excellent, thank you.”
“Well,” Lydia says, exhaling a quick breath of a laugh.“I’m glad we could get it in time.If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.We technically close at five to the public, but I’ll stay through until you’re done, detective.”
“And is there any way to get copies of these documents?”Rachel asks.
“Most of them should be okay to copy.Just let me know.”
“Thank you so much.”
Lydia closes the door with a polite nod.Rachel takes a focusing breath and leans over the table.
