Jailbird

by Caro Savage

  But then this one had claimed that she was an undercover police officer. And if that was true, then he had even more cause to be worried.

  Of course he knew about the well. He’d known about it for years. He’d learnt of its existence not long after he’d started working at the prison. The well had lain unused in the basement ever since the prison changed its means of water supply in the 1930s. Close inspection of the original blueprints of the prison revealed how it connected to the outside world and he had realised that it constituted a small but potentially serious chink in the prison’s security. He had thus made plans to get it sealed up completely.

  But then one day, in the gatehouse, one of the prison officers had been caught in a random bag check trying to smuggle drugs into the prison. To his surprise, it had been Terry, the union rep. The Governor had always detested Terry for the way he constantly criticised and undermined the Governor’s policies and he had relished the opportunity to finally destroy this thorn in his side.

  But a cunning notion had then occurred to the Governor. This situation presented a means by which he himself could fulfil plans of his own, plans which would otherwise only ever have remained dreams. So rather than turn Terry over to the police, the Governor had suggested a secret partnership. He had proposed it right here in this office. He would make the criminal allegations go away and he would permit Terry to continue smuggling drugs into the prison under the condition that half of all proceeds would go back to him. Terry had little choice but to agree to his offer. However, to ensure that he didn’t get caught again, the Governor had explained to him how he could use the well.

  Of course, so as nothing should seem amiss, they both kept up their antagonistic act of prison governor versus union rep. That way no one would ever suspect that they were in cahoots.

  The money had been rolling in for a while now, slowly filling up an offshore bank account. Soon he would have enough to retire and buy his yacht. Soon his dreams would come true. It had all been working so well.

  Up to now.

  Now everything had been thrown into jeopardy. His yacht. His knighthood. God forbid, even he himself could end up on the other side of the bars and that was not something he was even willing to consider. Can you imagine it? A prison governor, behind bars?

  And what about his family? His wife? His daughters? Their private schooling. The skiing holidays in Verbier. Their five-bedroom house. The neighbours. What the hell would the neighbours think? And the Home Secretary? My god, the Governor would never live it down! The Home Secretary would never talk to him again.

  He shuddered at the thought of it all. He poured himself another large shot of whisky and downed it in one.

  If it wasn’t already calamitous enough that this inmate knew all about the drug smuggling, she’d also managed to somehow tie it into these recent murders. Whether or not she was right about that, he didn’t know and he didn’t care. All he did know was that if any of this got out, he was well and truly fucked.

  Something had to be done about it.

  His hand was shaking again. He clenched it into a fist.

  He knew what to do. He knew exactly what needed to be done.

  103

  The bite of cold steel against her throat jerked her out of slumber. Bailey opened her eyes to see the dim outline of a figure standing over her in the darkness.

  ‘I could have shanked you while you slept,’ hissed Poppy.

  She sniffed back a sob and pressed the sharp edge of the knife harder into Bailey’s flesh.

  Bailey swallowed with difficulty and kept very, very still.

  ‘Now let’s not do anything silly,’ she whispered.

  ‘You betrayed me. You lied to me. You’re nothing but a worthless fucking cop!’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Don’t lie to me!’ Poppy pushed the blade in harder, the sharp, filed edge starting to cut into Bailey’s neck. ‘I said if you were lying to me, I would kill you. And I meant it.’

  A tear fell from Poppy’s cheek onto Bailey’s bare shoulder.

  Bailey tried to work out how Poppy had got into her locked cell in the middle of the night. She tried to work out how Poppy knew she was a cop. And that was when she realised just how high the corruption went.

  ‘The Governor,’ she gasped.

  Poppy sniffed angrily. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Bailey realised now that she had a choice to make. She could either continue to deny that she was a police officer, or she could break cover for the second time in as many days and try to explain everything. Either choice could prove to be fatal. She swallowed, feeling the bite of the blade at her throat, and took the plunge.

  ‘I’m here for a reason,’ she said in a slow and measured tone. ‘A very good reason.’

  ‘So you are a cop!’ Poppy’s voice went up an octave.

  ‘I was sent in to investigate the drugs, but now I’m here to stop the murders.’

  ‘I vouched for you. I saved your life.’ Another hot tear fell onto Bailey’s shoulder. ‘I can’t believe I trusted you and you turn out to be a pig after all.’

  ‘The Governor,’ whispered Bailey. ‘He’s the only person who knew I was a police officer. And that’s only because I told him yesterday. He’s in on the drugs racket. He must have told Terry, because it was Terry who let you in here, right? He’s waiting outside right now, isn’t he?’

  Poppy said nothing, breathing hard, biting the tears back.

  ‘The Governor needs to silence me,’ said Bailey. ‘And he’s using you to do his dirty work.’

  ‘Everything you told me… your crime… being an accountant… that was all just lies. You used me to get information. I feel so stupid.’

  ‘I didn’t lie to you about everything.’

  ‘The plans we made. They meant nothing to you.’

  ‘I was an accountant, before I joined the police. And when I said I’d help you, I meant it.’

  ‘I hate you. I should kill you now.’

  ‘So why don’t you?’

  Bailey could feel the vibrations of Poppy’s hand shaking with emotion as she held the shank to her neck.

  ‘You can’t do it, can you?’ whispered Bailey. ‘I know you, Poppy. You’re not some cold ruthless killer. It’s not what you are. You’re different from them. Just like you told me.’

  Poppy sniffed back a sob.

  ‘Help me,’ said Bailey. ‘I need your help. Right now you’re the only person who can help me. I know who the killer is and I can stop him. I tried to tell the Governor but it was no good. But now I’ve got a chance, if you help me. If I don’t stop him, then more of us will die.’

  ‘Us? You’re not one of us. And why do you care about us anyway?’

  ‘Because it’s my job. And he killed my friend and I want to catch him.’

  ‘Your friend?’

  ‘Her name was Alice. Alice Simms. That was her real name. She was the first one who was killed. In the laundry. Back in May. She was a policewoman too.’

  Poppy was silent for a few moments. Another tear fell onto Bailey’s shoulder.

  ‘They’ll kill me if I don’t kill you,’ she whispered.

  ‘Come with me,’ said Bailey. ‘I’ll take you out of here. Away from them. I can protect you. And I’ll help you, like I said I would. I’ll help you with your shop. I promise.’

  ‘Promises!’ spat Poppy. ‘A cop’s promises don’t mean anything!’

  Bailey reached up ever so gently, ever so slowly, and ran her fingers lightly along the smooth surface of Poppy’s arm. She could feel the muscles quivering with tension as Poppy held the knife against her throat.

  ‘There’s a special connection between us, Poppy,’ she said, softly stroking Poppy’s arm. ‘I knew it from the first time I met you. I knew it when I kissed you. And I know it now. And you know it too.’

  Poppy’s large eyes stared down at her, the green irises black in the dimness of the unlit cell. Bailey felt the pressure o
f the knife against her neck begin to falter.

  ‘There’s a way out of here,’ said Bailey.

  ‘There’s no way out of here,’ replied Poppy in a small voice. ‘Not for me. Not for you.’

  ‘There’s a disused well in the basement. That’s how the killer’s getting into the prison. It’s how Terry’s bringing the drugs in. It’s also how we can get out of here. Right now. Tonight. Come with me. My job here is done. I know all that I need to know. I’ll explain everything to you once we’re out of here.’

  Poppy was silent. Breathing hard. The pressure of the shank gradually eased off. After a while she spoke.

  ‘A disused well?’

  ‘I need to get out through the well and make contact with my boss. All we need to do is get down to the laundry because that’s where it is.’

  ‘You’ll help me with my shop?’

  ‘I promise. I told you I would and I meant it.’

  104

  Terry waited, tapping his foot impatiently, looking apprehensively up and down the darkened landing. It was half past two in the morning. All was silent. Just the rows of locked cells stretching away into the shadows.

  What the hell was taking her so long?

  Surely it was a case of just sticking the knife between her ribs and that was that.

  Fucking copper. Served her right. The sooner she was out of the picture, the better. The last thing he needed right now was some interfering policewoman jeopardising his illicit revenue stream. He had considerable gambling debts to pay off and the loan sharks were pretty unforgiving when it came to late payments. That’s how he’d got mixed up in this whole affair in the first place – to subsidise his gambling habit: the horses, the dogs, a bit of poker, a bit of blackjack, in fact just about anything that you could place a bet on he did. He blamed his wife, to be honest. If she’d have just stopped bloody nagging him about his spending, he’d probably never have got involved in any of this.

  Anyway, here he was and he had a job to get done. The policewoman had to die.

  Of course, it went without saying that the main reason she had to die was because if he got caught he knew that a spell behind bars for an ex-screw would be an exceedingly unpleasant experience. He felt sick with fear at the very thought of it.

  He shook off the nausea and peered around anxiously. He eyed the CCTV camera situated by the stairwell at the end of the landing. He wasn’t too worried about that though. He knew that no-one was watching them. That was because he was the one who was supposed to be manning the control room tonight.

  ‘Hey!’

  He spun around. It was Poppy, peeking from the open door of the cell he had just let her into.

  ‘Get a move on!’ he hissed.

  ‘Come here!’ she whispered.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘Just come here. Quickly!’

  He swore under his breath and ran to the cell.

  He stopped in the doorway. Poppy stood at the far end of the cell pointing at something on the floor in the corner.

  ‘Look,’ she said, beckoning to him.

  He stepped inside the cell to take a closer look.

  And then something hit him hard over the back of the head.

  105

  Amber didn’t mind working the night shift. Some of the others found it a bit spooky patrolling the prison at night, especially down here in the basement. But she had never believed in ghosts or anything like that. And what didn’t exist couldn’t hurt you, right?

  She padded down the dingy corridor, idly trailing her fingers along the wall, causing tiny flakes of dry paint to chip off and flutter to the floor. Looking down, she noticed that her shoelace was beginning to come undone. She stopped and knelt down to retie it.

  And that was when she heard the noise.

  She froze and tilted her head to listen.

  It had sounded like a whisper.

  But that was impossible seeing as no one but her was supposed to be down here at this hour.

  She knelt there motionless for a few moments longer, straining to listen. But all was quiet.

  It must have just been her imagination.

  She finished tying her shoelace, stood up and continued walking, rounding the corner…

  …where she bumped straight into two inmates.

  She gasped and jumped back in surprise. They did exactly the same thing.

  She recognised them immediately. Bailey and Poppy. Both members of that nasty gang. This didn’t look good.

  ‘What are you doing out of your cells?! How did you manage to get down here?!’

  A guilty glance passed between them.

  ‘This isn’t what it looks like,’ said Bailey, taking a step forward.

  Amber assumed a defensive stance. She saw the bunch of keys in Bailey’s hand. Those were prison officer’s keys.

  ‘Where did you get those keys?’ she demanded.

  Bailey looked down. ‘Oh these? I can explain—’

  Then Amber noticed that Poppy was clutching a shank in one hand.

  This was not a good situation to be in. Alone in the basement, outnumbered two-to-one by armed inmates who were quite clearly in the process of trying to break out of the prison.

  ‘Don’t come one step closer!’ she said in a low firm voice.

  She reached for her walkie-talkie which was clipped to her belt. She brought it up and pressed the ‘transmit’ button.

  ‘Please don’t,’ whispered Bailey desperately. ‘They’ll kill us.’

  Amber frowned. There was something exceedingly odd about this situation.

  She paused, her finger on the button, the noise of the static hissing in the otherwise silent corridor. The tone of Bailey’s voice and the look of fear in Poppy’s eyes told her that she needed to listen.

  Slowly, she lifted her finger from the ‘transmit’ button.

  Bailey visibly sagged in relief.

  Amber clipped the walkie-talkie back onto her belt but didn’t relax her defensive posture.

  ‘Okay, you’d better tell me what’s going on. Right now.’

  106

  Bailey exhaled slowly. Thank god it had been Amber who’d caught them as opposed to some other guard. Although she was uptight and she did things by the book, she possessed that thin margin of empathy that many of her colleagues lacked. In this situation, it could make the critical difference between life and death.

  ‘I’m a serving police officer, acting in an undercover capacity.’

  Amber’s eyes widened. She raised her eyebrows. A faint smile crossed her face as if this was some bad joke. ‘You expect me to believe that?’

  ‘You have to, because it’s true.’

  ‘I’m not an idiot, Bailey.’

  ‘I know you’re not. You just need to know a little bit of background.’

  And with that, Bailey launched into a full, unexpurgated account of her activities at the prison – Alice… the gang… Terry… Crazy Mel… the Hairdresser… Felicia Lee…

  It was the first time Poppy had heard the complete story, and both she and Amber listened in wide-eyed silence as the words gushed out in a frenetic unbroken torrent.

  Bailey finished and they both just stared at her, astounded.

  Amber blinked and shook her head. ‘That is one hell of a story, Bailey. A killer getting into the prison through a well which is used for drug smuggling.’

  ‘It’s the only explanation. So, as you can see, we’ve got no choice. If we go back upstairs, there’s no telling what might happen. We know the Governor’s set the gang on us. And it’s only a matter of time before Terry manages to raise the alarm. I’m fairly certain we’ll both be killed. We don’t have much time.’

  ‘Terry I can accept. I always thought there was something dodgy about him. But the Governor as well?’ Amber screwed up her face and shook her head.

  Bailey sighed in frustration. ‘It’s true. I swear.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but this all just sounds a bit too far-fetched.’

  ‘She
’s telling the truth,’ said Poppy.

  ‘A ringing endorsement,’ remarked Amber, drily.

  ‘Please give me a chance,’ said Bailey. ‘You’re not like the others. You’re better than them. That’s why I trust you. Just give me this one chance.’

  ‘As I recall, you were locked up for committing fraud, which means, basically, that you’re very good at deceiving people. How do I know you’re not deceiving me right now?’

  ‘That was just my cover story!’ blurted Bailey, feeling like she was floundering. She reflected how ironic it was that she’d conned them for so long, and yet now she was telling the truth they didn’t believe her.

  ‘It was pretty convincing,’ murmured Poppy, shooting her a faint sideways smile.

  ‘Look at it from my perspective,’ said Amber slowly. ‘If I go along with you, I could get into big trouble.’

  ‘I understand that,’ replied Bailey. ‘But if we don’t do something tonight, someone will die tomorrow. The killer is due to strike tomorrow. We have to get out of here through the well and inform the police so they can stop him.’

  ‘Look, why don’t the three of us go upstairs and sort it out up there? It’ll be fine. Even if what you say is true, they won’t dare to do anything to me.’

  Bailey raised her eyebrows. ‘Are you willing to take that chance? Haven’t you been listening to anything I’ve been saying? The Governor knows I’m onto him. He can’t afford to let me live. Neither can Terry. Neither can the gang. And if they know that you know as well, who knows what they’ll do to you?’

  Bailey held her breath as she waited on Amber’s judgement. She could see the cogs turning as Amber anxiously clenched her jaw trying to weigh up the ramifications of believing Bailey versus not believing her. She felt terrible for putting her in such a quandary.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Poppy give her an ever-so-subtle look as if to imply that maybe they should both jump on Amber and subdue her in much the same way they had done with Terry. Bailey gave an infinitesimal shake of the head. Not just yet…