Dumfries

by Todd, Ian

  “Right then, gentlemen, shall we get started? You’ll all have had time to peruse and think about the agenda that was agreed last week,” The Governor said, smacking they lips ae his, noisily laying doon his cup oan the saucer in front ae him.

  “Oh, er, Ah don’t seem tae hiv goat wan, Governor,” the SO said, looking aroond the group who wur aw sitting, surrounded by files.

  “Oh? I’m sorry about that, Mr Dick. I’ll have a word with Miss Beaker afterwards. I’m sure it must have been an oversight on her part. We’re here to discuss the recent arrival of the YOs who are currently in solitary confinement and how we proceed. I’m sure your contribution to the discussion, on behalf of your members will be meaningful and helpful in finding a way forward. Now then, Thomas, if you would like to lead off,” The Governor asked pleasantly, looking across at the fat brief.

  “Thank you, George. Right, so that we all know why I’m here and for the benefit of Mr Dick, I’m the main conduit between the Scottish Home and Health Department Prisons Section, otherwise known as The Department, and Dumfries YOI. Regarding the cohort of inmates that the governor is referring to, I understand that three inmates are on rule thirty six, one is on rule thirty nine and last but not least, one has been placed in solitary confinement for fourteen days as a result of an incident in Longriggend Remand Unit, where, as well as being the Governors’ Association Representative, Angus is also the governor. Now then, I suppose the glue that binds this meeting together is that the inmates already mentioned are known members of a notorious gang of thugs in Glasgow and because of that, gentlemen, concern has been raised in various quarters that these inmates may pose a particular risk by undermining the smooth running of this fine institution. To compound this concern, a few of them have been suspected…and I am emphasising the word ‘suspected’ here…of having been linked to a heinous murder some years back, that George’s dear wife had the misfortune of being caught up in the crossfire of. However, it is incumbent of me to remind everyone present, that what these inmates may have concerned themselves with, whilst on the outside, having not been charged, tried and convicted of, should not, in any way, influence how they are treated by The Department whilst serving sentences for other unrelated crimes.”

  “I think that goes without saying, Thomas,” The Governor agreed.

  “Yes, well, concern has been raised, on account of a petition to The Secretary of State by one of the inmates, an Anthony Gucci, that ‘harsh and unfair treatment, disproportionate to any offence committed’ is being directed towards him and the other inmates in solitary confinement,” The Brief said, looking up fae his file.

  “Did Gucci refer tae The Governor’s wife in his petition, Thomas?” The Chief asked.

  “No, from what I can gather, he’s a lot smarter than that, Henry,” The Brief replied, smiling.

  “So, whit’s The Department’s problem then?” The Chief continued.

  “Is the punishment that’s being meted out disproportionate?” The Brief asked, as aw eyes turned tae The Governor.

  “Smith had hardly been in the building half an hour before verbally abusing my authority with references to my wife’s disability. Both Henry and I remember him from Polmont. He was nothing but trouble when I was the AG back in 1971.”

  “Aye, claimed he wis a mute if ma memory serves me right. A right basket case, so he is. Never uttered a word in aw the time he wis there, although his actions mair than made up fur it. Caused the service a bloody fortune in replacing hauf the cell door locks in wan ae the wings, so he did.” The Chief agreed.

  “And Gucci?” The Brief asked.

  “Ye received the report and the statements fae the staff present at the meeting wae Gucci, Thomas. Whit mair is there tae say?” The Governors’ rep said.

  “Well, having studied your report and staff statements, we, that is, The Department, don’t agree with your conclusion that Gucci was threatening staff or their families. At most, or at a push, it could be construed, in some quarters, that he may have been threatening a riot down here in Dumfries, although that conclusion could be legally challenged,” The Brief replied, looking across at the POA rep, who wis sitting fidgeting, clearly wanting tae butt in.

  Silence.

  “By who?” The Governor finally asked tersely.

  “As well as Gucci’s petition, correspondence has been received from a Mr Graham Portoy, a Glasgow criminal solicitor, requesting clarification on why his client has been kept in solitary confinement under rule thirty six. This Portoy is threatening a legal challenge on his client’s removal from association with other inmates.”

  “Ye’re bloody joking!” The Chief blurted oot.

  “I’m afraid not, Henry.”

  “I have the authority, as the governor of this institution, under the 1952 Prison Rules Act, to remove any inmate that I deem to be undermining the authority and safe management of this institution. Correct me if I’m wrong, Angus,” The Governor hauf-yelped in disbelief o’er at the chair ae the Governors Association.

  “Ye hiv fae where Ah’m sitting, George,” Angus Diamond replied supportively.

  “No-one is saying you don’t have the authority under the Act, George, but in this instance, you don’t. We, The Department, believe that your reasoning behind the decision is flawed and open to legal challenge. This solicitor, Portoy, has made it clear that he’s prepared to go all the way on this, on behalf of his client.” The Brief said quietly.

  “On what grounds, for heaven’s sake?” The Governor demanded.

  “Why have you placed Gucci’s co-accused, McCabe, on rule thirty six? What rule has he broken?”

  “McCabe? Well, er, as you say, he’s Gucci’s co-accused…”

  “And there’s nae smoke withoot fire,” The Chief added.

  “…and I had every right to believe that any conspiracy on Gucci’s part, would involve his co-accused. Of that I am certain.”

  “So, this McCabe fellow, has been placed on rule thirty six, in solitary confinement, on the assumption that he may or may not be part of this, er, conspiracy?” The Brief asked, glancing across at The Governors’ Association rep, before focussing in oan George Crawford.

  “Thomas, with all due respect, it’s alright for the prisons manager, Jack Brown and his political secretary, Alistair Fleming, to sit back, up there in Edinburgh, dictating this and that. However, at the coalface, we governors have to respond to challenges every day of the week that may be distasteful to some well-meaning, liberal-minded people. I make no apologies for that.”

  “George, I’ve heard Jack Brown called some interesting things in the past, but liberal certainly isn’t one of them. Look, there has never been a young offender placed on rule thirty six in Dumfries’s history. In fact, we’re not sure that the rule has ever been applied elsewhere within the YO side of the service either. Now, we don’t have any issues with governors exercising the authority they have, but there are wider implications to consider here. Gucci has a point, as far as The Department is concerned. Millions of pounds have had to be spent in rebuilding the adult prisons. So far, the YO institutions have been spared, although we do accept that it’ll only be a matter of time before they too erupt. We’ve already discussed these concerns with Angus. This has nothing to do with Gucci per se. The fact that he has pointed out the obvious shouldn’t automatically be interpreted as him threatening to burn the place down around about your ears.”

  “Er, ah, er, if Ah may be allowed tae say something, sir?” Donald Dick, the SO asked The Brief, speaking fur the first time.

  “Yes?”

  “Wan ae that Gucci’s thugs his recently disfigured a brave prison officer’s face by punching it. Ah suppose ye’ll be expecting The Governor tae let him oot ae the chokey as well then?” Dickheid Dick, the SO said sarcastically, feeling the thrill ae getting wan o’er oan the fat, smug, pen-pushing lump ae lard.

  “Well, since you’ve brought it up, er, Mr Dick. Having studied the evidence and spoken with the local constabulary investi
gating team, Dumfries Police have informed The Department that there’s not enough evidence to charge the inmate, Johnston, with assault. As I understand it, Mr Hamilton, the unfortunate officer who was assaulted, was in a corridor, supervising inmates when he was assaulted. As there were over forty inmates in the close confines of the corridor, the police have said they’ve not been able to establish who carried out the assault. On the other hand, this Johnston has put forward the names of four other inmates, who swear that he did not assault Officer Hamilton to his severe injury,” The Brief volunteered.

  “That’s a damn lie! Everywan knows that it wis Johnston who threw that punch, so they dae,” The SO snarled.

  “Well, unless you can provide enough witnesses to contradict those who have stated otherwise, there is no reason to hold Johnston on rule thirty nine, either,” The Brief informed the POA rep, while looking across at The Governor.

  “Ma members won’t put up wae any ae this nonsense. Ah kin tell ye that right noo, so Ah kin,” The POA rep whined.

  “I’m sure your members will accept the reality of the situation, Mr Dick, given their obvious knowledge of all things legal. Jack Brown, The Scottish Prisons Manager is always quoting from the correspondence he receives from the POA, reminding him of his legal duty,” The Brief said coldly.

  “So, what are you actually saying, Thomas?” The Governor asked, knowing full well whit wis coming.

  “Look, no-one wants to undermine the good job you and Henry are doing down here in Dumfries, George. What we’re saying is that we need to keep everything in perspective. You have five young thugs at the start of their sentence. You don’t have to quote their backgrounds to us. We have far more intelligence on them than you’ll ever have. I think we need to start afresh here. From what I can gather, none of them have actually caused any wide-spread disruption in Dumfries other than Smith’s verbal diarrhoea when he first arrived. As Henry has correctly pointed out, the boy is clearly deranged and unpredictable. Having read his background reports, he really should be in Carstairs, the state mental hospital, rather than in an establishment like this,” The Brief said wae a wave ae his haun. “I’ll look into that, if it helps.”

  “So, you want them out of solitary? Is that what The Department is saying?”

  “That’s your decision as governor, George. What we’re advising is that you consider the wider implications for The Department. If you do decide to make the right decision here, then anytime in the future that any one of these particular inmates step out of line, you’ll have the full support of The Department to deal with them ruthlessly,” The Brief purred soothingly.

  Silence.

  “You mentioned five inmates, Thomas. One of them, Taylor, is not on rule thirty six. I have no authority to rescind his punishment. Angus gave him fourteen days in solitary confinement for assaulting another inmate and prison officers whilst he was up in Longriggend. He arrived here three days ago and was immediately placed in solitary, to fulfil his punishment after managing to swing a sojourn in Monklands Hospital,” The Governor said, looking across hopefully at Angus.

  “Ah, yes, George. Hivving discussed that oan the way doon here this morning and taking intae consideration Taylor’s injuries, Ah’m happy tae repeal that punishment oan this occasion, given the discussion we’ve jist hid. Thomas informed me that, as well as representing Gucci, this Portoy also represents the rest ae yer band ae thugs as well,” Angus said weakly, avoiding eye contact wae his fellow governor.

  “Yes, this Portoy fellow has got it in to his paranoid head that we had somehow engineered inmate Baxter’s temporary transfer to Longriggend for some ulterior motive,” The Fat Brief replied.

  “Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  A family and a community are in mourning after the body of missing five-year-old Joan Robertson was found in a disused tenement block in Portman Street, Kinning Park last night. It is believed the child was sexually assaulted before being strangled. As a massive police manhunt continues for those responsible, the stricken parents of the youngster, an only child, were being comforted by family and church officials. It is believed that Mr Robertson was an elder in his local church and his wife ran the Sunday school …

  A thirty-seven-year-old former taxi boss, Harry Stuart, has been sentenced to life in prison at the High Court today after being unanimously found guilty of shooting dead his business partner over a drugs deal that went wrong. It is believed that the partner, forty-one-year-old Dennis Jolly, interlaced a bag of heroin with talcum powder with the intention of maximising profits, but instead, rendered the drug so weak that those who bought it, returned it demanding their money back. This led to acrimony, whereupon Stuart lured Mr Jolly to a secluded spot near Meadowside Quay in Partick and shot him four times in the head. A second co-accused, Eric Thomas, a scrap merchant manager of Nethan Street, Govan, was found not guilty…

  A group of Indian Army bagpipers played to an appreciative audience in Glasgow’s George Square this afternoon, delighting passers-by with their knowledge and skills of Highland music…”

  Chapter Twenty Five

  “Hello, please take a seat. My name’s Fanny Flaw and I’m the resident social worker for Dumfries YOI. I’m sorry we’ve not met sooner, but I believe you’ve been out of general circulation. Your name is William Johnston. Is that correct?”

  “Er…aye, Ah suppose so.”

  “Oh, you seem hesitant. Have I got your name correct?” Fanny asked, frowning as she double-checked the name oan the cover ae the file.

  “Ma name’s Snappy. Everywan calls me Snappy, so they dae.”

  “Oh, right. So, you would prefer me to call you, er, Snappy?”

  “Sounds better than some ae the names Ah’ve been called in the past,” he replied, a wee grin appearing across that face ae his.

  “And both of your parents are alive and you have one brother and sister, I see. Will you be expecting family visits whilst you’re in Dumfries, William, er, Snappy?”

  “Nae idea. Er, kin Ah ask ye a wee question?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Where did that tag appear fae then?”

  “Tag?”

  “Aye, tag…yer name tag?”

  “Oh, my name? Sorry. I was named after my great grandmother.”

  “Who obviously wisnae fae the toon.”

  “The toon?”

  “The toon…y’know, Glesga?”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Believe you me, nae Gleswegian wae any sense between they lugs ae theirs wid ever stamp their daughter fur life wae a label like that. Ah bet ye goat a hard time at school, especially fae aw they boys, eh?” Snappy said chuckling.

  Fanny looked up as the thin, five feet eight inch tall, alabaster-faced youth, wae whit looked like sun-bleached, blond hair and matching eyebrows, arrived under escort and stood resting baith ae his hauns oan the back ae the chair, facing her oan the other side ae the desk. His file claimed him tae be eighteen-years-auld, bit he looked as if he hidnae reached his fourteenth birthday yet. People could’ve been mistaken fur thinking he looked angelic, however, the psychiatric and clinical psychology assessments and background intelligence information included wae his social background report in the file in front ae her, highlighted the fact that the angel staunin in front ae her wis suspected ae being the gunman in a string ae shootings, including murders. The security escort officer hesitated, bit turned and left them alane efter she gied him a nod that she’d take it fae there.

  “Hello, please take a seat. My name’s Fanny Flaw and I’m the resident social worker for Dumfries YOI. I’m sorry we’ve not met sooner, but I believe you’ve been out of general circulation. Your name is Samuel Smith. Is that correct?” Fanny asked, efter the inmate wordlessly slid intae the chair in front ae her, like a sleek, graceful albino cat.

  Silence.

  “It says here that you’ve been sentenced to five years for your involvement in an armed bank ro
bbery. Is that correct?” she asked, looking away fae him and back tae his file.

  Silence.

  “How are you feeling about the length of your sentence, Samuel?”

  Silence.

  “You must feel something surely?”

  Silence.

  “It also says here that you have no next of kin. Is that correct?” she asked, looking intae his pale, unblinking, soft grey eyes.

  Silence.

  “You may not remember, but we first met in Thistle Park in 1968,” she said, starting tae feel uncomfortable at the sound ae her ain voice bouncing aff the bare brick walls ae the office.

  Silence.

  “Right, er, well, look, if you require any support or need someone to talk to, then please feel free to put your name forward via one of the prison officers and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can,” she finished lamely.