Bonnie said, “Thank you Miss Fisher, and I hate to tell you this, but you are no longer my best friend.”
“Oh dear,” said Miss Fisher, who was reading Anne of Green Gables again, and was reluctantly interrupted. She was right at the exciting part where Anne was going to save Minnie May’s life.
It was that quiet —though never really quiet— time between dinner and lights out. A number of girls, as inmates were called, had left recently, either released or transferred to other institutions, so there was a general atmosphere of luxurious space combined with a niggling fear of what was to come. The “girls”, except for the disruptors, who were entertaining distractions, liked their routine, serving their time in peace, and getting the fuck out.
Miss Fisher wasn’t the only one serving serious time. There were other murderers, Bonnie included, though no other serial killers. Most had hope of release and living with family again. Miss Fisher had no such hope, despite the recent efforts of her lawyer.
“I found someone else,” said Bonnie.
“That’s just wonderful, dear,” said Miss Fisher. “As your ex-best friend, I am extremely happy for you.”
“He is not perfect,” said Bonnie.
“Who is?” said Miss Fisher. She sighed inwardly, and set her book aside. She sat up straight and engaged Bonnie with her eyes. Perhaps this wouldn’t take too long.
“I didn’t tell you about him,” said Bonnie, “because I know you don’t like men.”
“Yes, I can see where you might think that,” said Miss Fisher.
“You didn’t notice my engagement ring,” said Bonnie. “I’ve been wearing it for a week.”
“I’m sorry, Bonnie, I’ve been distracted,” said Miss Fisher. She thought longingly of Marilla and Matthew Cuthbert.
Bonnie held out her left hand. “It’s white gold, with a diamond chip.”
“Lovely,” said Miss Fisher, whose aging eyes could not really make out the tiny stone in the ring. “But who is he? Why would he become engaged to someone in prison?”
“I suppose we just fell in love,” said Bonnie. “After corresponding via Cellmates-dot-com, you know, where people write to inmates.”
“Uh huh,” said Miss Fisher, though she had never heard of it.
“We spoke on the phone, and he’s visited twice.”
“And he knows you poisoned your boyfriend?” asked Miss Fisher.
“No secrets,” said Bonnie. “You taught me that.” Bonnie gazed at her white gold and diamond chip ring. She rubbed it against the sleeve of her tunic, as if to polish it. “He is not exactly handsome, but very clean. He says I make him feel important. He tells his friends about me. They think he is crazy. Will we have conjugal rights, Miss Fisher, do you know? Gregory has asked.”
“Oh, I should think so,” said Miss Fisher. “Now Bonnie, you won’t go giving your heart away again, and be disappointed, and want to slowly murder Gregory as you did with Norman?”
“Oh no, Miss Fisher. I know killing is not the best solution,” said Bonnie.
Not the best solution, thought Miss Fisher. But often a good one.