'No secrets in prison, mate. Ginger tells the guy he shares a cell with, guy tells my mate Jonno in the gym, Jonno tells me. That's all there is to do in here, watch TV and talk. You come in thinking you're going to keep yourself to yourself but after a while you let your guard down. Have to, or you might as well be in solitary.'
'So, Charlie, Hamster and Ginger. Who else?'
'What are you angling for?' asked Lee.
'Just want to know who the competition is,' said Shepherd.
'It's not about competing, you just have to pay Digger.'
'I don't have the money to pay him so I'm going to have to be more creative.'
'Not sure that Digger appreciates creativity,' said Lee.
'We'll see,' said Shepherd. 'Who else?'
'There's a guy called Jurczak. He's Bosnian or something. Stabbed an immigration officer. Nasty bastard, always throwing his weight around. He's up on the threes. Oh, yeah, and Carpenter, he's on the threes as well. Drug-dealer. Supposed to have millions on the outside.' Lee frowned. 'That's five, innit?' He ran through the names in his mind and nodded. 'Yeah, Sledge on the ones is a cleaner, too. He's the one you usually find doing the showers. Big guy, bald as a coot, bulldog tattoo.'
Shepherd had seen him the previous evening, washing the floor after the hotplate had been taken back to the kitchen. 'Doesn't seem the sort of guy who'd have money to spare.'
'He hasn't, but would you want to try to take his mop off him? I don't think Digger does. You know why they call him Sledge?'
'I don't, but I bet you do.'
'Short for Sledgehammer. His weapon of choice. He was on the cleaning crew before Digger got sent here. Digger got the other cleaners to quit, but there's not much he could do to pressurise Sledge. Are you going to get your dinner?'
'I'm not hungry.'
'What did you ask for?'
'Cornish pasty.'
'Do me a favour and get it? If you don't want it, I'll save it for later.'
Shepherd headed for the door.
'Get us a bread roll, too, yeah?'
Shepherd stopped and turned to look at Lee. 'Anything else, Your Majesty?'
Lee put up his hands. 'No offence, Bob. Just a pity to see good food go to waste, that's all.'
Shepherd grinned. 'You should get out more, Jason.'
The next day, Shepherd still hadn't been given any work so he spent the morning locked in his cell. He was let out for dinner, then locked up again. Late in the afternoon, Craig Rathbone opened the door. 'You not been fixed up with a job yet, then?' he asked.
'It's in the pipeline,' said Shepherd. 'What jobs are there?'
'You'll probably be put in one of the workshops,' said Rathbone. 'Or maybe the laundry. I'll speak to Mr Stafford.'
The last thing Shepherd wanted was to go to one of the workshops. He had to get close to Carpenter, which meant a job on the cleaning crew. And that either meant talking to Digger or getting one of the existing cleaners to give up his job.
'You've got a legal visit,' said Rathbone.
'Yeah, my brief said he'd be back.'
Rathbone stood to the side to let Shepherd out of the cell, then the two men walked down the landing. 'What's your solicitor say?' asked Rathbone.
'Says I should try to get a deal, being caught red-handed and all. But I'm no grass.'
'Honour among thieves?'
'You know what happens to grasses inside.'
'So you'll go down for the full whack? Armed robbery, plus a cop getting shot? You could get life.'
'We'll see,' said Shepherd.
'Good luck,' said Rathbone, and it sounded as if he meant it.
He took Shepherd out of the spur and along the secure corridor to the administration block close to the entrance to the prison. Shepherd had already adopted the rhythm of walking under escort, stopping at each barred gate, standing to the side so that the officer could open it, walking through first, then waiting while the officer relocked it.
Hargrove was already in the interview room. Rathbone told him to use the bell when he'd finished, then closed the door and left them alone.
'How's it going?' asked Hargrove.
'I've only been here two days, and I've been banged up for most of that.'
'Have you seen Carpenter yet?'
'I'm working on it.'
'You're going to have to pull your finger out, Spider.'
Shepherd flushed and he glared at the superintendent. 'Have you any idea what it's like in here? It's a fucking high-security prison, not a holiday camp. I can't just wander along to Carpenter's cell and offer him a cup of tea.' He sprawled back in his chair, exasperated.
Hargrove was clearly concerned at his outburst. 'Are you okay?'
'What do you think?' said Shepherd, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
Rathbone appeared at the window with the bald officer who'd been there during Hargrove's previous visit. Hargrove smiled and nodded, as if he and Shepherd were having a pleasant chat. 'I think you're under a lot of pressure,' he said, 'and I appreciate how hard the task is that you've undertaken. But we're under pressure on the outside, too. One of the Home Office's experts has been attacked. Dr Gary Nelson. He was going to give evidence on the recordings Elliott and Roper made, proving that they hadn't been tampered with.'
'Is he okay?'
'They cut him. Threatened his wife. Threatened him. He's on sick leave, saying he's going to resign. Blames us for not protecting him.'
'He's got a point, don't you think?'
Hargrove sighed mournfully. 'We can't put every person involved on this case under twenty-four-hour guard, Spider. Nelson was just one of a dozen technical experts who've been lined up. There's probably fifty police, Customs, CPS and forensics people working on this case. Round-the-clock protection for them all would mean five hundred men; the Met just doesn't have the resources.'
'Have you told Roper?'
'About Nelson?' Hargrove shook his head. 'If he gets cold feet, the case will collapse. Ditto if anything should happen to Roper. You're our best hope, Spider.'
'I know, I know. I'm sorry.' Shepherd ran his hands through his hair. He felt dirty. He'd only had one shower since he'd arrived at Shelton and no matter how many times he brushed his teeth with the prison toothpaste his mouth never felt clean. 'I haven't been in role twenty-four seven before,' he said. 'I've always been able to go home - or at least somewhere where I can just be myself.'
'Do you want me to get a psychologist in?'
Undercover agents often talked through their problems with police psychologists, but bringing one into Shelton could be Shepherd's downfall. There was no way that a career bank robber would seek psychological help. 'I'll work through it.'
'Let me know if you change your mind,' said Hargrove. The two men sat in silence for a minute or two. 'How much contact have you had with the prison officers?' asked Hargrove eventually.
'I've had dealings with five so far. Tony Stafford runs the block. He's in the bubble most of the time so I don't see how Carpenter could be using him. Lloyd-Davies is on the spur but, like you said, she's a smart cookie and destined for higher things. Hamilton's got a chip on his shoulder and he'd be the one I'd try to turn. The guy who brought me over is Rathbone. Seems okay. And there's a nasty piece of work called Healey who isn't averse to breaking the rules.'
'Is he your main suspect?'
