‘All bad I’m sure.’
Goodman didn’t smile. ‘All very interesting,’ he said after a short pause, his silence confirming that yes, it had all been bad. ‘And you’re here to see William Garrett?’
‘That’s right. I understand he was attacked three days ago. Can you tell me what happened?’
Goodman nodded, an expression of distaste sitting all too easily on his face. ‘It was a most regrettable incident. We pride ourselves here at Westmoor on the peaceful, tolerant environment we’ve fostered, and as such, relations between individual prisoners, and between prisoners and staff, are generally very good. This fight was a rarity. There was a confrontation between Mr Garrett and another Category A prisoner, Eric Hughes, inside the main recreational area toilets of the prison’s Central Maximum Security Section, where they’re both housed. Both prisoners were injured, and were hospitalized in separate sections of the hospital here. They’ve since been released from the hospital, but we don’t know what caused their altercation, since both prisoners refused to cooperate with the police when they were interviewed yesterday.’
‘Was it captured on film?’
‘No. The camera covering the main area of the toilet was out of order. By the time the control room realized it wasn’t working, and had organized someone from maintenance to examine it, the fight was over.’
‘So it suggests a degree of planning.’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ said Goodman defensively. ‘Two of our officers heard the commotion from the toilets. They ran inside and intervened.’
‘You describe it as a fight, but Mr Garrett sustained some major slash wounds. It sounds like he was attacked by the other man.’
‘We can’t be certain. The camera in the corridor outside recorded each man going into the toilets approximately thirty seconds apart, but it was impossible to see which one was carrying the knife. And when the officers went in, the two men were struggling violently on the floor, with Mr Garrett on top of Mr Hughes, punching him, even though he was losing a lot of blood. The homemade knife that was used was a few feet away. It’s been taken away by the police for examination, and we’re awaiting the results.’
‘Can you tell me about the other prisoner – Mr Hughes? What’s he in here for?’
‘Murder. I’m afraid Eric Hughes is a man with a very violent background. He killed a man during an aggravated burglary eight years ago – one of a series of similar crimes that left a further two people seriously injured.’
‘When’s he due for his parole hearing?’ asked Tina, unable to quite hide the cynicism in her voice.
‘The minimum tariff for Mr Hughes set by the judge was eighteen years, so it’ll be another decade at least before he can be considered for release. He may have a violent past but his behaviour since he’s been at Westmoor has generally been very good prior to the incident on Monday.’
‘I’m going to need to speak with him while I’m here.’
‘As I said, he’s already been interviewed by the local CID, and he refused to cooperate.’
‘Maybe I can sweet-talk him into admitting something,’ said Tina with a slight smile.
‘Maybe you can. I’ll see what I can arrange,’ Goodman answered tightly, as if it was an inconvenience.
Tina was used to certain people taking an instant dislike to her – it was the kind of thing that happened when you’d attracted the sort of headlines she had – but she was a little surprised by the cold reception she was getting here. She’d expected more from a man running one of the country’s toughest prisons. ‘Thank you, I’d appreciate that. As for Mr Garrett, I understand he wants to cooperate with the inquiry into the Stanhope attacks.’
‘Yes. He made contact with one of the prison officers this morning, after he saw footage of the bomb in London on the news. He said that he knew who’d done it, but refused to talk to anyone other than you.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘Do you have any idea why that might be?’
Tina shook her head. ‘No. I’ve had no contact with him whatsoever. I’m not even working on the inquiry. At least I wasn’t until an hour ago.’
‘I’m just hoping that he’s not going to attempt to’ – Goodman paused, clearly looking for the right word – ‘manipulate you.’
‘I’m not easily manipulated, Mr Goodman. Tell me, does Mr Garrett sound genuinely interested in cooperating?’
Goodman thought about this for a moment. ‘I think the altercation he was involved in scared him. It shocked all of us. Both men were very lucky not to have been more seriously injured.’ He paused. ‘But Mr Garrett worries me. He’s quiet, he’s controlled, and he’s well behaved and polite to the staff. In that sense, he’s been a model prisoner – at least up until this latest incident. But there’s also no sense that he’s remotely concerned with the gravity of the crimes he’s committed. I’m a great believer in the power of rehabilitation, Miss Boyd, something which I know isn’t a particularly fashionable view among a lot of people in this country. But I believe we could gain a great deal from the Scandinavian model of treating prisoners as individuals who’ve made poor life choices, rather than as amoral monsters who need to be locked up for as long as possible. However, I believe Mr Garrett might be an exception to that rule. I very much doubt that he can be rehabilitated. I’ve spent enough time with him, and the psychiatrists who’ve interviewed him, to know he feels no real remorse for what he’s done. Given that it’s likely he personally killed at least five people, and was responsible for the deaths of many times that number, that makes him extremely dangerous. Coupled with that, he’s highly intelligent. Whether you’re easily manipulated or not, I’d bear this in mind when you’re dealing with him.’
‘Thank you, sir, I will.’
‘We’ve prepared an interview room in the Central Section for your meeting. He should be there by now, so if you’ve got no further questions, I’ll have you escorted down there.’
‘I think you’ve answered everything for me,’ said Tina, getting to her feet.
‘I must admit,’ said the governor as they shook hands a second time, ‘I’m surprised that he asked to see you here, and alone too. It seems odd to me, given your own involvement in the Stanhope siege.’
Tina swallowed her continuing irritation at the way she was being talked to. ‘It was my involvement that helped bring the siege to a successful conclusion, Mr Goodman.’
‘Surely over seventy dead civilians can’t be judged to be a successful conclusion.’
‘It can when you have five hundred hostages and a building wired up to be blown to smithereens. And whatever you or Mr Garrett may think, I’m good at my job.’
Goodman raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘In my opinion, your methods leave a great deal to be desired, Miss Boyd, so I’d request that when in my prison you work according to my rules.’
Tina held his gaze for a long second, sorely tempted to kick him in the nuts, or at the very least come up with a rude rejoinder, but in the end she thought better of it. ‘Of course, sir.’
The guard who escorted Tina to the prison’s Central Section was the same one who’d taken her to the governor’s office. His name was Thomson, and he looked like he’d been doing the job for years.
‘Did the governor give you his talk on rehabilitation?’ he asked as they walked.
Tina gave a derisive grunt. ‘He said a few words on the subject.’
‘He’s big on rehabilitation,’ Thomson said. ‘He says it’s the whole purpose of the job – that there’s good in everyone, even if in some cases it’s very well hidden. But he spends most of the time in his office, and he doesn’t see what we see.’
‘And what do you see?’
‘I see hundreds of bad men. Every day of my life. Men who wouldn’t think twice about cutting your throat, or raping your daughter. Or even your son. And do you know what the worst part of it is, Miss Boyd?’
Tina looked at him. ‘What?’
‘The public think we run this place. They think the governor an
d the guards run every prison.’ He frowned. ‘But we don’t. We don’t run any of them. The prisoners do. Right now, the only way we keep order is by treating this lot with kid gloves, and cutting them slack. The minute they decide they don’t want to take orders from us any more, they won’t. It’s as simple as that.’
‘I can believe it.’
‘Maybe if you were running the shop rather than the governor, things would be a bit different.’ He let slip a small smile to let her know he was joking.
Tina laughed. ‘I’m not patient enough, and I can’t stand being nice to people who don’t deserve it.’
‘You wouldn’t last long here then. This place is a tinderbox, Miss Boyd. And when it goes up, there’ll be nothing any of us can do about it. I think about that every day I’m here.’
Beyond the corridor walls, Tina could hear the faint sound of cell doors clanking and the staccato shouts of prisoners. The air felt hot and artificial, with an unpleasant undercurrent of cleaning products, reminding her of a hospital. The guard’s words unnerved her, even though she’d heard the same thing from different sources plenty of times. It was always disconcerting to know that however hard you fought, the war against the bad guys was ultimately unwinnable.
‘The whole country’s a tinderbox, Officer Thomson,’ she said. ‘The riots in 2011 showed that. We’ve just got to make sure we do our bit and keep blowing out the matches.’ She decided to change the subject. ‘This attack on Garrett by Eric Hughes. Do you think it was spontaneous, or planned?’
‘It’s difficult to tell. Hughes is a nasty piece of work – they both are – but there was no history of conflict between the two of them. The men in here are some of the most dangerous in the country, and they’re living in unnatural conditions, so their behaviour can get unpredictable.’
‘What about the camera? I heard it was tampered with.’
‘It was broken, but we’re not sure it was deliberate.’
‘Do you know how long it was broken for?’
Thomson shrugged. ‘Things like that are meant to be fixed straight away for health and safety reasons, but we’re like everyone else. Short of money and short of staff. So it could have been a while.’
‘Would the prisoners have known the camera was out of order? I mean, it would explain why Hughes attacked Garrett where he did.’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ he answered, but Tina’s antennae picked up something in his voice that made her think he might be lying. She filed it away for future reference.
They stopped at a set of heavy double doors and Thomson used a card to swipe them through. He nodded at a guard on the other side, who unlocked another set of doors, and then they were into the maximum-security section of the prison. It was far quieter in here, and the smell of cleaning fluids stronger, making Tina feel slightly nauseous.
Thomson turned to her as they walked down a windowless tunnel illuminated with garish strip lighting. ‘Be careful of our Mr Garrett. He might be polite and quiet, but I wouldn’t trust him an inch.’
‘Don’t worry, Officer Thomson. I can look after myself.’
‘So I’ve heard, Miss Boyd. So I’ve heard.’
They stopped outside a door where two more prison officers stood guard.
‘He’ll be handcuffed for the duration of your interview, and there’s a panic button in case he tries anything. Press it and we’ll intervene immediately.’
Tina smiled. ‘Thanks, but I’m sure he won’t do anything stupid. He knows there’s no way out of here.’
Officer Thomson nodded. ‘Exactly,’ he said, opening the reinforced door. ‘Right now, he’s got nothing to lose.’
Thirteen
10.58
WILLIAM GARRETT, THE man the media knew as Fox, was possibly the most dangerous prisoner in the UK out of a population of close to a hundred thousand. Although it was another three months before his trial was due to start, and the reporting of his alleged crimes had been kept to a minimum so as not to prejudice any future proceedings, the prosecution case against him was as close to watertight as you were ever going to get. Positively identified by witnesses, and caught at the scene of the crime with traces of blood and gunshot residue on his person, as well as a phone which he’d just used to send a message to a fellow conspirator, it was well known that he’d been one of the lead terrorists involved in the Stanhope siege. There were numerous reports of him killing hostages without compunction or conscience, and he’d been fully prepared to blow up the building along with hundreds of people inside it.
And yet the man sitting on the other side of the desk holding a mug of lukewarm tea between cuffed hands didn’t look much like a ruthless terrorist to Tina. He looked more like a washed-out PE teacher who’d been in an accident. He was of medium height and medium build, with neatly cut, short sandy hair, and pale, almost translucent skin, which was probably the result of spending too many months behind bars. The signs of the attack on him were obvious. The top of his head was bandaged, and he had dressing running up his right forearm from wrist to elbow. There were also several minor defensive wounds on both hands, one containing a few stitches. His face was on the thin, almost gaunt, side, as if he exercised too much or had stopped enjoying his food, but the wide, clearly genuine smile he gave Tina as she entered the room suggested he remained in good spirits. Only the calculating expression in his narrow grey eyes suggested something darker.
‘Thanks for coming,’ he said in a confident voice that carried the faintest of West Country burrs. ‘I’d shake your hand but it’s not very easy with these on.’
‘I’m sure I’ll get over it,’ replied Tina, taking a seat opposite him and making a point of not looking at the red panic alarm button just beneath the lip of the desk. She didn’t want him thinking he intimidated her.
‘I heard you got reinstated in the Met. How did you manage that?’
Tina leaned forward in her seat, meeting his gaze. ‘We’re not here to discuss my career, Mr Garrett. You told the governor you had information regarding the people involved in the Stanhope siege.’
He looked down at the pockmarked table, then back at her. ‘Do you know why I asked to see you specifically?’
‘No. I’ve got to say I’m surprised. I’m not even working on the Stanhope case.’
‘The reason is I trust you. And I also think you can get things done. Most people do what they’re told, fill in the forms they’re meant to fill in, and let their bosses make the big decisions. That’s why this country’s in such a parlous state. Nobody likes taking responsibility any more. If it had been any other copper sitting where you are today, things would move slowly. With you, I think we might be able to get somewhere.’
Tina resisted telling him that as a DC in a mid-sized CID department, she really wasn’t in that powerful a position. ‘I’ll do what I can,’ she said.
He nodded slowly. ‘I know you will. I hear there’s a team still investigating the events at the Stanhope. I’m assuming they briefed you before you came here.’
‘I’ve had some background,’ said Tina noncommittally.
‘How are they getting on? I haven’t seen news of any arrests.’
‘I can’t discuss ongoing enquiries with you, Mr Garrett.’
‘And I bet the bombs this morning gave them something of a shock.’
‘Bombs?’
‘Don’t tell me I’m better informed than you are.’ He smiled, showing teeth. ‘There were two more bombs about half an hour ago. I saw it on TV in my cell while I was waiting for you. The police were about to raid a flat of someone involved in the first bomb when there were two separate explosions. It looks like it was a trap.’
Tina resisted asking him for more details. She’d been blindsided by this information. She was annoyed that Mike Bolt hadn’t phoned her straight away, and surprised that the governor hadn’t known either. Or maybe he had, and the bastard had just chosen not to tell her. ‘The bomb, or bombs, this morning are a CTC matter,’ she told him.
; ‘It all looked very sophisticated. That’s what they kept saying on the news. And I’m willing to place a very big bet that the people behind it are the same ones who planned the Stanhope siege.’ He looked round the empty, windowless room. ‘Is this being recorded?’
‘Right now, anything you say is off the record. You have my word on it.’
He put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on the backs of his cuffed hands. He was watching her very carefully. ‘If, hypothetically speaking of course, I was to provide you with information that helped you, how would I benefit?’
‘It depends what the information is.’
‘The names of the people behind the Stanhope siege and today’s attack.’
Tina kept her expression neutral. She was surprised by his confidence that the people he was talking about were responsible for both attacks. He’d been behind bars for fifteen months, after all. ‘I’ll be straight with you,’ she said. ‘You’re never going to walk free. Not after what you’ve done. You know the evidence against you is massive, and that your chances of acquittal are almost nil, no matter what kind of representation you have. Which means you’re going to be convicted of premeditated mass murder with zero extenuating circumstances.’ She paused. ‘But there are different ways of doing the time.’
‘I need to know there’s a release date.’
Tina shook her head. ‘I can’t promise you that. There’d be a public outcry if you were let out after what you’ve done.’
Fox seemed to think about this before nodding slowly, as if accepting the inevitable. He dropped his hands and leaned across the desk again, his face coming too close to Tina’s for comfort. ‘I expect you’re wondering how I know that the people behind the Stanhope siege are responsible for today.’
Ultimatum Page 6
