'Suppose so.'
'Why isn't he here, then?'
Weston moved over to Shepherd and put his head close. 'Gerry Carpenter does what he wants,' he said, out of the side of his mouth.
'He bought his job, right? Same as you and me.'
'Him and Digger have got an arrangement.'
'Like what?'
'Hear no, see no, mate,' said Weston, tapping the side of his nose.
'You've lost me, Charlie. Does he work with us or not?'
'Sometimes he cleans up on the threes. Sometimes he's down here. He chooses where he works. None of my business. I just do as I'm told. If I were you, I'd do the same.'
Shepherd and Weston cleaned the floor of the ones, then went up and did the twos. There was no sign of the other cleaners. At eleven forty-five they heard the buzz of returning prisoners and by midday the ground floor was packed again. The floor that Shepherd and Weston had cleaned was soon scuffed and dirty.
Shepherd picked up his dinner - a tired lamb chop, mashed potatoes and carrots, with an orange - and ate it in his cell. Lee came in with his food.
The cell doors were locked and the roll-call was taken, then the doors were unlocked again.
Shepherd and Lee went down the landing to the bubble. Craig Rathbone shouted for all those expecting a visit to go over to him and checked names against a list on his clipboard. One prisoner was missing. Carpenter. He looked up at the stairs. Carpenter was walking down slowly. He was wearing a white linen shirt and pressed chinos, and his hair was neatly combed. Bill Barnes was there and nodded at Carpenter. Carpenter nodded back, but said nothing as he joined the group.
Rathbone unlocked the barred door leading out of the spur and held it open. The prisoners filed through. There were more prisoners in the secure corridor, escorted by officers, men from the other two spurs on the block.
Shepherd fell into step beside Carpenter. 'How's it going?' he asked.
'Yeah, fine,' said Carpenter.
'My first visit, this. The wife.'
'Good luck.'
'I think it's tougher for her than it is for me.'
'That's the punishment,' said Carpenter. 'It's not about bars on the windows and crap food, it's about keeping us away from our families.'
'Yeah, but we're not even guilty. That's what's so shit unfair.'
Rathbone drew level with Shepherd. 'You got your compassionate visit,' he said. 'You'll be in a private room.'
'Thanks, Mr Rathbone.'
'Good luck,' he said, and walked ahead of the group.
'Compassionate visit?' said Carpenter.
'Yeah. The missus is threatening to divorce me,' said Shepherd. 'I didn't want her mouthing off in front of everyone.'
'You having problems?'
Shepherd looked at him. He didn't want to tell Carpenter anything about Sue. Even though she was coming in as Angie Macdonald, it was still a risk. But Carpenter was interested, and he was also a husband and father so it might be a way of getting closer. 'You know what wives are like,' he said.
Carpenter frowned. 'How did you know I was married?'
'That's what visits are for, right? For the wives? Plus you're wearing a wedding ring. Elementary, dear Watson.'
Carpenter pulled a face. 'Mothers come sometimes,' he said.
'My mother's written me off.'
'Can't understand where she went wrong?'
'You know what I gave her for Christmas last year?' said Shepherd. 'Five grand in readies. Told her to buy herself something nice. My dad told me she gave the money to the RSPCA. Go figure.'
They turned right. More prisoners joined the crowd. Several new arrivals began to chat to prisoners from other blocks. Shepherd figured it was one of the few occasions when prisoners from different blocks could mix.
'How's your wife taking you being inside?' asked Shepherd. He asked the question lightly, knowing that he was crossing a line. It was a personal question and the way that Carpenter reacted would determine which way the investigation went from that moment on.
'She's not happy,' said Carpenter, 'but she blames the filth, not me.'
Shepherd's heart pounded. It was an offhand remark, but it was a confidence shared. A sign that a bridge was being built. 'My wife says it's my own stupid fault. She wants the house, the car, everything. And my kid,' he said.
'Get yourself a good lawyer,' said Carpenter. 'You've got to fight for what's yours.'
'Your wife's not giving you grief ?'
Carpenter smiled. 'She knows I won't be here long.'
'You're not tunnelling, are you? I think that's the only way I'll be getting out.'
Carpenter chuckled. 'You need a better plan than that.'
'Is that what you've got? A plan?'
'I'm not going to let them send me down for fifteen years, that's for sure.'
'Bastard judges.'
Carpenter shook his head. 'Don't blame the judges. All they're doing is following the rules. It's like blaming the referee because your team lost. The way I look at it, it's your own fault for getting caught. And the cops' fault for catching you.'
'Yeah, that's the truth,' said Shepherd. 'If I ever found out who grassed me up, I'll kill them.'
Carpenter flashed him a sidelong look. 'You were grassed?'
'Must have been,' said Shepherd. 'Everything was sweetness and light and then suddenly the cops are everywhere. Armed cops, too, so they knew we were tooled up.'
'Any idea who set you up?'
'I was the new guy on the team. Could have been anybody. I'll find out, though. If it takes me for ever, I'll have the bastard.'
'Won't get you out of here any faster.'
'So what's your plan, then?'
Carpenter tapped the side of his nose. 'Need to know,' he said.
'And I don't,' Shepherd said. 'Right.'
The prisoners were escorted into a waiting area. There was a door at the far end where two male officers searched them, then handed each a yellow sash and ushered them through the door. Shepherd and Carpenter joined the queue.
The search was far more thorough than it was for going into the exercise yard. Every inch of Shepherd's front, back and sides was patted down, and he had to open his mouth and stick out his tongue, then flick his ears forward to show he had nothing concealed there. The officer made Shepherd run his hands through his hair, then handed him a bright yellow sash.
'Going cycling, are we?' Shepherd asked, and grinned over his shoulder at Carpenter. 'See this, Gerry? I'm off for a bike ride with the wife.'
The unsmiling prison officer nodded at Shepherd to go in. The visiting room was huge, the size of a tennis court. There was a balcony above the door from where an officer with a bored expression looked down on the rows of chairs and tables. There were already more than a hundred visitors, some sitting, some standing, waiting for their loved ones. Most were women and almost half had children with them. The tables were lined up in five rows, A to E, and each had four plastic chairs round it. The chairs could be moved but the tables were screwed to the floor.
A young red-headed woman, with a small baby strapped to her chest, was jumping up and down and waving.
