Hard Landing

by Stephen Leather

  'Bastard judges.'

  Carpenter shook his head. 'Don't blame the judges. All they're doing is following the rules. It's like blaming the referee because your team lost. The way I look at it, it's your own fault for getting caught. And the cops' fault for catching you.'

  'Yeah, that's the truth,' said Shepherd. 'If I ever found out who grassed me up, I'll kill them.'

  Carpenter flashed him a sidelong look. 'You were grassed?'

  'Must have been,' said Shepherd. 'Everything was sweetness and light and then suddenly the cops are everywhere. Armed cops, too, so they knew we were tooled up.'

  'Any idea who set you up?'

  'I was the new guy on the team. Could have been anybody. I'll find out, though. If it takes me for ever, I'll have the bastard.'

  'Won't get you out of here any faster.'

  'So what's your plan, then?'

  Carpenter tapped the side of his nose. 'Need to know,' he said.

  'And I don't,' Shepherd said. 'Right.'

  The prisoners were escorted into a waiting area. There was a door at the far end where two male officers searched them, then handed each a yellow sash and ushered them through the door. Shepherd and Carpenter joined the queue.

  The search was far more thorough than it was for going into the exercise yard. Every inch of Shepherd's front, back and sides was patted down, and he had to open his mouth and stick out his tongue, then flick his ears forward to show he had nothing concealed there. The officer made Shepherd run his hands through his hair, then handed him a bright yellow sash.

  'Going cycling, are we?' Shepherd asked, and grinned over his shoulder at Carpenter. 'See this, Gerry? I'm off for a bike ride with the wife.'

  The unsmiling prison officer nodded at Shepherd to go in. The visiting room was huge, the size of a tennis court. There was a balcony above the door from where an officer with a bored expression looked down on the rows of chairs and tables. There were already more than a hundred visitors, some sitting, some standing, waiting for their loved ones. Most were women and almost half had children with them. The tables were lined up in five rows, A to E, and each had four plastic chairs round it. The chairs could be moved but the tables were screwed to the floor.

  A young red-headed woman, with a small baby strapped to her chest, was jumping up and down and waving. Her husband, who seemed barely out of his teens in a prison-issue tracksuit, waved back, then went over to a raised desk where a female officer checked his name against a list. Shepherd went over to her and gave her his name and number. 'I'm supposed to have a private visit,' he said.

  She ran her pen down her computer printout. 'Room five,' she said, and pointed to the far end of the room.

  As Shepherd walked between the tables he saw CCTV cameras in the four corners of the room. They were moving, focusing on individual tables, watching silently as husbands embraced wives, fathers cuddled small children and kissed babies. Several men were crying unashamedly, tears streaming down their faces as they held their wives.

  Three officers were walking among the tables, their faces impassive as they watched the prisoners take their places. If they saw a man getting too passionate they'd tap his shoulder and tell him to sit down. The prisoners had to sit on the right-hand side of the table, the visitors on the left.

  In one corner of the room a booth sold soft drinks and sweets, and there was a play area for young children, minded by a couple of cheery middle-aged women.

  The door to room five was open and Sue was already sitting at the table, Liam saw Shepherd first and ran towards him, arms outstretched. 'Daddy, Daddy!' he shouted.

  Shepherd picked him up and squeezed him. 'Hiya, kid,' he said, and kissed him.

  'When are you coming home, Daddy?' asked Liam.

  Shepherd kissed him again. 'Soon,' he said.

  'Today?'

  'No, not today, but soon.'

  He put Liam down and held out his arms for Sue. She smiled, but he could see how tense she was. He held her and she slipped her arms round his waist. 'God, I've missed you,' he said.

  'It's your choice, being here,' she said, and he heard resentment in her voice.

  'I'm sorry,' he said.

  'I didn't realise how horrible it was.'

  'It's prison,' he said, trying to smile. 'What did you think it'd be like?'

  'You hear stories, don't you, about them being like holiday camps?'

  'That's open prisons,' said Shepherd.

  'What's this, then?'

  'Category A. It's high security.'

  'But you haven't had a trial or anything. What happened to innocent until proven guilty?'

  'It's the system, love,' said Shepherd.

  'Why are you in prison, Daddy?' asked Liam. 'Were you bad?'

  Shepherd knelt down and put a hand on his son's shoulder. 'I've not been bad, Liam, but you mustn't tell anybody about Daddy being here.'

  'It's a secret?'

  'That's right.'

  'I won't tell, Daddy.'

  Shepherd ruffled his hair. 'Good boy.' Sue took a colouring book and some crayons out of her bag, put them on the table and Liam sat down with them. Shepherd stood up. 'Thanks for coming,' he said to his wife. 'Did Sam Hargrove bring you?'

  'He sent a driver. He's waiting for us outside. How long is this going to take, Dan? How long are you going to be in here?'

  The room had a glass window so that prison officers could see inside, but no one seemed to be taking an interest in Shepherd.

  'A few weeks, maybe.'

  'Isn't it dangerous?' she whispered, not wanting Liam to hear. She sat down at the table. She was wearing her ten-year-old sheepskin jacket, the one she always wore when they went out walking, faded blue jeans and scuffed boots. Prison casual. But she'd taken care with her makeup and was wearing her long blonde hair loose, the way he liked it.

  Shepherd shook his head. 'It's a remand wing,' he said. 'Everyone's on their best behaviour because they want to getout.'Hewouldn'ttell herabouthisrun-inwithNeedles. Or about breaking Jurczak's leg.

  'Some of the women waiting to come in were saying that there was a suicide last week.'

  'Not on the remand wing, love,' said Shepherd.

  'What's it like?' Sue asked.

  'Boring, most of the time.'

  'Do you have a cell of your own?'

  Shepherd smiled. 'I wish. But it's got a television.'

  'You're joking!'

  'It's no big deal,' said Shepherd. 'Keeps the inmates quiet.'

  'And are there fights and things?'

  Shepherd laughed. 'Of course not. It's not like the movies. We don't hang out in a yard having knife fights. We only get to exercise for forty-five minutes a day and we're searched every time we go in and out.'

  He sat down opposite her and they watched Liam colour a pirate ship, his brow furrowed in concentration.

  Sue frowned. 'Where did you get that watch?'

  Shepherd glanced at the flashy Rolex. 'Hargrove.'

  'It's horrible.'

  'I know. It's part of the cover.' He showed her the thick gold chain round his neck. 'This too.'

  'You look like a . . . I don't know what you look like.'

  'It's not for long.'

  'You owe me for this, Dan Shepherd. You owe me big-time.'

  'I know.'

  'I miss you.'

  'I miss you, too.'

  'I mean it, Dan. They're not just words.' Her eyes moved to Liam. 'He's not sleeping either.'

  'This is important, love.'

  'It's always important, though, isn't it? It's always the big one. The guy who's got to be put away. And then, once he's gone, there's another. And another.'

  'That's why it's important. If they're allowed to get away with it, what sort of world would it be?'

  'But it's always you, isn't it? It's always you taking risks. First with the Regiment and now with Hargrove and his have-a-go heroes.' She leaned across the table. Shepherd could see that she was close to tears. 'You're an addict, Dan. That's what it is
. You're an adrenaline junkie.'

  A prison visiting room wasn't the place for a discussion about his career, or his psyche, Shepherd knew. And he didn't want to argue with her, especially not in front of Liam. There was another reason, too: in his heart of hearts he knew she was right.

  Shepherd ruffled Liam's hair. 'You okay, kid?'

  Liam nodded.

  'We'll go fishing, when I come home.' He turned back to his wife. 'Your mum and dad okay?'

  'They're fine.'

  'You haven't told them . . .'

  'Give me some credit, Dan. How long have I been a policeman's wife?' She sighed, then answered her own question. 'Too long.'

  'Do you want anything? A drink? Biscuits?'

  'No, thanks.'

  'I'm going to have to ask you to do something,' said Shepherd.

  'I don't like the sound of that.'

  'The reason we got the private visit is because everyone thinks you want to divorce me.'

  Liam's jaw dropped. 'You and Mummy are getting divorced?'

  'Oh, God, no!' said Shepherd. He picked up his son and cuddled him. 'It's just a joke. Like a play at school. Pretending.'

  Liam frowned. 'You're pretending to get a divorce?'

  'That's right.'

  'But you're still coming home, aren't you?'

  Shepherd kissed him. 'Of course.'

  'What's going on, Dan?'

  Shepherd put his son down in front of the colouring book and waited until the boy was absorbed again before he answered. 'Carpenter's outside.'

  'The man you're after?'

  Shepherd nodded. 'He's got a visit from his wife.'

  'So?'

  'So if you and I fake an argument, it gives me a chance to get closer to him.'

  'How?'

  Shepherd could see she wasn't happy with the idea, but it was too good an opportunity to miss. He leaned across the table and took her hands in his. 'If he sees us argue, it gives credence to my legend. My cover story,' he whispered. 'If you go out cursing me, I can start spilling my guts to Carpenter. Husband to husband.'

  'And what about . . .?' whispered Sue, gesturing at Liam.

  'We'll say it's a play,' he said.

  'I like plays,' said Liam.

  Shepherd tapped the colouring book. 'You've missed a bit,' he said.

  'I can't believe you want to use us like this.'

  'I'm not using you,' said Shepherd, but even as the words left his mouth he knew it was a lie.

  'Isn't it bad enough, you being away like this?'

  'The sooner I get what we need, the sooner I'll be back home.' An officer walked by the window, picking his nose. 'Please, just do this one thing for me.'

  'But it's not one thing, is it? It's always like this. Out all night, whispered phone calls when you're home, you coming back battered and bruised. Now you're dragging me and Liam into it.'

  Shepherd sat back in his chair and sighed. She was right. 'I'm sorry,' he said.

  'Did you know he'd be having a visit today?'

  'No,' said Shepherd.

  'So it's just a coincidence that you've both got visitors at the same time?'

  'Absolutely.' As soon as the word left his mouth, Shepherd wondered if it was the truth. Hargrove had fixed up Sue and Liam's visit to Shelton. Had he known that Carpenter's wife was due today? Hargrove knew that Shepherd was having a compassionate visit in a private room so he wasn't putting Sue and Liam at risk, but he had given Shepherd the chance to get closer to Carpenter.

  'He's got children?'

  'Three. Boy and two girls.'

  'Why would a family man do what he does? Doesn't he know the damage drugs do?'

  'He knows, he just doesn't care.'

  'But everything he has, everything his family has, is based on the misery of others.'

  'I don't think guys like him give it a second thought,' Shepherd told her. 'When you talk to them, they regard drugs as just another commodity. It's like they're running an import-export business. They buy product, move it from place to place and make a profit on each deal.'

  'So he's no conscience? No sense of right and wrong?'

  'If you talk to guys like him, they usually say they're no different from cigarette companies. They say that nicotine is addictive, and that cigarettes kill far more people than any class-A drug.'

  'They should just legalise everything and have done with it.'

  Shepherd grinned. 'Yeah, but what would I do then?'

  'Spend some time with your family, for a start,' said Sue. She reached across the table and stroked his cheek. 'You should be at home. With us.'

  'Soon,' said Shepherd. 'I promise.' He pressed her hand to his cheek.

  'What do you want me to do?' she asked.

  Shepherd took her hand and kissed it. 'Are you sure?'

  'If it gets you out of this hell-hole quicker, I can hardly say no, can I?'

  'Thanks, love.'

  'You haven't told me what you want me to do yet.'

  'I need Carpenter to think we're on the rocks,' Shepherd said. 'You can storm out and through the visitors' room. Curse me something rotten. Tell me you'll set your solicitor on me.'

  'Oh, Dan! I can't.'

  'I'll know you won't be serious.' Shepherd ruffled his son's hair. 'What about you, Liam? Do you want to play a game?'

  'What game?'

  'When you go Mummy's going to shout at me. We'll say goodbye and then when we open the door Mummy's going to pretend she's angry with me.'

  'And she'll be acting?'

  'That's right. Like in a play. Is that okay?'

  'Sure.'

  'Chip off the old block, isn't he?' said Sue, but Shepherd could tell she didn't think it was a particularly good thing.

  'You're definitely putting on weight,' said Bonnie playfully. She was sitting with Carpenter in row E, close to the wall. She had been to the canteen, run by volunteers from the Women's Voluntary Service, and got them Diet Coke and KitKats.

  'I told you, it's the food in here,' said Carpenter, 'and I'm lucky if I get to the gym four times a week.'

  'You said they let you use it every day.'

  'Yeah, but if they don't have enough staff they don't open it. And the screws here are forever taking sickies. One of the perks of the job.'

  Bonnie patted his stomach. 'Sit-ups,' she said. 'You don't need a gym to do sit-ups.'

  Carpenter laughed. 'Soon as I'm out you can put me on a diet,' he said. He pushed the two KitKats towards her. 'These won't help.'

  'You think I'm joking?'

  'Honey, I'll be so glad to be out I'll eat anything you give me.' He sipped his Diet Coke. At the table next to him a West Indian prisoner was cuddling a baby, smothering its tiny face with kisses. His right hand slid inside the child's nappy. A couple of seconds later he coughed and he used the same hand to cover his mouth. It had been done so subtly that Carpenter doubted that any of the officers would have seen the drugs transferred even if they'd been watching. Carpenter looked up at the CCTV cameras. None was pointing in the West Indian's direction. The baby started to cry and he handed it back to the mother.

  'I wish you'd let the kids come and see you,' said Bonnie.

  Carpenter shook his head firmly. 'No way. I'm not letting them see me in here.'

  'They're not stupid, Gerry. They know what's going on.'

  'It's one thing to know I'm in prison, it's quite another to see me in here.' He flicked his yellow sash. 'Wearing this thing, sitting at a table that's screwed to the floor, goons in uniforms watching every move we make. I don't want them seeing that.'

  'What if they sentence you?' asked Bonnie. 'What if you get sent away for fifteen years? Does that mean you won't see them for fifteen years?'

  'That won't happen,' said Carpenter flatly.

  'It might.'

  'Trust me,' said Carpenter.

  'What are you up to, Gerry?'

  'You don't want to know.'

  'Yes, I do.'

  'No, Bonnie. Because if I tell you what I'm doing
you become an accessory and there's no way I want you in the firing line.' He reached over and held her hand. 'It's bad enough there's one of us behind bars.'

  'Bloody cops,' said Bonnie. 'If they'd played fair this would never have happened.'

  'They're worse than the criminals,' laughed Carpenter. 'Don't worry, love, it's being sorted. I promise.'

  They heard a commotion at the far end of the room and turned to see what was happening. A blonde woman with a small boy in tow had thrown open the door to one of the closed-visit rooms. 'I hate you!' she shouted. 'I hope I never see you again, ever! You can rot in here for all I care!' She stormed towards the exit, dragging the child after her.

  Carpenter saw Macdonald rush to the doorway and call after his wife, but she ignored him. Macdonald cursed and kicked the door. A guard walked over and told him to calm down. Macdonald put his hands in the air. 'Okay, okay,' he said.

  'Who's that?' asked Bonnie.

  'New guy,' said Carpenter. 'Bob Macdonald. He's in for armed robbery. That was his wife just walked out on him. She wants a divorce.'

  'I know how she feels.' She reached over and took his hand. 'Joke,' she said.

  'It better had be a joke,' he said.

  'They say it's harder for the families than it is for the men in prison,' said Bonnie. 'And they're right.'

  'That's why most wives walk away, if it's a long sentence. "Stand by your man" just doesn't come into it.'

  'Don't think you're going to get away from me that easy,' said Bonnie. 'Till death do us part, remember.'

  She looked into his eyes and he could see that she meant it. But Carpenter knew that if he was locked up for fifteen years her fierce intensity would gradually die away. Eventually visits to him would become a chore, and no matter how much she loved him now there'd come a time when she wanted, or needed, a warm body beside her at night. She'd get a new husband, the kids would have a new father. And Carpenter would join the ranks of the sad old lags with no lives on the outside to look forward to. He shivered. No way was he going to allow them to keep him inside. 'I'd wait for you, too, if you were in prison,' he said, and laughed.

  There were still five minutes to go before visiting time was over and Carpenter and his wife chatted about their children. From time to time Carpenter looked across at Macdonald, who was leaning against the wall with his arms folded, glaring at anyone who made eye-contact with him. The prisoners weren't allowed to leave until all the visitors had gone, so Macdonald had to stay where he was until the end. Carpenter sympathised with the man, having to stand there after his wife had hurled abuse at him in front of everybody.