‘Never borrow and never lend. Rule one. Especially if you don’t have permission. When all you have in the world is twenty things, suddenly those twenty things take on a whole new importance. Jason took something of importance to someone. He’s going to get a kicking and you probably shouldn’t be there when it happens.’
‘Shouldn’t you tell the guards?’
‘Rule two: don’t tell the guards anything. Not many people in here get treated worse than a grass.’
‘Gotcha.’
‘If you see something happening then leave, that’s my advice,’ Sol said. ‘It’s hard but in here you have to look out for yourself. That’s what everyone else is doing.’
Gabriel stared into the cottage pie on his tray. The mashed potato was white and shiny, with beads of liquid on the surface as though it had been sweating. It was watery and soft. There was an orange tinge to the mince that looked both unnatural and unappetising. He scooped some of the mixture onto his spoon; it was mushy but also unwilling to separate as he pulled the spoon away. The mashed potato hung like mucus as he moved it towards his lips. He was so hungry, he put the food in his mouth; it was warm but not hot. He tried to imagine each mouthful as though it were something else entirely, which got more difficult as it got colder. It sank to the bottom of his stomach like sand. Without warning, Gabriel gagged and the horrible potato decided to come back out; he rushed to the bin in the corner of the servery and threw up. He heard laughter and looked up to see the men on the table opposite were watching him. One of them was the young ginger man. His eyes were burning into Gabriel. Suddenly, he wasn’t hungry anymore.
Roll call.
Gabriel walked back to his cell and stood in position outside the door. Jason was nowhere to be seen.
‘Cole!’ the prison officer said for the fourth time, this time looking up in Gabriel’s direction. Gabriel’s discomfort was magnified as three other screws walked briskly towards him. Everyone was looking. Gabriel felt the colour draining from his face. He tried to look tall, not vulnerable. He tilted his chin back and stood up straight, shoulders back. It was the kind of stance he would have used in a club as he surveyed the room, everyone trying to look more badass than anyone else.
Gabriel looked at the names of the officers. Marcus Hyde, Kyle Johnson and Steve Barratt.
‘Where’s Jason?’ Barratt asked.
‘I don’t know.’ Gabriel answered. Eighty-two words.
‘You don’t know? When was the last time you saw him?’ Hyde barked at him, just inches away from Gabriel’s face. Gabriel was taller and it felt strange having this smaller man shouting at him. He hated having to ignore it, to take the anger. It went against everything he was. He wasn’t violent, but he was proud. Although he had no reason to be proud anymore.
‘In the cell. Before dinner.’
‘We’re going to need a little more information than that,’ Hyde pushed.
‘When I woke up I went to dinner, he wasn’t there when I left or when I came back.’
‘Is that true?’ Barratt stepped in, clearly playing good cop to Hyde’s aggression.
‘I swear.’
‘Lockdown!’ Hyde shouted, his voice reverberating through the wing. The prisoners groaned and moved back into their cells. From what Gabriel could tell, this seemed like something that happened quite often.
Hyde left the room and Barratt seemed to be waiting until he was out of earshot before he spoke to Gabriel again.
‘If you had nothing to do with this I suggest you keep your nose out of it,’ Barratt whispered.
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean Jason upset the wrong people and those people are not going to get caught.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’
‘Because you’re new. We see a lot of the same faces in here over and over again. I’ve never seen you before so I guess that means maybe you aren’t such a bad guy. Keep your nose clean and your time in here will go a lot faster.’
‘Keep my nose clean how?’
‘Just don’t get mixed up with the wrong people. Keep yourself to yourself. Use your nous.’
‘What’s happened to Jason?’
‘We’ll probably find him pretty soon, beaten up if we’re lucky, dead if we’re not.’
‘If you’re lucky?’
‘You cannot imagine the bureaucratic nightmare of finding a dead inmate.’ He walked to the door and pulled it closed with a final warning before he locked it. ‘Keep your head down.’
Barratt left. Gabriel walked over to the door and looked out of the strip of vertical glass to see what was going on. There was a distinct lack of panic on the wing. Everything was routine. Everyone sat patiently in their rooms, the prison officers checking each cell individually before closing it and locking the occupants in. It was barely 7 p.m. and they were done for the night.
Gabriel was torn between relief that he was alone and a concern that something terrible had happened to his cellmate. He watched as two officers ran past his door; they had obviously found something. He saw nothing except the faces of his fellow inmates, pressed up against the glass of their own doors, also trying to find out what was going on. Resignedly, Gabriel took a book from on top of Jason’s cupboard. He had a feeling his cellmate wouldn’t be needing it tonight.
Chapter 5 (#ulink_9d9e231e-598b-599c-9921-f314314fb855)
Adrian was watching DI Fraser speaking to their new DCI. Jonathan Fraser seemed visibly relieved at the fact that he was no longer acting DCI, as he was better suited to taking orders than giving them, and everyone knew it, himself included. DCI Mira Kapoor was a completely new face, brought in to battle the ongoing allegations of corruption within Exeter Police. She was a PR wet dream for the district with her exemplary record and connections in the press. Fraser signalled for Adrian to come over.
‘DI Fraser speaks very highly of you,’ DCI Kapoor said as she shook Adrian’s hand.
‘Ma’am.’
‘Looking forward to working with you, DS Miles,’ she said as she let go of his hand.
‘Thank you.’
‘DS Miles is investigating the fire down at the signal box four nights ago,’ Fraser said. ‘They’re trying to identify the body.’
‘Any luck?’
‘No missing persons, we asked around the homeless community.’ Adrian sighed. ‘If someone is missing, no one has noticed yet. As you can imagine, it’s proving very difficult.’
‘What do the forensics say?’
‘No DNA, it seems the floor collapsed onto the burning body and the damage sustained to both the skull and the rest of the body means we can’t get a match on dental records either. We really don’t have much to go on.’
‘Well, keep going. We’re being watched.’ She bowed slightly and nodded towards the desk sergeant, Denise Ferguson, who was standing next to Adrian’s desk, pointing him out to a young woman with a pea-green satchel who was standing next to her. ‘Excuse me.’
Both Adrian and Fraser watched DCI Kapoor walk away. Adrian couldn’t help wondering if she was on the level; he had learned the hard way that power and corruption go hand in hand. She was from outside the county which was a promising start. He was at least a little hopeful that she wasn’t being controlled by Dominic, who seemed to have his hands on everybody’s strings.
‘She seems nice?’ Fraser said, his voice getting higher at the end. A hint of optimism in the form of a question, as though it were more of a request than a statement. At least Adrian wasn’t the only one who was concerned.
Adrian rolled his eyes and headed back towards his desk. He knew better than to be optimistic, anything could happen and he wasn’t about to put his trust in anyone just yet. Not after everything they had been through; he would be an idiot if he did.
Denise Ferguson smiled as he approached, as did the woman with the green bag. But hers wasn’t a friendly smile, it was a knowing smile and it immediately made him suspicious.
‘The DCI has asked that you take care of this young lady, Adrian. She’s a freelance journalist doing a piece on the dangers posed to the escalating numbers of homeless people in Exeter. Wants to know about the identification of the man in the fire.’