Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Locked In / Vigilante / The Woman in Black"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 60 страниц)

9

Adam went on to reiterate that things would need to be confirmed. They were going to request a new swab from Donald McKenna in prison. He added that nothing was final and that samples could degrade over time. McKenna’s initial swabs could have been contaminated or could have simply not been stored correctly. They had been on file since he was sent to prison for the armed robbery four years earlier. Nothing would be official until new saliva was taken and then re-tested against everything they had. He said his boss would pass on the first results to someone at the station officially the next morning but request a media blackout until a full re-analysis was done. It was a bit late to stop the release of the murder victims’ names but it would look bad for everyone if it was all linked back to a contaminated sample.

He drifted off into scientific speak she didn’t really understand and then said it was going to take days but Jessica wasn’t really listening. She knew it would all come back to confirm what she felt sure she knew; Donald McKenna had somehow been involved with the murder of three people.

She decided to rest on things that night. Adam had trusted her with information she technically shouldn’t have yet and there didn’t seem too much point in passing it on considering it would be phoned through the next morning anyway, albeit with the proviso that the testers wanted new samples.

The following day, there was definitely a different atmosphere in the station. Big crimes always created a buzz and, although Craig Millar’s killing hadn’t got people going, Jessica knew as soon as she walked in that news had broken about the latest DNA results. She didn’t let on that she already knew as the desk sergeant directed her upstairs for a meeting with Farraday.

As soon as she started to walk past the windows of his office, she could see Cole already sitting inside chatting with their boss. She knocked as a courtesy but was waved straight in and took a seat next to Cole on the opposite side of the desk from Farraday. ‘Daniel,’ the DCI said to acknowledge her.

‘Sir.’ The chief inspector proceeded to tell her everything she had already been told by Adam the previous evening. She nodded along in all the right places. If Cole suspected she already knew the details, he said nothing.

The DCI finished by summing up where he saw everything standing. ‘Daniel, I’m moving you up to take lead on this. I know it should really fall to Cole but so far it’s only three arseholes we’re better off without. There are other jobs to do around here. Take whoever you want to the prison today but then we’ll have to wait until the Bradford Park lot have done their jobs. If any more bodies show up, we might have to look again. All right?’

‘What are we telling the media, Sir?’ Jessica asked.

‘Not much. The press office stuck out the victims’ names yesterday. Do I think they’ll put the pieces together and link it to the other killing? Not unless someone gives the game away. It’s not as if they’re the sharpest bunch of knives in the drawer, is it?’

Jessica grimaced at the question he had asked himself but wanted to laugh at his dig about the local reporters. With her last big case a journalist named Garry Ashford who worked for the Manchester Morning Herald had actually helped her figure out what was going on, albeit not directly. Still, she liked the description and would tell him the next time she saw him.

‘What exactly do you want me to do at the prison, Sir?’ She wouldn’t normally have asked but, with them in limbo waiting for further test results, there was only so far they could push things.

‘Talk to the governor, check McKenna’s cell, put the shits up them all – that kind of thing. Talk to the wardens, one of them might be bent. Do I think someone there must know more than they’re letting on? Maybe.’

It hadn’t crossed Jessica’s mind that someone who worked on the wings could have helped McKenna in some way. It still seemed far-fetched but it was something she would bear in mind now that Farraday had mentioned it. A warden or someone in a similar position would certainly have more chance at getting blood or hairs from the prisoner than someone on the outside if they wanted to frame him. If they were working together, it would be easier, although still difficult in technical terms. It didn’t get her any closer to coming up with a motive.

The three of them held the morning briefing in the main incident room in the basement of the Longsight station. It essentially consisted of them telling everyone what had been decided in the office. The chief inspector reminded them all of their responsibilities to not leak any details to the papers. Jessica made sure she caught Rowlands’s eye. She hadn’t been able to prove it at the time but she was as sure as she could be that he had been giving information to Garry Ashford at the time of Randall Anderson’s killing spree. It wasn’t malicious and had drastically enhanced one of his friend’s careers but it still shouldn’t have happened. Neither he nor the journalist had ever owned up to it but the reporter’s knowledge of the police force’s inner workings had certainly stopped appearing in the local paper since Jessica had challenged them. Rowlands wasn’t keen to make eye contact and looked away.

After the briefing was finished, she motioned him over to one side. ‘Fancy a trip to the prison?’

‘You know how to show a guy a good time, don’t you? Hospital one day, prison the next. Are we off to the cemetery tomorrow?’

‘Are you seriously giving out dating advice?’

Rowlands winked at her. ‘Word around the station is that you might be looking for some.’

Jessica didn’t think Cole was the type to gossip and doubted it was him who had said anything about Adam but news travelled pretty quickly around a police station, especially if it involved officers’ private lives.

She thought about asking how Rowlands knew but didn’t think it really mattered. ‘Why? Are you jealous?’

‘Nah, you’re a bit old for me.’

Jessica snorted. ‘Only if you’re talking about mental ages.’

On arrival at the prison, they had been greeted by another member of front-office staff who was slightly unnerving. The people who worked there had obviously been given some sort of briefing regarding the police visit and the man was keen to ask questions and try to show how efficient he was. Jessica did her best to ignore him as Rowlands pulled out his phone and had what was almost certainly a fake conversation. Jessica thought she would remember that trick for next time.

If it was a phoney talk, he didn’t have to pretend for too long. They had called to confirm they were visiting after putting off their trip the day before and the governor had been pretty quick to meet them in the reception area. After the usual security checks, he took them through into the main arrivals yard. He told them the large concreted area was where the security vans first arrived. Inmates were either taken back to their blocks if they were already prisoners, or moved into a separate processing office if they were new arrivals.

The governor was outwardly far friendlier on their second visit but his tone definitely seemed forced and a tad over-enthusiastic. He talked them through the areas that had been rebuilt and showed them where the old parts of the establishment had been before the riots. He led them off to an area where he said executions used to take place. Jessica knew the basics but was surprised when he told them the last hangings took place in the 1960s. She wouldn’t have guessed it was quite so recent.

He took them into the main prison area and pointed out the various wings. He mentioned a famous rock star and told them how he had spent six weeks in the prison a few years previously. He offered to show them the cell but Jessica decided that would be a step too far. The pleasantries were at least interesting but they were there on business. If the governor was annoyed at having his impromptu tour interrupted, then he didn’t react, instead walking them through to the wing McKenna was kept on.

It was essentially a wide and long hallway, with cells that went up three storeys high. There was a big gap between the two sides with a couple of pool tables interspersed with a few other chairs in the middle of the hard grey floor. Jessica had been into a few prisons but rarely into the area where prisoners were actually housed. In terms of the actual cells, there wasn’t much sign of the stereotypical vertical bars most people would picture. The main gates in and out of the wings themselves were barred across and needed to be unlocked but the actual cell doors were thick, heavy and made of metal. It wasn’t as grim as she might have guessed but certainly wasn’t as bright and new as the visiting areas always appeared.

‘Everyone gets to spend twelve hours out of their cell between eight and eight,’ the governor explained. ‘There’s a games area towards the bottom of the wing with more pool tables and so on. What we’ve done is move them all down there just for while you’re here. It was a bit cramped so some of them are outside in the rec area. It will give you free access to walk into the cells. You do have to understand that the property they have in their rooms is their own, though. Some get very, er, funny about things being moved.’

Jessica understood. People in pretty much any situation would be annoyed by someone else shuffling their possessions around. In prison, those items would be much more valued simply because the inmates had so little.

The governor continued to speak as he walked them further on to the seemingly deserted wing. ‘If you do want to talk to anyone else, it can be arranged. I’m not sure everyone would want to talk to the authorities but I doubt many would mind that much. Mr McKenna is in a cell next to the interview room and ready whenever you are.’

He was certainly going out of his way to accommodate them. The governor led them off to one side of the hall towards one of the cells. The rooms already had their doors all open. Rowlands asked why. ‘Between eight in the morning and eight at night, doors have to be kept open. If someone is feeling ill or wants to sleep or something like that they can go to the medical area. It’s for everyone’s safety really. Say an incident did happen, the guards wouldn’t be able to see anything or know something was wrong if the doors were closed.’

‘What about after eight?’ Jessica asked.

‘The main lights stay on for about an hour and then are off until around seven the next morning. They can have small lamps in their cells if they want to read and pretty much everyone has a TV in the room. Ultimately we can’t watch them twenty-four hours a day. It’s extremely rare anything happens. Most of the rooms have two people in them and there’s a degree of matching to try to ensure people get along. There’s a separate wing for vulnerable prisoners but genuinely most people just want to do their time.’

‘When I was here a few days ago, Donald McKenna said he had a cell to himself,’ Jessica said.

‘That’s true. A lot of it comes down to how crowded we are. Sometimes every cell has two people in it and we have to use places like the vulnerable wing just to get everyone in. Either that or release inmates who don’t have much left on their sentence. At the moment, we’re not quite at capacity so there are some prisoners who get a cell to themselves.’

‘How is that decided?’ Rowlands asked.

‘Each wing has a senior warden. There’s no way I can oversee everyone all the time but everyone reports back to me. I leave decisions like that up to them. It should come down to behaviour and things like that. Sometimes it just falls to the more senior prisoners though. A lot of it works itself out.’

Given Farraday’s suggestion that someone on the wing might have some sort of involvement, that last part stuck out to Jessica. Ending up in a cell by himself could well indicate some sort of preferential treatment. It was still a far cry from that to either helping McKenna get out of the prison or aiding him to carry out murders but it was something to bear in mind.

The governor pointed them to one of the open doors. ‘It’s that one there. Feel free to take your time. I’ll wait here if you have anything to ask.’

Jessica entered the cell as Rowlands waited by the door. There wasn’t an awful lot of space for the two of them to fit inside. There was a bunk bed immediately on her left and the room was only a little longer than the bed itself. On the opposite wall from the bed was a desk that ran most of the length of the wall. On it was a small portable TV, a Bible and some battered paperbacks. At the end was a small sink with a mirror and some toiletries above it. Opposite the sink, at the end of the bed and only just fitting into the space between the bed and the wall, was a metal toilet. She figured it was certainly made for a man; there was no toilet seat, just four raised pieces of plastic.

At the end of the thin aisle that separated the bed from the table, there was a solid-looking window at the top of the facing wall. The glass was misty and impossible to see out of and there were bars in front of it. It had only taken her a few seconds to look at the whole place. ‘Anything?’ asked Rowlands from the door.

‘You can pretty much see everything I can, Dave.’

She felt stupid for doing it but tried wobbling the four bars that blocked the window. They didn’t budge. She looked under the bed, where there was a pair of dark trainers but nothing else. She pushed and tapped the walls, almost as if she was surveying the place. She didn’t know what she was looking for. It’s not as though she expected there to be a gaping hole in the wall with ‘tunnel’ written over the top but she hadn’t expected something so cramped either.

Jessica tried moving the toilet and the sink, just to see if they were loose from the wall but, aside from a slightly wobbly pipe under the sink, the actual units didn’t shift at all.

Eventually after checking everything a second time, she went back to the doorway and Rowlands moved aside to let her out. ‘You wanna have a look?’ she asked.

‘Not much point really, is there? As you said, I could pretty much see it all anyway.’

‘Have you ever been here before?’

‘We had this training day thing but not in the cells, no.’

‘What do you reckon?’

‘I’d feel sorry for someone sharing with me. After I’ve been to the toilet, you would definitely need more space than that to air it out.’

Jessica pulled a face at him. ‘It’s times like this when I wonder why you’re single.’

‘Through choice.’

‘Yeah, theirs.’

The two of them walked back towards the governor. ‘Did you see everything you needed to?’ he asked.

‘Not much to see, was there?’ Jessica replied. ‘Let’s just say, for instance, that you could get out of that cell. Where would you end up?’

For just a moment, the governor grinned condescendingly at her and then quickly reverted back to his regular expression. Jessica knew he was about to talk down to her in the least patronising way he could manage, while secretly revelling in the moment.

‘Well, let’s say you removed the bars over the window without a screwdriver, even though they are screwed into the solid stone wall and have been painted over. If you got those off and got through the window, which is five times as thick as regular glass and completely shatter-proof, you would still only end up on a patch of land that sits between two of the wings. You would actually be outside of the standard walkways, which would mean you would have to scale an eighteen-foot-high security fence with a roll of barbed wire at the top. Once you had managed that, you would still only be back on the permitted paths.’

Jessica could feel Rowlands shuffling from foot to foot next to her as the governor continued. ‘Once you got to that path, assuming the patrols didn’t see you, or the security cameras, either direction would simply lead you back to the main gates but only through two sets of double-locking doors whichever way you went. Because of that, you would have to scale another eighteen-foot-high fence on the other side of the path which would get you into the rec yard. You could get across the yard easily enough, though there are spotlights, but on the other side are a few more wire fences. The first one is hardened steel which encloses the area, then there is one outside that is eighteen feet high again and similar to the others. If you could get through all of that, you would be at the wall. That’s twenty-four feet high and a yard thick, plus coated with an anti-vandal substance to prevent climbing. If you somehow got to the top of that and avoided being seen by the rooftop security, you could drop down the other side but it actually works out at a drop of around twenty-five feet, eight yards or so. Assuming you landed okay, I guess you’d be scot-free . . .’

He let the statement hang in the air and clearly didn’t need to add anything more.

‘Could you tunnel out?’ Rowlands asked. Jessica was glad he had said it instead of her. The question sounded ridiculous.

‘Well, I guess if you had something to dig with but even then it’s around seventy yards in the straightest line from here to the wall. I don’t know where you would get rid of all the dirt or how you would get out on the other side though.’

He had certainly made his point. Jessica then asked the question she had been worrying about. The governor had been perfectly nice, despite the undertone to his words, but she couldn’t judge how he would react next. ‘Can you trust all of your staff, Governor Gallagher?’

He was certainly taken aback by her directness. ‘Sorry?’

Jessica repeated her question word for word. The man’s eyes narrowed as he thought how he should respond. ‘I’m not sure I like your tone . . .’

‘I’m not sure I’ve liked yours either.’

For the first time that day both of them were being upfront with each other. Jessica wasn’t going to be the one who gave way first.

‘Your super left me his number, you know?’

‘I didn’t ask you about that.’

Governor Gallagher stared at her, his eyes thin as he struggled to control his anger. ‘I trust my staff.’

‘All of them?’

‘All of them.’

As quickly as the mood had deteriorated, Jessica raised it by chirpily changing the subject. ‘Right, that’s good then. I think it’s time to see Mr McKenna.’

10

Jessica didn’t really know why she had tried so hard to wind the governor up. She could have asked nicely or apologised but pointed out it was something she had to ask about. She could even have just left it. Not only had she asked the question and pushed the issue, however, she’d really enjoyed it. Perhaps it was because of the delight he had taken in pointing out how hard it would be to escape or maybe it was because she simply wanted to see what his reaction would be? You could learn a lot about people from how they responded to direct accusations. Some people would shout and swear to try to show they were innocent. Others would evade the question. Some might start to sweat and stumble over their words. Governor Gallagher had not done any of that; he had just seethed with rage. Was that because he was that protective over his staff, or because of something else? Jessica wasn’t sure but his reaction had been interesting.

On the way back off the wing, he took them through to a security booth which contained a bank of monitors linked to the cameras that seemingly watched the whole prison. It was perhaps one final way of showing them how ridiculous they were being. There were a few men and one woman in a small group towards the back of the room as they entered. They all had the same uniform on: dark shoes, dark trousers and a white shirt. Jessica could see each one also had heavy-looking bunches of keys attached to their waist. The governor signalled for one of the men to come over. He looked like the oldest of the group, somewhere in his fifties or so, Jessica would have guessed. He had wisps of hair around the tops of his ears and a few strands combed across his head but was mostly bald. His face had a reddish tinge which, from experience, Jessica knew was most likely the sign of a heavy drinker.

‘Detectives, this is Senior Warden Lee Morgan. He is in charge of the wing you have just been on. I figured it was best if you spoke to him, if only for completeness.’ The governor put special emphasis on that final word, as if to indicate they should finish whatever they were trying to because he would do his best to make life difficult for them if they wanted to come back.

Jessica introduced herself and DC Rowlands and they all shook hands. The warden talked them through his role and made a point of saying how much experience he had. He spewed out a few statistics to show how behaviour had improved on the wing since his promotion and then showed them the monitors for his area.

He talked a good game at least but Jessica felt she had already got into the governor’s bad books that morning so might as well go for the double. She nodded and made approving noises throughout his talk but, as soon as he looked up to her for approval, she put the only question she thought worth asking. ‘Why does Donald McKenna have a cell to himself?’

The warden spluttered slightly and started to repeat something along the lines of what the governor had told them relating to capacities but Jessica cut him straight off. ‘I understand that, Mr Morgan, but I’m talking specifically about Mr McKenna. Why does he have a cell to himself?’

‘Er, well, Mr McKenna has consistently been one of the best-behaved inmates. Some of the other prisoners look up to him because of his religious beliefs and clean living, while others just respect his seniority.’

‘Are there other people who have been here longer?’ Jessica asked.

‘Well . . . yes.’

‘Are there other inmates who are religious?’

‘Yeah . . .’

‘Are most people well behaved?’

‘Yes, of course.’

Jessica nodded slowly and let out a long, deliberate ‘Hmm’. She let it hang and then, for the second time in a few minutes, drastically altered her tone.

In an upbeat, breezy voice she turned back to the governor who was hovering nearby. ‘So, let’s go see Mr McKenna.’

Governor Gallagher took the hint and started walking towards the door with the clear indication they should follow. Rowlands moved in behind him, with Jessica at the back. She was just about to exit the viewing area when Lee Morgan called after her. ‘There’s, er, nothing improper, y’know . . .’

Jessica heard him perfectly well but didn’t even break stride.

The journey back through the prison to the interview room had been another silent affair. Jessica figured that if Farraday had been serious about her ‘putting the shits’ up the prison staff, he would be pretty pleased. She also wondered if the governor would follow through with his mention of calling DSI Aylesbury. Ultimately, she hadn’t outright accused anyone of doing anything untoward and if they chose to take her insinuations that way, it was up to them.

The governor led them up a flight of steps Jessica recognised and they were soon back by the interview room. He unlocked the door and let them in. ‘McKenna is next door,’ he said. ‘Assuming it’s okay with you, I’ll tell them to bring him through in five minutes. Everything you need should already be here.’

Jessica had a quick look over the recording banks and nodded. ‘Thanks very much for your assistance, Governor Gallagher. You’ve been enormously helpful.’

The governor clearly had little intention of keeping up the pretence of being civil any longer, grunting and walking backwards out of the room.

‘He was very ingratiating,’ Rowlands said after the room had cleared. Jessica simply looked at him. ‘What?’ he added.

‘I am going to get to the bottom of where all these long words are coming from because I know – and you know – that you’re simply not intelligent enough to know them off the top of your head.’

The two officers readied the room and a few moments later heard some clanging noises from the corridor. Just afterwards, the door opened again and Jessica felt a twinge of déjà vu as the same suited solicitor from a few days ago entered with a handcuffed Donald McKenna just behind him. They each seemed to be wearing the exact same clothing as from their previous meeting and sat in the same places. If it wasn’t for Rowlands being present instead of Cole, it would have been almost an exact rerun of the setup from their first interview.

Jessica got the introductions out of the way and then asked her colleague for the set of two folders he had carried around all morning. From the first one, she took out a photo of Craig Millar. It was an enlarged copy of his regular mug shot, the most recent picture they had of him alive. She slid the photo face up across the table towards Donald McKenna.

‘Do you know who this man is, Mr McKenna?’

He picked up the photo with his cuffed hands, studying it with a quizzical look as if trying to remember something. His solicitor motioned to look at it and McKenna angled it towards him. ‘You asked me that before. I told you then – he sort of seems familiar but I can’t say I know him.’

He handed the picture back and Jessica put it in the folder, pulling out a second photograph. ‘What about this one?’ She slid the second item face down across the table and McKenna picked it up. He turned the picture over and rocked back slightly, handing it to the solicitor.

The man in the suit instantly put it back on the table face down. ‘Was that really necessary?’ he asked.

Jessica picked the photograph up and turned it over. It showed Craig Millar’s face close-up with a gaping, bloodied wound in his neck. ‘Do you recognise that one, Mr McKenna?’

The solicitor went to speak again but his client simply said, ‘No.’

Jessica nodded slightly and took the photo back, again returning it to the folder and removing two photos from the second cardboard document wallet. ‘What about this pair?’

This time, she held the photos up. They were two more mug shots: one Ben Webb, the other Des Hughes.

‘Benjamin and Desmond.’ McKenna’s response was instant. ‘They were both on the same block as myself.’

He took his gaze from the two photos to look directly at Jessica. She put the photos back down on the table and met his eyes. ‘Did you associate with them much?’

‘They weren’t interested in the word of God.’

‘That isn’t what I asked.’

‘No I did not.’

‘Do you know all three men are dead?’

‘I had been told. I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Really?’

‘We are all God’s children.’

‘Why was your blood found under the fingernails of Craig Millar?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Why were your hairs found at the scene where Benjamin Webb and Desmond Hughes were killed?’

‘I don’t know.’ Donald McKenna hadn’t taken his eyes from Jessica throughout the entire exchange. In their previous meeting she had felt unnerved by his willingness to engage. There was something slightly different about this encounter though. She wouldn’t have said she felt intimidated but there was definitely an undertone to his words and his eyes were mesmerising. They were deep and blue, looking straight through her. Jessica paused and the two of them gazed at each other.

The tension was broken by McKenna’s solicitor. ‘I would like to point out that my client has been cooperative throughout. This morning, for instance, he willingly submitted to a mouth swab despite not being charged with any further crime and having no legal reason to do so.’

Jessica didn’t want to break the stare-off with the prisoner but felt obliged to acknowledge the man’s legal representative. She looked directly at the suited man, who seemed to shrink under her stare. ‘I’m sure the post-office workers he threatened with a shotgun would be delighted to hear what a role model he has become.’

The solicitor motioned as if to answer but, as he had done on the previous visit, McKenna lifted his handcuffed wrists from the table as if to indicate he was fine. ‘I regret what I did,’ he said solemnly.

Jessica couldn’t figure out if he was being genuine or not. She met his eyes again. ‘Did you ever fall out with either Mr Webb or Mr Hughes?’

‘No.’

‘Have you ever fallen out with anyone at this prison?’

‘Not recently. In my younger days maybe but not for a while.’

The solicitor was clearly getting frustrated. ‘Detective, we’re going around in circles here. My client has clearly said he has not had any significant contact with any of the victims. There may be people who might wish him ill will because of his previous misdeeds but he cannot think of anyone specifically. What’s more, as if I have to remind you, my client is in prison. If you want to charge him with any crimes, then can I suggest you do so?’

Jessica shifted her gaze from McKenna and looked to his representative. ‘Did you rehearse that in bed last night?’

The solicitor shuffled back slightly in his seat and looked back at her with his mouth open. ‘Sorry?’

‘Was there some legal drama on TV last night that got you all excited? Got you thinking you could end up like some big-shot barrister?’

The man in the suit stared at her, clearly not knowing how he should respond. ‘Do you have any further questions to ask my client? If not, can we end this now?’

Jessica turned back to McKenna. She knew she didn’t have anywhere to go. The reason she was so annoyed with the solicitor was because he was right. There was no realistic way they could charge his client with anything as there was no chance of any kind of conviction, even if the new forensic samples came back with the same results. He was still their only lead though and was linked to the scenes not only through his DNA but because he had been inside with all three victims at the same time.

‘How is your relationship with Warden Morgan?’

For the first time, McKenna stopped looking at her. He glanced at the table, then Rowlands, then back to her. ‘He’s a fair man.’

‘Particularly fair to you though, isn’t he?’

McKenna’s solicitor went to interrupt but Jessica talked over the top of him, eyes fixed on the prisoner, daring him to look away again. ‘Nice room you’ve got there, perhaps a little small? It could maybe do with a bit of internal decoration and I have no idea what those Feng Shui-types would make of it but it’s not bad for this place, is it?’