Vigilante (9 page)

‘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-feet-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.’

TEN

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. His 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 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?’

The man in the suit stopped speaking as McKenna raised his own voice to talk over him. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at?’

‘Really? You can’t possibly imagine what I might be asking about?’

‘No.’

‘Well, how about this little scenario. Let’s say, for instance, that there’s a particular person in charge of a certain set of other people. Now that person in charge is generally a perfectly good man, maybe he’s got a long history of honesty. But maybe, just maybe, there’s someone in that certain group he’s supposed to be looking after that isn’t as honest. Maybe he’s a bit of a thug, a bit of a bully. He does things like hold shotguns up to innocent people just going about their business…’

It felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped by a degree or two. There was absolute silence except for Jessica’s voice, as if the other three people present had held their breath and were hanging on what she might say next.

‘Now let’s say, just for instance, that the previously honest person in charge was swayed by the other man. Maybe there was some sort of incentive involved? Perhaps some money on offer? Maybe it was more of a stick than a carrot? Perhaps there were threats instead? Promises that loved ones would be harmed? It could be a mixture. Are you still with me, Donald? Now in that hypothetical situation – and bear in mind it is completely fictional – can you perhaps see what I
might
be getting at?’

The prisoner said nothing but looked sideways to his solicitor. Taking the hint, the man in the suit spoke, his voice faltering slightly. ‘I think we should end the interview at this point, Sergeant Daniel.’

For the third time that morning, Jessica deliberately switched track. She pushed backwards on the chair, scraping it along the ground. She stood and spoke in her most upbeat voice. ‘Good idea.’

She knocked on the door and guards came in to escort McKenna and his solicitor away.

When they had left, Rowlands stopped the recording and picked up the folders from the table. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘That was good.’

Jessica gave him a small smile. ‘He’s still got us though. We have nothing to go on.’

‘Yeah, but you got him rattled.’