‘For God’s sake, man, prepare an injection,’ the Chief shouted above Titas’ roars. ‘As soon as he’s down I need you to give him a sedative. A fast acting one. Preferably something akin to a horse tranquiliser.’
‘Yes, Chief, of course.’
Fox almost bowed and scraped at Chief Robinson’s feet, stopping himself just in time. He didn’t need telling what to do. It was about time people started taking him seriously as a medical professional who knew what he was doing, he riled to himself. Then again, looking at Titas, he could understand the Chief’s anger. Fox guessed he’d been too determined to treat the man as a human being, as though he’d been a patient at an NHS hospital. Imagining that Titas was someone who knew how to behave in front of a doctor. He had wanted Titas to recognise him as someone who wanted to help and try and understand him. And it had all gone wrong. Horribly wrong. He should have known better.
He stuffed his hands into the white doctor’s coat that he wore over mucky-brown corduroy trousers and a checked shirt. He walked on rubber soled suede desert boots, over to the small room that contained the medical supplies and selected a key from the large ring attached by a chain to his leather belt. That was something else that he couldn’t get used to; all the key stuff, unlocking and locking of doors as he walked around the prison.
‘Quickly, man!’ he heard the Chief call to his back as he fumbled for the lock. The shouting just made him more nervous, of course, as he walked into the small room and selected yet another key to the cabinet that held the barbiturates.
The uproar from Titas could still be heard, following Fox and taunting him with his failure. Geoff selected a couple of bottles and grabbed a syringe with shaking hands, relocking the cabinet and then moving out of the room to lock the door behind him.
He was walking back to the Chief when the man’s radio crackled. It was the control room.
‘Teacher down in the education block, Chief,’ Fox heard the remote voice say.
‘Teacher? Down?’
‘Affirmative, Chief. Personal alarm activated. I’m sending in riot officers.’
The Chief and Fox looked at each other.
‘Now look what you’ve done,’ snarled the Chief, his distaste for Fox clear in every syllable of every word. With one last hard stare that had spent a lifetime subduing army recruits, the Chief turned on his heels and left the wing.
Fox looked around him, picked up an overturned chair and sat on it, his legs no longer capable of supporting him. He’d allowed an incident to occur in the hospital, depleting the number of officers available on the wings. And now there was another problem in education, meaning more officers were needed there. The prison resources would be severely stretched and it was his fault. He quaked at the thought of what the governor was going to say. He was already in the man’s bad books and this would only make his position even less tenable.
Fox looked down at the medication still in his hands and then back at the riot officers still surrounding Titas. How the hell was he supposed to get an injection into a raging bull? He hadn’t been prepared for all this violence. There should have been a training course or something to give him strategies for coping in situations like this.
‘Doctor! For God’s sake man, hurry up!’ someone shouted to him, the man’s voice muffled by the visor.
Resigned to the chaos he’d created, Fox stood and walked over to a trolley, to prepare the injection for Titas, hoping that he wouldn’t get knocked out in the process of trying to get the needle into the man’s buttocks.
Chapter 8
Mrs Greenwood looked up at Aiden, whose hands were now as red as Mr Walker’s shirt. ‘It’s no use,’ she said. ‘He’s lost too much blood. I thought we’d got him back then, but he’s stopped breathing again. There’s no pulse and I can’t get his heart to start this time. You can let go of the tee-shirt now,’ she said gently.
Aiden looked at her wordlessly and then back down at his teacher’s body. He couldn’t seem to get his head around what had happened. One minute his teacher had been alive, telling them what they were to do that lesson and the next, well…
His thoughts were interrupted by Memphis Colby appearing in the doorway. ‘Mrs Greenwood,’ he called. ‘Come with me.’
‘What? Why?’ she spluttered. ‘I’m waiting for the officers. I can’t leave Mr Walker.’
Memphis walked up to her and grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet. ‘You can wait for them in the staff room, along with the other teachers.’
‘What’s going on?’ she continued to question Memphis as he guided her, none too gently, towards the staff room, located near the entrance door into the block. Aiden was glad she hadn’t decided to stand her ground and confront Memphis. He knew Mrs Greenwood could be imperious when she wanted to be, but she was a fair teacher, who could give as good as she got when the situation demanded it. Aiden had heard her berating students who’d thought it would be a good idea to disrespect her. Giving them a taste of their own medicine by copying their own foul language seemed to work and opened their eyes to what they’d been saying to her.
Aiden followed on behind Mrs Greenwood, wondering what was going on himself, but he wasn’t about to stop Memphis and ask him. Memphis dragged Mrs Greenwood along behind him until they reached the staff room. Aiden could see the other teachers in there, consternation written all over their faces. Two of Memphis’ followers were guarding the door. At a nod from their leader they moved away and opened the door so that Mrs Greenwood could enter, closing the door and quickly moving back to block the opening once she was inside.
Aiden had a quick look in the other classrooms, all of which were empty of teachers and students. Clutches of boys stood around the central area of the block, clearly wondering what was going to happen next. Some were excited, talking quickly and looking around, laughing and joking with their mates. Others shrank into corners, their fear of Memphis and his cronies evident as they were trying to make themselves invisible.
Feeling the eyes of the crowd on him, Aiden realised that he was still bare chested and that he had Mr Walker’s blood all over his hands. Looking at the blood made him feel sick and he retched, running over to the toilets and just about making it, before he emptied his stomach of his breakfast. Shaking and sweating, he flushed the toilet and stumbled over to the wash basins and tried his best to get rid of the blood on his hands. But the soap in the dispensers wasn’t of the best quality, and without a nail brush Aiden couldn’t get rid of the blood ingrained in his palms and stuck under his fingernails, no matter how many times he tried to wash it away. Shaking his hands dry, he remembered that there were some plain white tee-shirts in the Art Room that were left over from a lesson on printing and Aiden went to get one.
He stopped in the doorway, his eyes drawn to the body of Mr Walker. Now the adrenaline had drained from him he found the sight of the dead body even more disturbing. He cautiously edged his way around the room, staying as far away from the body as possible. He reached the cardboard box he’d been looking for and grabbed the first tee-shirt his hand fell on. Hoping it was the right size, but unwilling to stay in the room for another second, he turned on his heels and sprinted out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
Leaning against the wall, he pulled on the tee-shirt with fumbling fingers. It was a bit big, but what the hell, at least he didn’t look out of place anymore. Stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweat pants he walked towards the entrance to the block, hoping to find out when the officers were coming to get Mr Walker. And then it hit him. Memphis was in control of the block, which meant that anything could, and probably would, happen.
Chapter 9
When the first alarm sounded, Emma had called the control room. Upon being told the problem was in the hospital and that the Chief was on his way, Emma shook her head and smiled at the thought of Geoff Fox losing control of the hospital wing already, replaced the handset and bent over her reports. But she found she couldn’t really concentrate. She pulled the fi
le on Titas Arendall from a pile on her desk and opened it. Reading through the young man’s problems, she wasn’t surprised that he’d kicked off at the first opportunity since arriving. She would have to talk to him at some point about education, perhaps literacy and numeracy courses, but starting any education was a few weeks down the line. He would first have to be observed and tested for a couple of weeks to monitor his behaviour and medication. He clearly hadn’t taken the move kindly and she smiled again at the thought of Geoff Fox losing control within an hour of Titas’ arrival.
She was just about to pull the next file forward when the alarm sounded yet again. Her immediate thought was that officers needed extra help in the hospital, but just to be sure she once more called control.
‘Problem in the education block, Miss,’ the officer told her. ‘No details as of yet, but the Chief is on his way there now.’
‘Christ,’ she said aloud, pushing her files into her desk drawer and locking it with a key from her belt.
As the Assistant Governor for Inmate Welfare with a special interest in education, she felt it her duty to go and try and help. She knew most of the lads on the education program personally, even if it was just for a regular meeting on their progress. She hurried as fast as she could, going through the exhausting routine of unlocking and then locking gates behind her. Her worry, of course, was that there were two emergencies in two different blocks at the same time. She could only hope no bright spark had decided to take advantage of the depleted number of officers left on the wings.
Finally arriving at education, she took a couple of deep breaths and smoothed down her hair, determined not to appear flustered, but full of the control she didn’t quite feel inside.
‘Chief,’ she said as she arrived at the double doors to the block, only to find her way barred.
A number of boys were forming a human chain against the entrance and she could see that desks were already being dragged out of a classroom towards the main doors. Stood next to the Chief was an officer, hand to his face, nursing a black eye.
‘He just came barrelling through the doors, boss,’ the man said to Chief Robinson. ‘Punched me in the face, he did. Then he grabbed my radio and popped back inside. Like a bloody rabbit he was, on a raid from his hole.’
Emma had to suppress a giggle at the man’s description, especially when she looked at the Chief’s face. Chief Robinson opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again when his radio crackled.
All three looked through the glass doors to see a very large, muscled, shaven-headed inmate looking at them and holding up a radio in one hand.
‘Who’s that?’ hissed Emma.
‘Memphis Colby,’ the officer whispered back. ‘In other words, trouble.’
‘Yes, Memphis,’ the Chief said into his radio, his voice calm and controlled.
‘Got a bit of a situation here,’ the inmate said. ‘Seems Mr Walker is dead.’
Emma swayed on her feet as the blood drained from her head. She felt as though she’d stood up too quickly and struggled to regain coherent thought. That was not good. Not good at all. In fact it was the last thing she’d been expecting Colby to say.
‘Very well,’ said the Chief in an even voice, and Emma marvelled at his self-control. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen now,’ Chief Robinson continued. ‘You must give up the killer. It’s in all your interests.’
‘Really? And why is that, Chief?’
‘Because if you don’t, everyone in the block will be charged with murder under the Joint Enterprise rule. I’m sure you know all about that, Memphis.’
The inmate nodded through the glass. ‘Yep, I do, Chief, but the thing is you’re not going to pin that on us. If you try….’ Colby let the silence stretch. ‘Let’s just say we have ways of making the prison service pay. Those old computers would be the first to go, I reckon. It’s about time the lads got newer models, not some crappy cast-offs from the local college. Then, of course, there’s the kitchen. There are lots of knives in the kitchen, Chief. I’m sure it wouldn’t take us long to get to them, if we wanted to make a concerted effort, that is.’
The Chief didn’t flinch at Colby’s words and threat of rioting. His face didn’t register any of the emotions Emma was feeling. Fear and horror were sitting in the pit of her stomach and they didn’t make good bedfellows. She felt quite sick at the thought of what could happen if this turned into a full scale riot. Looking again at the Chief, Emma was reminded of Billy. In her mind she caught just a flash of his face as it had been at times during the long-ago hijack, when he had been in full soldier mode. Focused, driven, in control. She was glad that the Chief, an ex-military man, was on their side.
‘If you want us to be reasonable about it,’ said the Chief, who was still seemingly unflustered, ‘then you must hand the lad over that killed Mr Walker.’
‘I can see you’d want that, Chief,’ replied Colby. ‘But, see, we have a problem there. I don’t know who killed him. And, surprise, surprise, no-one’s owning up. So it’s down to you to find out who it was.’
‘How in the hell?’ Emma blurted.
‘Miss Harrison, shut up,’ the Chief hissed at her, cutting her off. ‘Let me deal with this. Memphis,’ the Chief turned back to Colby, ‘let me see what I can arrange. The Reading Police are on their way and I’ll talk to them as soon as they arrive.’
‘Why are the police coming?’
‘Because it’s standard procedure, son, you know that. Anything that happens in here results in a visit from the police. Doesn’t matter what it is, drugs, violence, murder...’
‘Nah. No police.’
‘Why ever not? You want the killer found. I want the killer found. The local police are the obvious solution.’
‘Not to us,’ Colby indicated the lads barricaded in the block with him. ‘None of us trust the coppers. They’ll stitch us up. You’ll have to find another way.’
‘What other way?’
‘I dunno. That’s down to you,’ and Colby turned his back on them and walked away, melting into the crowd.
Chapter 10
The entrance to the education block consisted of a set of gates, then a corridor leading to the double half-glass doors that opened inwards, into the large open area that was the middle of the block. It was the corridor that was becoming rather crowded. Apart from Chief Robinson and Emma, officers in full riot gear had arrived and were being sent back down the corridor, so as to be out of sight of the inmates in the block. Chief Robinson didn’t want anyone over-reacting and going on the rampage, especially a prisoner high on some illicit substance or other. Members of DI Briggs’ team had also just arrived. The Thames Valley policeman himself wasn’t yet there, having been called to the prison on his day off. He was on his way in a police car, as his wife and children needed their vehicle to get home from a now ruined family day out. By all accounts he wasn’t in the best of moods.
Adding to this soup of authority, Governor Sharp appeared and immediately confronted Chief Robinson. Over her months in the prison Emma had seen Governor Sharp on the warpath before, but perhaps not quite as angry as he clearly was this time.
Standing with his legs slightly open, fists clenched at his side and eyes boring into his Chief’s he shouted, ‘What the fuck is going on, Chief?’
Emma’s eyes widened. She’d never before heard the governor swear and took a couple of steps away from the two men. Chief Robinson ignored the expletive and succinctly outlined the problem to his boss. But it didn’t placate the governor, who constantly fiddled with his jet black hair, silk tie and Armani suit jacket.
‘And you’re doing what about it?’ he said. Having lowered his voice, he was now hissing, a deranged snake about to strike.
‘Waiting for DI Briggs, sir,’ answered the chief.
‘And what the hell do you expect him to do?’ the governor’s voice rose again. ‘You’ve just told me that the lads have already said that they won’t tolerate any police.’
‘I’m hoping he m
ay have a solution to the problem,’ replied the chief, standing rigidly to attention, as though his unbent body would give him greater gravitas.
‘Hope? Hope? Is that the best you can bloody do? Jesus.’
Emma had had enough. She and the chief may not have seen eye to eye at times, but there was no need for the governor to give the man a public tongue lashing.
‘I agree with the chief, sir,’ she said, taking the two steps forward again. ‘I’m sure DI Briggs will be far more experienced than we are at dealing with this type of situation.’
Governor Sharp swung around at the sound of her voice and regarded her with moderate distaste. But she carried on regardless. ‘He’s been a policeman for many years and has been a valuable partner with HMYOI Reading in the past,’ she said. ‘If you remember he was instrumental in the operation to catch the rogue prison officer a couple of months ago.’
‘I remember it very well, thank you, Miss Harrison. And I don’t need reminding about past cock-ups in this prison. But seeing as you deem it relevant to butt into my private conversation with the chief here, I’m happy for you to work with him and bring this chaotic situation to a satisfactory conclusion.’
‘But, sir…’
‘But, Miss Harrison?’ the governor sneered. ‘You are Assistant Governor for Inmate Welfare, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Excellent, then that lot in there,’ he flung his arm towards the barricaded doors, ‘Require you to look after their welfare. Do I make myself clear?’
‘Yes, sir,’ Emma said, putting her hands in the pockets of her dark blue trousers, looking at the ground and biting the inside of her cheek to stop herself uttering a sarcastic comment. She knew from past experience that the governor would next start on about the reputation of the prison. Counting the seconds in her head, she only got as far as number three before the governor spoke again.
Joint Judgement (An Emma Harrison Mystery Book 3) Page 3