The voice of the man wearing the camera had been obscured in the edit but it was definitely a man. He spoke infrequently, only when necessary, and Ferreira had wondered while she watched if that was because he had nothing left to say or if he wanted to minimise his chances of being identified when it went public.
‘It was Ainsworth, wasn’t it?’ she said. ‘Someone smuggled a camera in to get that footage and handed it over to Garrick. Who else could it have been?’
‘She claims they only met last year and this must have been filmed a few years ago,’ Zigic reminded her. ‘There was an anonymous whistle-blower, remember. That’s who provided the footage for the Channel 4 news exposé, that’s who gave testimonies about what they’d witnessed. It’s highly likely whoever they were, they were in contact with Ruby Garrick because her group are outside the gate every day, and she’s the one pushing local politicians and press to do something. She’d be the first port of call for any member of staff wanting to get the truth out.’
‘I still think it could have been Ainsworth,’ she said firmly.
‘I doubt he’d have kept his job after exposing the place to that level of embarrassment.’
‘He was working there when it was filmed,’ she said, pressing because she could feel his desperation to let it go, and she was worried that he’d rather keep the focus away from Long Fleet. She understood the pressure he would be under from Riggott and above, but that only made it more important that she kept up the pressure from below. ‘Look, we know he was close to Ruby Garrick. Doesn’t that prick your instincts even a little bit?’
‘Mel, this is such a delicate investigation we can’t go off half-cocked wherever our instincts lead us.’ He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, chewing on his bottom lip. ‘And think about it, okay, what doesn’t that footage show?’
‘It doesn’t show Josh Ainsworth.’
‘It doesn’t show any of the medical facilities,’ Zigic said. ‘It doesn’t show any kind of health-based interaction with any women. Whoever was wearing that camera was wandering around the halls, they were on night shifts following guards on surprise inspections. Does that sound like part of a doctor’s work schedule?’
Grudgingly she admitted that it didn’t. ‘Unless he went out of his way to be in those places to get the footage he needed.’
‘You’re grasping at straws now,’ he said, as they drew up to the main gate. ‘The most logical explanation is that a guard filmed it and Ainsworth’s connection to Ruby Garrick is incidental.’
‘Because coincidences are suspect. So it’s “incidental”.’ She eyed the security guard coming out of the hut towards them. ‘Tell you something, I bet his former co-workers would have known if it was Josh exposing them.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They were directed to the Visitors Centre at the front of the complex where a middle-aged woman in a navy suit was waiting for them. She checked their IDs again before she would take them inside.
‘Welcome to Long Fleet,’ she said, shaking their hands. ‘I’m Catherine Field, the liaison officer. You should direct any enquiries through me in future.’ She smiled as if it was a helpful suggestion, but Zigic could hear the machinery churning behind it. ‘Please, follow me.’
It was a large room, set up like the reception area of any medium-sized office or university. Cafe tables and chairs, stools at a curved counter, several vending machines along one wall and bright abstract prints on another. Another woman sat at the counter, bent over some paperwork, ID clipped to her jacket. She looked like a solicitor, Zigic thought. He couldn’t imagine many other people getting access.
‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting for a moment,’ Field said, directing them to a table before going over to the solicitor. ‘I’ll take you through now, Ms Hussein.’
‘Quicker than usual,’ the woman said, eyeing Zigic and Ferreira and smiling faintly as if suddenly understanding. ‘Are you police?’
Zigic nodded.
‘We should go through now,’ Field said.
The woman took a business card from her pocket, handed it to Zigic. ‘In case you need to know anything they’re not prepared to tell you.’
Field’s face showed the briefest flicker of annoyance.
‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting,’ she told them again and this time the solicitor went with her through a set of airlocked double doors and away.
Ferreira’s eyebrows went up. ‘So much for introducing a new regime of greater transparency.’
‘Let’s play nice, hey, Mel?’
‘I’m just saying.’ She made a circuit of the room while he sat and waited, looking through the heavily reinforced glass doors to the corridor beyond, thinking of the footage he’d watched this morning unfolding between those walls. ‘Do you think they know yet?’
‘Almost definitely,’ Zigic said. ‘If there’s other staff living in the village, word will have got around.’
‘So we should prepare to be fed a line.’
‘Play nice and keep an open mind,’ he said.
Field came back and headed back outside. ‘This way, please.’
She led them along the front of the building, footsteps brisk in a pair of sensible court shoes that rang against the paving, and to a smaller block landscaped with evergreens and with a water feature running next to its door. They were doing everything they could to make it not look like a prison, but there was no ignoring the gates and high fences, the cameras positioned at regular intervals and the key points wherever they went.
They passed through a nondescript reception area and into a suite of bland offices, via an airlock manned by a sturdy woman in a grey uniform. Field led them to a door at the end of the corridor, which was standing open ready for them.
The brushed steel nameplate read JAMES HAMMOND, GOVERNOR.
Field popped her head around the door, ‘Visitors for you, sir.’
Hammond was younger than Zigic was expecting, barely forty, smartly suited, clean-shaven and with blond hair carefully styled in a deep parting. He carried a vague air of
