I never did find out the relationship of the detective constable to Nurse Carstairs. That afternoon I was transferred back to prison and put in the sick bay.
After lockdown that night, there was a commotion. We knew immediately that somebody had died; it was that sort of commotion. Harry was looking out of the window and I knew he was the root cause of the commotion.
‘Peter Jackson, Harry?’ I asked.
‘I think it might be, Captain. He made a phone call today.’
‘Will you be in any trouble?’
‘No, I shouldn’t think so. I received a call to tell him to make a call to his brief.’
‘Petal’s weapon? Peter said she was deadlier than the male.’
‘Oh, she is. I think she was some form of reptile in a previous life and brought all her venom with her.’
‘Want to talk, Harry?’
‘No, not really, Captain. When it is my time to go I’ll ask Petal to fix it. Go to sleep and then it’s all over.’
‘It’s after lockdown; how would the screws know if it’s that quiet?’
‘Simple. The phone call must have told him there was no reprieve. He took the stuff and set an alarm. The alarm would keep going until the screws opened his cell to turn it off and they would find him dead.’
‘How you feeling, Harry?’
‘Bloody awful, Jake. I had an obligation to meet and I met it but I really can’t feel any upside to that.’
‘So you are free and clear.’
‘Yes, Captain. Free of all obligations now apart from keeping you alive.’
‘Thank you in advance for that, Sergeant.’ We had moved through the emotional support to the reality of our jobs.
‘What will happen now?’
‘Bennie Copland will take over as the top man. We will ensure a smooth transition. Well, I’ll ask you to get Arty and Big Fred to nursemaid Bennie and you can be an advisor to him. That’s what Peter Jackson wanted as you won’t be around long enough to do the job. Peter was really surprised you were undercover; he wanted you as his successor, but he had doubts about you surviving the fight.’
‘Wow, thanks for that, Harry.’
‘I knew you would survive, Captain.’ There was something in the way he said that but I wasn’t going to ask. Was it in what he had just said? ‘Free of all obligations now apart from keeping you alive.’
45
Four days later, I was sent for by the governor and escorted to his office. In his office were Sir Nicolas Ross and two men I didn’t know. As I walked in Sir Nicolas stood and held out his hand.
‘Great to see you again, Jake, and we’ve some more good news.’ We shook hands. ‘This is Mr Christopher Hughes of the Home Office, and this is Mr Mark Hoffman of the Foreign Office.’
Both were in dark suits, white shirts and club ties. Forty years ago they would also have had bowler hats. Times change, but only slowly in the civil service. They stood, I shook hands formally with them and they sat down again. It was a ritual that they probably just did and didn’t recognise. Sir Nicolas turned to the governor.
‘Governor.’
The governor now had the attention, and spoke. ‘Please have a seat, Mr Robinson.’ He didn’t look a happy bunny. ‘You’ll be aware that Sir Nicolas has been attempting to secure your release and have the case against you quashed.’ He didn’t specify which case. ‘That, it seems, has been achieved. Mr Hughes brought the documentation for your release from this prison. I’ll release you into his charge and you’ll go to the American Embassy and there the formalities will be completed.’ So it was the case that got me in here undercover.
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I trust you’ll not be in trouble again, Robinson.’
Mr Hughes replied. ‘I sincerely hope not, Governor. Captain Robinson will return to his post in the security service, assuming he wishes to do so, now that this unfortunate error has been satisfactorily resolved.’
‘I think we should be going eh, Jake. Mr Hughes, Mr Hoffman, Governor,’ said Sir Nicolas.
‘There’s the matter of Captain Robinson’s belongings,’ said the governor.
‘Please give them to charity, Governor. You can have your natty blue suit back and I’d like to say goodbye to Harry Mount.’
‘Certainly, I’ll have him brought here.’
‘I’d prefer to go and see him.’
I waited in the governor’s office while my clothes were located. Sir Nicolas smiled and said, ‘It seems you stirred up some more trouble then, Jake.’
‘What have I done now?’
‘The Home Secretary has been talking to his opposite number in justice. It seems they’re considering, on a trial basis, the release of three prisoners from here. Not settled yet, just an experiment.’
How did Mabry even know? Of course, the thing I asked Mo to write. Why would he bother? The power of contacts thumped home to me. No wonder The Family was so powerful they could manipulate the law as a favour to someone. I knew where my £50k for this job would have gone.
I got changed into my own clothes and then went to see Harry. As I walked up towards our, now Harry’s, cell Senior Officer James met me.
‘Goodbye, Batman,’ she said.
‘Batman?’
‘Yes, you fly in here and meet up with your mate Robin. You permanently get rid of three very bad guys while doing good things with some others who needed help. You also get rid of two prison officers who were a disgrace, teetered on the brink of disaster that could have had you beaten to death, and you’ve magically resolved that and now you fly off. I expect Robin will be out of here in a few weeks.’
‘Ma’am, you’ve a magnificent imagination but I’m glad you were my personal officer. I’d never had one of those before.’
She laughed. We shook hands and as we were about to part, she placed her hands on my shoulders and kissed my cheek.
In the next half hour I said goodbye to Harry. It was clear the whole prison knew I was out and I was surprised at the send-off. The landings were full and they looked down on me. My class weren’t very happy about losing their teacher but they were pleased for me.
Arthur pushed his way to me and took my hand. ‘I don’t know how I can repay you, Captain, but I will if I can.’ He wrapped his massive arms around me.
‘Thank you, Arty.’
Dad shook my hand. There were tears in his eyes and he and Arthur walked away. I felt emotional. I was walking away and Mo came up to me.
‘Thank you, Captain. I’m already at point one of my plan. Thank you.’ He held out his hand and we shook.
‘You won’t have heard yet, Mo, but you might just get a little help with your release plan for three prisoners on a trial basis. Watch the political press.’
I was driven away in a chauffeur-driven, midnight-blue BMW series seven, very relieved and able to fully relax for the first time in weeks. I settled back in the deep leather seats and felt free and scared. I suppose freedom is scary. I’d not noticed that before my incarceration.
I was out, I was free, I was going home and I was sure I could really start to find out what this killing was all about, but staying alive had been the real success.
Memories are strange. I thought Peasmarsh was a ‘good’ prison. Yet, it had also been the scene of violence and I’d been in the middle of that. Despair couldn’t be hidden. I felt it before I walked through the doors, so that was probably just me, and I saw it all around me when I was inside. Some people in there should have been in other forms of institution and some should have had hard labour as the old prison system had. I now knew that one size didn’t fit all. I also felt that rehabilitation was underestimated but how to achieve that I’d no idea. Being able to read and having a job when leaving school struck me as essential for the reduction of crime and some of my students, if they’d been able to read and write, might never have gone down the destructive paths they took.
I can still picture the tier-upon-tier of cells, and the only colour I remember is grey,
although I doubt the walls were actually painted that colour. My strongest memories were of the noise and the smell, an overwhelming drone punctuated by shouts and the clank of metal on metal as doors opened and closed, and the pervasive boiled cabbage. I must admit to the occasional panic when I thought I might never get out.
Yes, I was out, I was free, I was going home to Sam and I was sure I could really start to find out why Jase was killed and why he killed Michael Carmichael, but staying alive had been the real success.
Postscript
Barrow and Sam had a conversation which resulted in the conclusion that I had to see a counsellor. My counsellor was Pauline Byford. She was a very bright and an extremely ugly, dwarf, female psychiatrist. She was with MI6. That did worry me as I’d worked with them on interrogations. They’d the ability to get inside people’s heads and didn’t seem concerned at the psychological damage they might do. She had a large head with protruding forehead, a large bulbous nose, thick lips, no chin, very short legs and a long body, short arms and stubby, thick, podgy fingers. She was about 4 foot 6 inches tall. However, despite looking so odd, she was extremely pleasant and totally non-judgemental – unlike me, with my stupid assumptions, that because she looked odd and was a psychiatrist she would be unpleasant and judgemental. I suppose that demonstrates how screwed-up I’d become. It didn’t take long for her to get me to recognise the problems that I had.
Her office was like a mad psychiatrist film set. She had a bookcase that covered one wall and a desk that sat in front of a massive window overlooking a small, enclosed park that only residents could enter. Another area of her office wall had at least eight framed certificates. I was on a leather psychiatrist’s couch and felt like a prat and she sat out of sight behind my head. This was like a scene from the horror movie, Dr Umust Bumphimofski.
She quickly identified that I was depressed, with some other bits. Much of that was resolved by her taking me through the events of that day in the showers from my perspective and then from the perspective of the now-dead men and finally from the perspective of the other prisoners, particularly those who were later showing me respect. The biggest revelation was when she got me to celebrate killing them. If anybody had come in her office when we were doing that both of us would have been locked up. I ended up rolling on the floor, laughing so much that I thought I would wet myself. Laughter is always the best medicine or so I had been told.
I was amazed how quickly I recovered. Logic back, anxiety gone, sexual functioning restored, nightmares gone; all I wanted now was to get on with the job. I was again Jake Robinson, or was I? I now had the basics to go forward and find out why it was that Jase really killed Carmichael and to explore the question of whether Carmichael was a killer. If Carmichael was a killer, who had he killed and why? Why was that a problem for The Family? Anyway, Barrow wanted to know, because of the connection to The Family and finding answers may have helped in the battle against organised crime.
So, now I’d another project to drive: to hunt the killer.
Hunt the Killer
When Jake leaves prison there is a contract on him. Why? Others who had contact with Jase had been killed.
The leads from the prison reveal the real reason that Jase killed Major Michael Carmichael and Jake teams up with Inspector Kitty Halloway to hunt for a horrendous serial killer. Was it Michael Carmichael?
The story wheels and rolls in a helter-skelter of excitement and suspense as Jake and Kitty hunt for who the killer was and feel their way through the shadowy world controlled by The Family. But who in The Family is Jake’s ‘friend’? And who has taken out a contract on him?
Staying Alive Page 22
