by Graham, Tom
He strode out into the corridor, and at once walked straight into the boy with the mop. The boy stumbled back from where he’d been eavesdropping, stepping into his bucket and toppling it. Water gushed all over the floor, and the boy splashed through it as he fled, chucking aside his mop and belting away along the corridor.
Sam marched resolutely ahead, Annie hurrying along after him.
‘Sam, calm down, keep a clear head.’
‘My head’s perfectly clear, Annie. Never been clearer.’
‘You’re sounding like the Guv! Get a grip of yourself.’
‘That boy there!’ Sam declared, pointing at the lad running away and disappearing round a corner. ‘You see what he had on his uniform? A brown patch of cloth. A “Stain” to mark him out as corrupted, as less than human. McClintock’s orders. It’s like bloody Auschwitz in this place! But not any more. Not any more!’
‘Sam!’ Annie reached out and caught his arm, stopping him. ‘Just stop and think. Don’t go swaggering about like the Guv. That’s not the way and you know it. You’re Sam – so act like Sam.’
He looked at her, at her serious, round face, her searching eyes, her brown, bobbed hair that danced lightly above her shoulders as she walked. He wanted to shield her from everything, from every dark and malignant thing out there that would do her harm. He wanted to sacrifice himself, if that’s what it took, so that the terrible Fate decreed for her was averted and her future became her own once more.
Break the System, he thought. Break the System, break Fate, and break that damned Devil in the Dark. I can do it. I know I can do it.
Behind her, stepping out of Mr Fellowes’s office doorway, appeared the Test Card Girl, clutching her bandaged dolly and fixing Sam with a look of infinite sadness, infinite despair.
I have to do it! he told himself. I don’t have a choice. The stakes are too high. They’re way too high.
‘Come on,’ he said, taking Annie’s hand and marching with her along the corridor. ‘Let’s find Donner and get this case wrapped up.’
When he glanced back, the Test Card Girl was gone.
‘Where do you think he’ll be?’ asked Annie as she strode with Sam down the long, bleach-stinking corridors.
‘There can’t be too many places,’ said Sam. ‘Donner tends to work in the kitchens. But I think there are dormitories just along here somewhere. We could try there first.’
As they reached one of the dorms, a boy in dungarees rushed out, glanced at them, and then raced off again.
‘That was the lad who was mopping the floor,’ Annie whispered. ‘You think he’s spreading the word about what he’s overheard?’
‘I bet the rumour mill’s in full swing.’ Sam nodded. ‘That could work to our advantage. If the boys know McClintock’s under arrest, they might be more willing to cooperate.’
Together, they approached the dorm. It was a bleak room of whitewashed brick, lined with neat, grey beds. A dozen or so boys, all dressed in regulation prison overalls and bearing their brown ‘Stain’, were whispering intensely among themselves, but at once fell silent. They turned and stared silently, but not at Sam. All eyes were on Annie. The atmosphere became charged with a menacing sexual tension.
Sam held up his ID badge. ‘My name’s DI Tyler. Don’t worry, lads, we’re on your side, believe it or not.’ He was answered with a tense silence. ‘We’re looking for Donner. Anyone know where he is?’
Looking around, Sam spotted a tall, red-haired boy with powerful shoulders amongst the other lads. His face was familiar. It took a moment, but then the memory came back to him: when he and Gene had first come to Friar’s Brook, this lad had been one of those they’d seen being punished out in the yard.
‘Priest,’ Sam muttered, recalling the boy’s name.
The boy’s face tightened suspiciously. He, too, clearly remembered Sam striding up and refusing to let the warder carry on beating him. Did the memory rankle with him, that he had been seen in such a helpless and victimized state? Did it hurt the lad’s macho pride? And now, to be recognized and named by a copper in front of his fellow inmates, did that tar him in their eyes, make him suspect? He certainly seemed to be looking at Sam with an expression that was as resentful as it was suspicious.
A uniformed warder suddenly loomed into the open dormitory doorway.
‘What’s going on here?’ he demanded. He eyed Annie insolently.
Annie stood her ground and fixed the warder with a look. ‘My name’s WDC Cartwright. Me and DI Tyler want to speak to Donner.’
‘Oh, really, love?’
Sam’s temper flared within him. But Annie kept control of herself.
‘Donner,’ she repeated. ‘Where is he?’
The warder smirked, and looked across at Sam. ‘Do you speak an’ all, or do you let your crumpet do all the talking?’
Sam was ready to give the smug little bastard a straightener, right there in front of the boys. But, before he could do anything, Annie took a step closer to the warder, planting herself aggressively in front of him, speaking clearly and forcibly.
‘I am a police officer conducting a serious investigation. I have asked you a question, sir. If you choose not to answer that question I will arrest you, sir, I will arrest you for obstruction, and I will have you hauled out of here in handcuffs and I don’t mean in a fun and kinky way, sir, and by the time my DCI has had words with you in your cell down the station you will be regretting, sir, you will be deeply regretting your refusal to cooperate, I assure you of that, sir, I most sincerely assure you of that. So if you don’t want your balls busted back down the station I advise you answer my question when I ask. Where is Donner?’
The warder stared at her for a moment, open-mouthed. She wasn’t bluffing. He knew she wasn’t bluffing. And she knew that he knew.
‘You’d better follow me,’ he muttered, and led the way.
Annie strode confidently after him, her head high, her jaw firm. She had clearly watched the Guv in action. She had watched, and learnt. Sometimes, and in moderation, Gene’s methods had their uses.
Sam hesitated, shooting a glance back at the boys in the dorm. Their expressions were hard to read. They had heard the rumour, that McClintock was being given a going-over by CID, and now they had seen a copper – a female copper – fronting out one of the screws. Did they sense the end of the oppressive regime here at Friar’s Brook? Did they see the System starting to crumble?
If they did, their faces betrayed nothing of their emotions. They had learnt too well to keep their feelings well hidden.
Sam looked once more at Priest, but the boy’s face was as unreadable as a carved Easter Island head.
Without a word, Sam turned away and strode from the dorm.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: DONNER SPEAKS
Donner was at his usual place, in the kitchens peeling spuds. He looked up at Sam without surprise or interest, his face as bland and unreadable as before. He seemed barely even to register Annie at all.
‘We need to speak to you,’ said Sam.
Donner meekly set down his peeling knife, wiped his hands on a dishcloth, and let them lead him down one of the bleached and polished corridors.
‘You can speak in there,’ said the warder, opening a door onto a small room containing nothing but rows of folded-up plastic chairs.
‘Thank you,’ said Sam curtly. ‘Now leave us.’ And, when the warder hesitated, Sam added severely, ‘I said leave us. This is a CID matter.’
Unsettled, sensing that something was up, the warder headed back to the kitchens. Donner watched this whole exchange with unblinking eyes, taking it all in, but revealing nothing in his expression.
‘Here,’ said Sam, unfolding a chair for Donner. ‘It’s all right, it’s not a trap.’
Everybody sat down – Sam and Annie on one side, Donner on the other. The lad gazed blankly at them with pale eyes.
Sam said, ‘I want to start by saying that if you cooperate with us, Donner, I guarantee I will do everything in my pow
er to get you transferred to an open borstal far from here. Is that a deal?’
‘Have you arrested Mr McClintock?’ Donner suddenly asked.
Sam had to admit that he was impressed. The boy had read the situation perfectly. The sudden arrival of CID, Sam’s curt dismissal of the warder, the urgent need to interview Donner formally – he had at once fitted the pieces together and seen what was happening.
‘We’ve arrested him.’ Sam nodded. ‘Near as damn it.’
‘Then you haven’t arrested him,’ Donner corrected him.
‘He’s being interviewed by other officers at this very moment. With your testimony, we can formally charge him.’
‘And then you’ll have me transferred to an open borstal?’
‘Yes,’ said Sam emphatically. ‘I promise you that. Will you cooperate?’
Donner thought about it, and then said at last, ‘Yes, I’ll cooperate.’
‘You trust me?’
‘I trust you.’
‘And you trust my colleague here, WDC Cartwright?’
Donner looked over at Annie as if he had only just noticed her existence. After a moment, he nodded. Yes, he trusted her.
Excellent, Sam thought. We’ve got the boy on side. I knew he’d respond to fair treatment.
‘Then we can do business together,’ he said. ‘Let’s talk. And remember, I want nothing but the truth.’
‘Of course.’
‘Craig Tulse, the boy who was burned in the kitchen?’
‘It was Mr McClintock who killed him,’ said Donner simply.
‘Go on,’ prompted Sam.
‘Tulse was always goading him, answering back, trying to make a fool of him. One morning in the kitchens Mr McClintock just snapped. He grabbed Tulse and shoved his face towards one of the gas rings. Maybe he didn’t mean to go as far as he did, but …’
Donner shrugged.
‘You saw this happen?’ asked Sam.
‘Of course I did. How else would I have known about it?’
‘You might have heard that story as a rumour,’ Annie suggested.
‘I don’t listen to rumours.’
‘Okay,’ Annie said, ‘then you might be lying.’
‘Like I said, I’m telling you the truth.’ Donner’s voice was flat, almost uninterested. ‘I was in the kitchens. I saw Mr McClintock kill Tulse, and then I helped him cover it up.’
‘You?’ asked Sam. ‘Why?’
‘Because I was the only witness. I was in danger. So I told Mr McClintock what I’d seen – that it was a faulty gas stove, that it had blown up in Tulse’s face. What else could I say? That cover story saved my life. And Mr McClintock used it to gain more funds to rebuild the kitchens, claiming they were dangerous – so it all paid off for him in the end.’
Sam glanced at Annie, saw from her expression that she was far from convinced. But he decided to plough on anyway.
‘And what about Tunning?’ he asked. ‘The official report said he hanged himself in his cell.’
‘He didn’t hang himself,’ Donner said, without a flicker of emotion. ‘Mr McClintock turned up in the middle of the night with a few other warders. They held him down while Mr McClintock strangled him, then hung up the body to make it look like suicide.’
‘And once again you just happened to be there and witness it all?’ Annie asked.
‘Of course I happened to be there. I was sharing a cell with Tunning when it happened.’
‘But I thought you boys slept in dorms,’ Annie went on. ‘I saw one myself. There were a dozen beds in there.’
‘Special privileges,’ Donner replied. ‘Two to a cell for good behaviour. Better than the dorms.’
‘But Tunning was a troublemaker,’ Annie said. ‘Why would he be rewarded with a double cell?’
‘McClintock wanted to punish him, good and proper. But he didn’t want a dozen witnesses. So he moved him in with me, so it’d be private. And he knew from what happened with Tulse that I’d keep my mouth shut.’
Annie shook her head. ‘This all sounds very far-fetched.’
‘You asked for the truth,’ said Donner.
‘But that’s not what we’re getting, is it?’
Fearful that Annie’s attitude would alienate Donner and make him clam up, Sam interjected, ‘We’re not here to judge you, Donner. We just want to hear what you have to say. Okay – you’re telling us that Mr McClintock was directly responsible for the deaths of Tulse and Tunning. What about Andrew Coren – what can you tell us about him?’
‘He tried to escape,’ said Donner. ‘Not that it was his idea. It was mine.’
‘Yours?’ Annie frowned.
Donner slowly turned his head to look at her. ‘Of course. Who else in here would have thought of it?’
Sam tried to shush Annie, but she ignored him.
‘You came up with the idea of getting smuggled out on the back of one of those junk lorries?’ she went on. ‘Why didn’t you make use of that plan yourself?’
‘How could I? I work in the kitchens. I’m rostered to work in the kitchens. It was Coren and them others who were on labour duty, not me.’
‘Labour duty,’ said Sam. ‘You mean clearing out the old fridges and ovens?’
‘Of course that’s what I mean,’ said Donner. ‘I could see them breaking up all that stuff and loading it onto the lorries, and I realized at once that if you could get inside one of those old fridges you could get yourself carried out of this place right under the screws’ noses. You’d be well away before anyone knew you were missing.’
‘Would you?’ asked Annie, sceptically. ‘What about roll call? Surely they take a name check at the end of the shift to make sure everyone’s accounted for?’
Donner’s mouth pulled into a tight smile, just for a moment. ‘I thought of that. It’s simple. You just get somebody to answer “sir” for you when the screw calls your name out.’
‘We sometimes pulled the same trick at school with the morning register,’ said Sam.
‘Then you see it’s possible,’ said Donner.
‘Oh, grow up,’ Annie cut in. ‘There’s a world of difference between a borstal and a comprehensive.’
‘Not the one I went to,’ muttered Sam under his breath.
Annie ignored him. ‘Somebody saying “Here, sir” on behalf of somebody else? I don’t see the warders here falling for a cheap, Bash Street Kids trick like that, Donner.’
‘Do you not?’
‘No. No, I don’t.’
‘That just shows what you know, then, doesn’t it?’ And with that Donner sat back and stared ahead, thinking his own thoughts.
‘I think what Donner means to say, Annie, is that the warders did fall for it,’ said Sam. ‘If they hadn’t, Coren wouldn’t have made it as far as Kersey’s Yard, and we wouldn’t be sitting here now.’
‘Aye,’ said Donner. ‘He gets it.’
A telling remark. I think he’s starting to warm to me. Is that what Annie’s doing – playing bad cop to my good cop? Maybe she’s right to be hard on him after all. Perhaps I should play along.
‘So,’ he said, leaning towards Donner with an expression of openness and honesty. ‘You figured out your escape plan, but you couldn’t make use of it yourself.’
‘I would have to have got myself transferred from the kitchens to the labour detail,’ the boy said. ‘And to do that I would have had to have applied to Mr McClintock. He’d have wanted to know why. He’d have been suspicious.’
‘Because of what you know about him, the things you’ve seen him do?’
Donner tilted his head and looked slyly at Sam. ‘And because he knows I’m not like the others. I’m smart. I play chess.’
‘Play chess? On your own?’ asked Annie, raising an eyebrow.
Donner paused for a moment, then said mildly, ‘I cut out chess problems from magazines.’
‘Which magazines?’
‘Any magazines.’
‘Such as? Name one.’ And Annie fixed him with a look. Sh
e waited.
Donner turned to Sam. ‘Is she always like this?’
‘She’s a police officer,’ Sam shrugged.
‘Isn’t she just?’
‘I think we’re getting sidetracked,’ Sam said. He was concerned that Annie was overdoing it. If Donner clammed up or got stroppy and retracted his statement, they were stuffed. ‘You worked out an escape plan, but you couldn’t make use of it yourself. But why did you give that plan to Coren and not one of the other boys?’
‘Coren was perfectly suited to make the attempt,’ Donner said flatly. It was almost as though he were speaking lines committed to memory. ‘He had the right mentality to escape – he’d escaped from borstals before. He was small enough to fit inside one of those fridges. And he had a brother on the outside who could meet him at the other end. You see, I figured that you’d need help getting out of the fridge at the other end. It might be stuck under a load of heavy junk, or chained up, or you might get grabbed by the workers in the scrapyard when they saw you suddenly appear.’
‘You’ve really thought this through,’ said Sam.
‘Of course I have.’
‘I’m impressed.’
Donner looked flatly at him, a curious expression that Sam was not sure he could read, and then, without warning, he said to Annie, ‘The British Chess Magazine if I can get it. The Guardian – that prints chess problems. And, if a screw brings it in, The Times, but that’s rare.’ And after a pause he added, ‘Or I recall them from memory. I have a good memory for chess problems. And other things.’
He’s showing off, thought Sam. He’s preening himself. Maybe he’s even flirting. Either way, it’s all to the good. He’s talking. Let’s keep him at it.
Sam went to ask another question, but Donner began speaking, unprompted.
‘I saw the opportunity to escape in one of the old fridges. I worked out how to get marked down as present on the roll call. I foresaw the need to be met by a trusted contact on the outside – the real problem, as I saw it, was making the necessary arrangements with that contact. I needed a way to get messages to them in secret, without the screws being aware. So I worked out a code.’
Sam frowned. Derek Coren, lying in his hospital bed, had told them how he and his brother had been using that code for years, that they had worked it out between themselves.
