by GB Williams
‘There are more important skills in the world.’
‘Maybe, but that one certainly seems to make things easier.’
‘True,’ Teddington said and smiled. Playing with the data, Teddington started frowning. Then, she started digging. She entered one more name ‘Bell, Lucas Charles,’ and what she read didn’t make sense.
‘Tony?’ she called the attention of the trainer who had left them in an exercise. ‘Did you say the data in here is the same data that will be going live?’
‘Yes, why?’
‘Because there are some major errors in it.’ She was frowning at the screen. ‘Information and reports on inmate behaviour that just isn’t correct.’
Worried about the information she was seeing on the database, Teddington asked to see the Governor, but Vera said he was booked tight over the next few days.
That evening, she went to the hospital to see Sanchez. She was pleased he had been moved out of the high dependency unit and into a general ward, and he was looking much better than he had the previous day. He smiled broadly as she approached.
‘Your mum and dad gone early?’
‘I don’t need babysitting anymore, not sure I needed it before.’
‘You were in intensive care,’ she mock-scolded him. ‘They care. Intensively. They wanted to be with you. So did I. That’s why we all spent as much time with you as we could. Besides, there’s various medical theories which suggest you could hear every word we were saying, and talking helps. Personally, I would have thought you’d have woken up sooner, just to tell your mother to shut up. That woman always could talk the hind leg off a donkey.’
Sanchez smiled, ‘And you got that saying from your mother.’
‘Oh God!’ She put one hand on her heart and the back of the other wrist on her forehead. ‘I’m turning into my mother. Shoot me now.’ The amateur dramatics brought a laugh, but as she lowered her hands, her shoulder pulled. She put her left hand up to it. ‘Guess I really shouldn’t joke about that.’
Sanchez smiled. ‘Hell, if we can’t joke about getting shot, who can?’
She spent the next hour surprisingly pleasantly with a friend, who wanted no more than to just be a friend. Well, that … and to recover from being shot.
She left the hospital and walked to the bus stop. Taking the 61, she stared out of the window, numbly watching as they drove. There wasn’t much to look at, but warm light spilled from the Ink Spot Tavern as they approached. As it was a popular stop, the bus slowed, and as it pulled over, Teddington looked through the windows of the recent extension, into the new restaurant space. She had to blink and concentrate, uncertain she was seeing what she was actually seeing.
Could it be?
She was focusing as the bus started to pull away. Yes it was. Robbins out dining with Rebecca Fry. And that was a more than friendly way to be holding a companion’s hand.
25
Her throat was dry and her palms sweaty as Teddington got out of her car and looked to the door of Whitewalk. Instead of coming back on light duty, she was coming back to a full shift on the wing. Staff shortages and a limit to overtime had forced the Governor’s hand in asking her to come back full duty. She had said she was ready, but now, she wasn’t sure.
This first shift was an early. She found the morning too cold to stand outside for long, so she locked the car door and rushed inside, before nerves got the better of her and she ran in the opposite direction.
The elevated heartbeat didn’t help as she reached the locker room to stow her bag, nor did the way her hands shook when she tried to open her locker.
‘Oh, get over it,’ she berated herself under her breath. ‘You managed when Richie asked for you – you can manage now.’ Determined again, she took a deep breath and headed to work.
The senior officer on the night shift gave the quick handover brief, which was a lot briefer than Teddington remembered them being, since all he had to report was everything was quiet and everyone behaving. She couldn’t have hoped for anything better for her first day back, but the butterflies in the stomach felt more like a flock of pterodactyls in attack mode.
She tried to control her breathing, as they moved through to the wing.
‘You okay?’ Robbins asked, as the last door was closed behind them. ‘You’re white as a sheet.’
She swallowed and took a deep breath as she turned to him. ‘I’m fine. Just out of the habit of getting up this early.’ It was good to be in without the inmates around, it gave her the opportunity to take a moment to gather her wits. ‘You take the left, and I’ll go right.’
‘We could unlock together,’ he suggested.
She smiled. ‘Thanks, but why waste the time?’ Instead, she headed off to the right and started unlocking the first door and pushing it back. ‘Morning, Phelps, Mercy,’ she greeted as she saw the pair.
‘Morning, Officer Teddington.’
‘Good to have you back.’
The two voices came out to her.
As she moved down the row, opening up, the different greetings were all variations of three themes; those two, and when was she going to wear the corset again. By the time they had moved up to the first landing, she found she was actually smiling. The pterodactyls had evolved into butterflies and even they seem to have settled down. Then, she came to Charlie’s cell, and she felt the hesitation, but she forced herself not to show it, as she slid the key in the lock and opened the door. Careful not to look into the cell, she pushed the door open and moved to the next, which she was unlocking when Charlie appeared at his door, frowning at her.
‘Isn’t this too soon for you to be back?’
She risked a look up as she drew the key from the lock. ‘A little, but after Brett, seems like I’m ready for it.’
She opened the door and pushed it wide into the room, before moving on to the next. She couldn’t show any preference for Charlie, and she had to do something to quiet the pterodactyls again. She felt sick, and had to make sure she didn’t glance up to see Charlie, because the urge to run to him was surprisingly strong.
She met up with Robbins halfway round, and they went directly up to the next floor to repeat the process. Though her heart did a flip when they had to walk past Charlie, she tried desperately not to react. She also wanted to stop and speak to Keen, but that wasn’t possible with Robbins always too close beside her.
In fact, she found he was at her side far too much through the shift. Part of her was grateful, but as time moved on, she just found it increasingly annoying. Eventually, just before lunch, Robbins left her in peace. Careful not to run, she headed up to the second floor and along to Keen’s cell.
As usual, Runt was at the door, but as she approached, she could hear muttered voices. It was normal to see Runt block the entrance of any potential attacker, but today, he just stepped aside and indicated she should step straight in. So, she did. She only faltered when she saw Keen’s visitor – Charlie Bell.
Oh, great!
‘Welcome back, Officer Teddington,’ Keen spoke seriously, as Bell passed him a hot cup of frothy coffee. ‘Cappuccino?’
She controlled her smile, mostly, as she said, ‘Please.’ It was Bell who stood by the kettle and mixed up the conveniently prepared sachet, requiring neither milk or barista. At Keen’s invitation, she sat in the second chair opposite him, as Charlie made the coffee.
She only realised Charlie had brought his own mug when he started making a third cup. Keen, she knew, only had two cups and saucers. She sipped the offering.
‘Urm, still the best coffee in the building.’ She looked from the coffee to the older man. ‘Since when did you start letting people sit on your bed?’ She noticed from the corner of her eye Charlie had frozen an inch from the mattress.
This time, Keen smiled, a rare and precious thing. He shrugged, then scowled at Charlie. ‘Oh, sit down, boy. Neither it, nor I, will bite.’
‘Well, he might.’ She smiled at Bell. ‘But only if you ask him nicely.’ The uncertain l
ook that engendered almost made her laugh, but she turned back to Keen. ‘Things are different.’
‘Yep.’ He covered his words with the raised cup, which he blew across. ‘And you need to be careful.’
She frowned at him. ‘Why?’
‘Up until now, you’ve been sacrosanct, but that could all change.’
‘Is that a threat?’ Charlie asked.
‘Not from him,’ Teddington assured.
‘Down, boy,’ Keen jokingly reprimanded the younger man, before turning back to Teddington. ‘Charlie here has a theory about what killed Tommy.’
‘A bloody great gash in the belly?’ Teddington suggested.
Charlie tipped his head, his eyes nearly sparkling with laughter, but the subject was too serious to reach it.
‘He was thinking, a pipe,’ Keen’s voice was kept low, his lips hidden by the cup.
Teddington thought about it. ‘Possible,’ she mused. ‘But, where from?’
‘Workshop.’ Charlie also kept his voice down, his mouth hidden by resting it on his hand, thumb beneath the chin, forefinger beneath the nose.
She looked to Keen. ‘Checked?’
He nodded. ‘Walters wasn’t my order.’
She conceded with a small blink. ‘Nor Winehouse’s.’
‘No,’ Keen allowed. ‘Leo’s.’
‘There isn’t one,’ she muttered. ‘Neither inmate nor staff. Did you speak to Holden?’
‘Why?’
‘He was supposed to be paroled a month ago. He’s still here, and I can’t find out why.’
Keen nodded. ‘I’ll look into it.’
‘Partridge is gone, too,’ Charlie said. ‘He shouldn’t be out.’
‘Fry pulled some strings,’ Teddington said.
‘Rumour is, that’s not all she pulled.’
Teddington frowned, her memory flashing up the image from the Ink Spot. ‘That has to be just a rumour.’
Charlie shrugged.
‘Anything else?’ She turned to Keen.
Keen shook his head.
Teddington’s eyes slipped from Keen to Charlie. She was overly aware Keen’s gaze was pinning her, not Charlie. ‘Your name’s on the work rota for tomorrow. You’ve got a shift in the garden.’
‘Why?’
She shrugged. ‘Guess Winehouse needs a strong back.’
‘What’s this?’
The three of them looked up at the man at the door. Officer Robbins wasn’t looking happy. ‘Meeting of ex-federation members?’
‘What?’
‘Best coffee in the house.’ Teddington raised her coffee to Robbins, before finishing the brew. She turned to Charlie, where he remained seated. He looked quizzical. ‘Didn’t you know? You’ve been talking to ex-Detective Superintendant William Keen of the Metropolitan Police.’
When Teddington took her lunch break, she ate her sandwiches while looking through the shift rota and workload allocation. It confirmed what she’d thought when she’d seen who she was on shift with that morning. Other than her and Robbins, they shared each shift on the wing with two other pairings, plus additional staff with specific task allocations. While she considered the implications of what she found, she thought about going over and looking through the work rota again, but thankfully, she hadn’t moved that way when Robbins came in looking for her.
‘What you up to?’
She couldn’t tell him. ‘I’m thinking about booking some holiday. God knows I could use a break. Just looking for times that have cover. Which it looks like we haven’t got for at least two months.’
‘If you need time off,’ Robbins looked concerned, his hand rose to her arm, rubbing it in an overly familiar way, ‘take it on medical. You shouldn’t be back yet.’
He was right, but he was also so very wrong. ‘Maybe.’ She smiled, checked her watch, and sighed. ‘God, time to get back to the coal face already.’
As they headed down, she could feel the weight of Robbins’ regard on her. Before they got to the wing, he asked what was on her mind.
‘Why did you go and see Keen this morning?’
‘Coffee,’ she explained easily, a carefully crafted look of open curiosity on her face. ‘I was desperate for one, and he has the best in the wing. It’s better even than the stuff in the canteen.’
If he had the slightest inclination she was lying, it didn’t show.
‘Put decent stuff in there, and it goes missing all too quick.’
Early shift ended mid-afternoon, and as eager as Teddington was to get home, she was more eager still to speak to the Governor.
Vera told her she’d have to wait, so she sat. Almost instantly, she was back up.
‘Vera?’
The woman looked up at her, all open and friendly.
‘What do you think of Rebecca Fry?’
Vera’s mouth formed a tight, straight light, her eyes darkened. ‘It’s not my place to think anything of her.’
‘Yeah,’ Teddington agreed. ‘I don’t rate her much either, but I’m hearing some worrying rumours.’
Vera’s eyes slipped towards the Guv’s office. ‘I can’t say anything.’
Teddington doubted it. But, Vera was openly uncomfortable, so she sat down and waited. Five minutes later, the Guv called her in, and she told him her concerns that the rota left staff vulnerable if the inmates did kick off.
The Governor smiled and shrugged. ‘The population is quiet. The improvements in behaviour just go to show the policies I’ve put in place are working.’
Policies he’d put in place? Teddington wanted to scream. The PSIs were coming thick and fast; she was struggling to keep up with them all. But, it didn’t change the fact he wasn’t the one working to those new instructions. She and the other officers were. ‘But, sir—’
‘I appreciate you’re on high alert after everything you’ve been through.’ He stood, making it clear she was to leave. ‘But, I believe all will be well.’
Entirely less certain, Teddington let him lead her out of the office. She pulled up short, surprised to see Rebecca Fry in the outer office. Forcing herself to be as natural as possible, she stepped out, nodding to Rebecca before the other woman went in.
At the outer door, Teddington glanced back. The smiles Fry and the Guv were sharing, the way the Guv’s hand lingered on the much younger woman’s lower back, was just a little over familiar. She glanced to Vera, who was head down, studiously not reading whatever was on her monitor. Cold chills ran down Teddington’s spine.
The following morning, Teddington felt much less nervous than she had the previous day. Her breathing was more regular, and her heart rate normal. Whatever she might think of the Guv’s attitude, the quiet on the wing helped. As she paced the landing, she glanced into Charlie’s cell. He was sitting, reading, and he didn’t look up from the tome.
Good. That’s good.
She told herself she was glad. It proved she was right. Whatever had happened between them, it wasn’t real.
Liar.
Yes, she acknowledged it was a lie as she moved on, but she was having to lie to herself a lot these days.
At the appointed time, she headed out to gardening detail. She pulled in a lungful of the much-needed fresh air, though there was little to be had, as she worked her way through the necessary checks, counting every implement to be sure all the equipment was present and correct before the men came out. It was.
As she had the job allocation before her, she knew who was to have what. When the inmates filtered in, she handed them the allocated tool and had it signed for. Near the end of the list now, were two more names to check off, the first man stepped forward. She handed over the dibber. She was staring at it, as the man took hold. She felt the frown building on her forehead. Was it possible? Could a dibber do that much damage?
‘Officer Teddington?’
The man called her name. She blinked at him. She felt the tug on her arm. She let go.
‘You away with the fairies there, ma’am?’
Sh
e smiled, ‘Apparently.’
As he moved away she looked up, Charlie was already before her.
‘A dibber?’ he queried, as he took and signed for the spade.
Could it be? It would match all the criteria from the autopsy.
‘Ari!’
She was surprised by the harsh whisper of her first name, and she blinked up at Charlie.
‘You okay?’
The frown wasn’t easing. ‘Get to work, Bell.’ Her heart sank to watch him go, for all she was glad of it. She was too close to the edge, and sympathy or understanding from him, of all people, might just push her over.
Her stomach in knots and her lungs feeling as constricted as if she still wore that corset, she was finally alone, so she stepped up to the hooks from which the dibbers hung. Three remained there. One at a time, she lifted each from the hook, and took it over to the shed’s barred window to inspect it in the light. What she found put a ligature around her neck, and someone was tightening it.
She needed air.
Stepping outside the concrete prefab shed, she closed the door behind her, and took a great lungful of air. It had the opposite effect to the one she expected – she just managed get behind the shed, before she gave up her breakfast.
Still bent double, she leaned with one hand on the shed, letting it take her weight, careless of the jagged stone render, as she struggled to control her breathing and tears in the aftermath of vomiting.
‘Here.’
Hating that she knew it was Charlie, she still took the water bottle he held out to her. She straightened, taking a big swig and swilling her mouth, spitting the result to the floor. She rinsed again, before she wiped the sport top and stood up to face him. She missed the three inches her boots had added when they’d been away from the prison.
‘Should’ve run when we had the chance.’
He frowned down at her. ‘Now that isn’t real.’ He looked her over, and she was willing to bet she looked awful. ‘You shouldn’t be back in work yet.’
‘No,’ she agreed. ‘But, you need to get back to it. Go on.’ She pushed him lightly on the shoulder when he just stood there. ‘Put your back into it.’
