‘I’m just hoping that he’s not going to attempt to’ — Goodman paused, clearly looking for the right word — ‘manipulate you.’
‘I’m not easily manipulated, Mr Goodman. Tell me, does Mr Garrett sound genuinely interested in cooperating?’
Goodman thought about this for a moment. ‘I think the altercation he was involved in scared him. It shocked all of us. Both men were very lucky not to have been more seriously injured.’ He paused. ‘But Mr Garrett worries me. He’s quiet, he’s controlled, and he’s well behaved and polite to the staff. In that sense, he’s been a model prisoner — at least up until this latest incident. But there’s also no sense that he’s remotely concerned with the gravity of the crimes he’s committed. I’m a great believer in the power of rehabilitation, Miss Boyd, something which I know isn’t a particularly fashionable view among a lot of people in this country. But I believe we could gain a great deal from the Scandinavian model of treating prisoners as individuals who’ve made poor life choices, rather than as amoral monsters who need to be locked up for as long as possible. However, I believe Mr Garrett might be an exception to that rule. I very much doubt that he
‘Thank you, sir, I will.’
‘We’ve prepared an interview room in the Central Section for your meeting. He should be there by now, so if you’ve got no further questions, I’ll have you escorted down there.’
‘I think you’ve answered everything for me,’ said Tina, getting to her feet.
‘I must admit,’ said the governor as they shook hands a second time, ‘I’m surprised that he asked to see
Tina swallowed her continuing irritation at the way she was being talked to. ‘It was my
‘Surely over seventy dead civilians can’t be judged to be a successful conclusion.’
‘It can when you have five hundred hostages and a building wired up to be blown to smithereens. And whatever you or Mr Garrett may think, I’m good at my job.’
Goodman raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘In my opinion, your methods leave a great deal to be desired, Miss Boyd, so I’d request that when in my prison you work according to my rules.’
Tina held his gaze for a long second, sorely tempted to kick him in the nuts, or at the very least come up with a rude rejoinder, but in the end she thought better of it. ‘Of course, sir.’
The guard who escorted Tina to the prison’s Central Section was the same one who’d taken her to the governor’s office. His name was Thomson, and he looked like he’d been doing the job for years.
‘Did the governor give you his talk on rehabilitation?’ he asked as they walked.
Tina gave a derisive grunt. ‘He said a few words on the subject.’
‘He’s big on rehabilitation,’ Thomson said. ‘He says it’s the whole purpose of the job — that there’s good in everyone, even if in some cases it’s very well hidden. But he spends most of the time in his office, and he doesn’t see what we see.’
‘And what do you see?’
‘I see hundreds of bad men. Every day of my life. Men who wouldn’t think twice about cutting your throat, or raping your daughter. Or even your son. And do you know what the worst part of it is, Miss Boyd?’
Tina looked at him. ‘What?’
‘The public think we run this place. They think the governor and the guards run every prison.’ He frowned. ‘But we don’t. We don’t run any of them. The prisoners do. Right now, the only way we keep order is by treating this lot with kid gloves, and cutting them slack. The minute they decide they don’t want to take orders from us any more, they won’t. It’s as simple as that.’
‘I can believe it.’
‘Maybe if you were running the shop rather than the governor, things would be a bit different.’ He let slip a small smile to let her know he was joking.
Tina laughed. ‘I’m not patient enough, and I can’t stand being nice to people who don’t deserve it.’
‘You wouldn’t last long here then. This place is a tinderbox, Miss Boyd. And when it goes up, there’ll be nothing any of us can do about it. I think about that every day I’m here.’
Beyond the corridor walls, Tina could hear the faint sound of cell doors clanking and the staccato shouts of prisoners. The air felt hot and artificial, with an unpleasant undercurrent of cleaning products, reminding her of a hospital. The guard’s words unnerved her, even though she’d heard the same thing from different sources plenty of times. It was always disconcerting to know that however hard you fought, the war against the bad guys was ultimately unwinnable.
‘The whole country’s a tinderbox, Officer Thomson,’ she said. ‘The riots in 2011 showed that. We’ve just got to make sure we do our bit and keep blowing out the matches.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘This attack on Garrett by Eric Hughes. Do you think it was spontaneous, or planned?’
‘It’s difficult to tell. Hughes is a nasty piece of work — they both are — but there was no history of conflict between the two of them. The men in here are some of the most dangerous in the country, and they’re living in unnatural conditions, so their behaviour can get unpredictable.’
‘What about the camera? I heard it was tampered with.’
‘It was broken, but we’re not sure it was deliberate.’
‘Do you know how long it was broken for?’
Thomson shrugged. ‘Things like that are meant to be fixed straight away for health and safety reasons, but we’re like everyone else. Short of money and short of staff. So it could have been a while.’
‘Would the prisoners have known the camera was out of order? I mean, it would explain why Hughes attacked Garrett where he did.’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ he answered, but Tina’s antennae picked up something in his voice that made her think he might be lying. She filed it away for future reference.
They stopped at a set of heavy double doors and Thomson used a card to swipe them through. He nodded at a guard on the other side, who unlocked another set of doors, and then they were into the maximum-security section of the prison. It was far quieter in here, and the smell of cleaning fluids stronger, making Tina feel slightly nauseous.
Thomson turned to her as they walked down a windowless tunnel illuminated with garish strip lighting. ‘Be careful of our Mr Garrett. He might be polite and quiet, but I wouldn’t trust him an inch.’
‘Don’t worry, Officer Thomson. I can look after myself.’
‘So I’ve heard, Miss Boyd. So I’ve heard.’
They stopped outside a door where two more prison officers stood guard.
‘He’ll be handcuffed for the duration of your interview, and there’s a panic button in case he tries anything. Press it and we’ll intervene immediately.’
Tina smiled. ‘Thanks, but I’m sure he won’t do anything stupid. He knows there’s no way out of here.’
Officer Thomson nodded. ‘Exactly,’ he said, opening the reinforced door. ‘Right now, he’s got nothing to lose.’
Thirteen
10.58
William Garrett, the man the media knew as Fox, was possibly the most dangerous prisoner in the UK out of a population of close to a hundred thousand. Although it was another three months before his trial was due to start, and the reporting of his alleged crimes had been kept to a minimum so as not to prejudice any future proceedings, the prosecution case against him was as close to watertight as you were ever going to get. Positively identified by witnesses, and caught at the scene of the crime with traces of blood and gunshot residue on his person, as well as
