Once the jar was back in its hole, I removed the wine bottle and peered at the top of it, the cork hidden beneath a layer of foil. There was a pattern cut into the foil, one that looked like a flower; six petals surrounding a central pistil. I ran my finger gently across and wondered whether it would work. There was nothing to do but try. The job needed to be done and worrying about it didn’t help.
I grabbed the syringe and carefully pushed the needle through one of the gaps. It looked quite thin and I hoped the cork would return to normal once I was finished. After making sure the needle poked out from the underside of the cork, I pushed the plunger completely down. It didn’t take a lot of Thallium to kill and I knew the dose I had just injected would do its job at least 50 times over.
Once I removed the needle, the hole didn’t look as bad as I was expecting. It was there, but doubted it would be noticed by anyone unless they specifically looked for it. I suddenly panicked. What if he did? What if Frank suspected something and inspected the cork like a paranoid schizophrenic?
There was nothing I could do about it and decided to let it go. No use worrying about shit I had no control over. I heard a toilet flush through the wall and returned the syringe to the wall cavity. A tap began to run and I returned the bottle back inside the pillow, wrapping the whole kit into a pillow case. The trap had been set. All that was left to do now was deliver the package to the enemy.
4.
“Ah, here he is,” Frank said as I stepped into his cell, package in hand. “My special pillow?” he asked as I handed the delivery to him. I nodded with a small grin. He took it and opened the pillow, staring at the bottle’s label just as the door opened behind me. Nails walked in, looking nervous for the first time.
“Here he is. The man of the moment.” He stood and shook with the new arrival before sitting again.
“The man of the moment?” I asked, but Nails just scowled at me. Frank interjected.
“Now, now, lads. Maybe it’s time to end this hostility between you boys. You are brothers, after all. Maybe we should crack the cork on this now. To drink to good health and celebrate your upcoming adventure.” I didn’t follow, but felt my panic rise a little. Taking the slightest taste from the bottle could mean a death sentence. If Frank followed through, it would mean the end of my revenge act before it even began.
“I’ll drink once it’s done,” Nails said. “Not before.”
“Once what’s done?” I asked, again having my question ignored. Frank and Nails exchanged one of those looks I now associated with the Visit Centre incident. The bottle sat on Frank’s lap, his fingers gripping the neck tightly. He nursed it like he would a winning lottery ticket.
“Let’s just say our young friend here is going on a little journey. You’ll find out to where in due course.” Frank looked at me with a little annoyance. “Was there anything else?”
I took the hint, hoping the pair enjoyed their final few minutes and left the cell. It was close to dinner time and was glad to get the hell out of there. I wasn’t sure whether they would share a final drink, Nails no doubt the one to try and bust out for freedom using the gun. There was no doubt in my mind that he was there to retrieve the firearm from Frank’s cell. I didn’t know when he would try and break out, or how, but found my interest minimal. I didn’t care.
5.
Russel ‘Nails’ Blackman became the first man to ever escape from King’s Castle Prison on Saturday, October 7th, 2006. It was a brilliant plan, one that I was actually quite impressed with, given my hatred for the guy. It cost the life of a single officer and without firing a single shot.
It was bloody perfect. An officer named William Stanley had joined the prison a few months prior, graduating from his intake class that very week. Because he was fairly new, not a lot of officers knew him that well and that was what worked in Nail’s favour.
Their appearance was strikingly similar, except for the thin mop of facial hair the crook wore. But reports say he’d shaved it off that very evening. Nails approached the station half an hour before lockdown requesting a quick trip to medical. The screws handed him a slip and he left the unit.
Once out, he spotted Stanley walking through the gym corridor and stopped to ask him about getting a library book to study for a test he had the next day. Nails convinced the new officer that he had a key for the closed library, the entrance of which joined the gym corridor about half way down.
The new officer fell for the ruse, unlocking the library and following the crook inside. It was a string of mistakes that ended up costing the screw his life. The rumours I heard was that Nails pulled the gun and had the officer drop to his knees with his back turned to him. Nails used the butt of the pistol and smashed the officers head in with a single blow. He stole his uniform, put on his belt, keys and radio and waited for the final call for lockdown. Once officers began to walk past the library, Nails simply let himself out and followed the crowd.
According to reports, not every officer was required to wait for the final muster to be called correct. Certain staff left the prison, particularly those not associated with units, such as Stanley. Nails simply followed the crowd and was eventually outside the gates. He even managed to bum a ride
