A Prisoner of Birth (30 page)

"I have also noted that you are an enhanced prisoner, who works in the library as well as assisting the prison teaching staff in both English and History. You seem to have had remarkable success with some of your fellow prisoners, who have gone on to be awarded GCSEs, and one in particular, who is currently preparing to take three A levels."

Nick nodded sadly. Pascoe had tipped him off that Danny had lost his appeal and was on his way back from the Old Bailey. He had wanted to be waiting in the cell when Danny arrived, but unfortunately the Parole Board had scheduled the interview some weeks ago.

Nick had already resolved to be in touch with Alex Redmayne as soon as he was released, and to offer to assist in any way possible. He couldn't understand why the judge hadn't allowed the tape to be played. No doubt Danny would tell him the reason once he returned to his cell. He tried to concentrate on what the representative from the Parole Board was saying.

"I see that during your time in prison, Mr. Moncrieff, you have taken an Open University degree in English, gaining a two-two." Nick nodded. "While your record in prison is highly commendable, I'm sure you'll understand that I still have to ask you some questions before I can complete my report."

Nick had already taken advice from Pascoe on what those questions might be. "Of course," he replied.

"You were convicted by an army board of being reckless and negligent during the course of duty, to which you pleaded guilty. The board stripped you of your commission, and sentenced you to eight years in prison. Is that a fair assessment?"

"Yes it is, Mr. Hurst."

Hurst placed a tick in the first box. "Your platoon was guarding a group of Serbian prisoners when a band of Albanian militia drove up to the compound firing their Kalashnikovs in the air."

"That's correct."

"Your staff sergeant retaliated."

"Warning shots," said Nick, "after I had given the insurgents a clear order to stop firing."

"But two United Nations observers who witnessed the whole incident gave evidence at your trial suggesting that the Albanians were only firing their guns in the air at the time." Nick made no attempt to defend himself. "And although you did not fire a shot yourself, you were the watch commander on that occasion."

"I was."

"And you accept that your sentence was just."

"Yes."

Hurst made a further note before asking, "And were the board to recommend that you should be released having served only half of your sentence, what plans do you have for the immediate future?"

"I intend to return to Scotland, where I would take up a teaching post in any school that will employ me."

Hurst put another tick in another box before moving on to his next question. "Do you have any financial problems that might prevent you taking up a teaching post?"

"No," said Nick, "on the contrary. My grandfather has left me sufficiently well off to ensure that I need not work again."

Hurst ticked another box. "Are you married, Mr. Moncrieff?"

"No," said Nick.

"Do you have any children, or other dependants?"

"No."

"Are you currently on any medication?"

"No."

"If you were to be released, do you have a home to go to?"

"Yes, I have a house in London and another in Scotland."

"Do you have any family to assist you were you to be released?"

"No," said Nick. Hurst looked up; this was the first box not to be ticked. "Both my parents are dead, and I have no brothers or sisters."

"Aunts or uncles?"

"One uncle and aunt who live in Scotland, whom I have never been close to, and another aunt on my mother's side, who lives in Canada, and whom I have corresponded with but never met."

"I understand," said Hurst. "One final question, Mr. Moncrieff. It may
seem a little strange given your circumstances, but nevertheless I have to ask it. Can you think of any reason why you might consider committing the same crime again?"

"As I am unable to resume my career in the army, and indeed have no desire to do so, the answer to your question has to be no."

"I fully understand," said Hurst, placing a tick in the last box. "Finally, do you have any questions for me?"

"Only to ask when I'll be informed of the board's decision."

"It will take me a few days to write my report before I submit it to the board," said Hurst, "but once they've received it, it should be no more than a couple of weeks before they're in touch with you."

"Thank you, Mr. Hurst."

"Thank you, Sir Nicholas."

"We didn't have any choice, sir," said Pascoe.

"I'm sure that's right, Ray," said the governor, "but I do think a little common sense is called for with this particular prisoner."

"What do you have in mind, sir?" asked Pascoe. "After all, he did trash his cell."

"I'm aware of that, Ray, but we all know how lifers can react if their appeal is turned down: they either become silent loners, or tear the place apart."

"A few days in the slammer will bring Cartwright to his senses," said Pascoe.

"Let's hope so," said Barton, "because I'd like to get him back on an even keel as quickly as possible. He's a bright lad. I'd hoped he'd be Moncrieff's natural successor."

"The obvious choice, although he'll automatically lose his enhanced status and have to return to basic."

"That need only be for a month," said the governor.

"In the meantime," said Pascoe, "what do I do about his work category? Do I take him off education and put him back on the chain gang?"

"Heaven forbid," said Barton. "That would be more of a punishment for us than it would be for him."

"What about his canteen rights?"

"No pay and no canteen for four weeks."

"Right, sir," said Pascoe.

"And have a word with Moncrieff. He's Cartwright's closest friend. See if he can knock some sense into him, as well as supporting him over the next few weeks."

"Will do, sir."

"Who's next?"

"Leach, sir."

"What's the charge this time?"

"Failure to return a library book."

"Can't you deal with something as minor as that without involving me?" asked the governor.

"In normal circumstances yes, sir, but in this case it was a valuable leather-bound copy of the
Law Review,
which Leach failed to return despite several verbal and written warnings."

"I still don't see why he needs to come in front of me," said Barton.

"Because when we eventually found the book in a rubbish skip at the back of the block, it had been torn apart."

"Why would he do that?"

"I have my suspicions, sir, but no proof."

"Another way of getting drugs in?"

"As I said, sir, I have no proof. But Leach is back in segregation for another month, just in case he takes it upon himself to tear the whole library apart." Pascoe hesitated. "We have another problem."

"Namely?"

"One of my informers tells me he overheard Leach saying he was going to get even with Cartwright, if it was the last thing he did."

"Because he's the librarian?"

"No, something to do with a tape," replied Pascoe, "but I can't get to the bottom of it."

"That's all I need," said the governor. "You'd better keep a twenty-four-hour watch on both of them."

"We're pretty short-staffed at the moment," said Pascoe.

"Then do the best you can. I don't want a repeat of what happened to the poor bastard at Garside—and all he did was give Leach a V sign."

D
ANNY LAY ON
the top bunk composing a letter which he'd given a great deal of thought to. Nick had tried to talk him out of it, but he had made his decision and there was nothing that would change his mind.

Nick was taking a shower and Big Al was over at the hospital helping sister with the evening surgery, so Danny had the cell to himself. He climbed down from his bunk and took a seat at the small formica table. He stared at a blank sheet of paper. It was some time before he managed to write the first sentence.

Dear Beth,

    
This will be the last time I write to you. I have given a great deal of thought to this letter and have come to the conclusion that I cannot condemn you to the same life sentence that has been imposed on me.

He glanced at the photograph of Beth that was sellotaped to the wall in front of him.

    
As you know, I am not due to be released until I'm fifty and with that in mind, I want you to start a new life without me. If you write to me again, I will not open your letters; if you try to visit, I will remain in my cell; I will not contact you, and will not respond to any attempt
you make to contact me. On this I am adamant, and nothing will change my mind.

    
Do not imagine even for a moment that I don't love you and Christy, because I do, and I will for the rest of my life. But I am in no doubt that this course of action will be best for both of us in the long run.

Goodbye, my love

Danny

He folded the letter and placed it in an envelope, which he addressed to Beth Wilson, 27 Bacon Road, Bow, London E3. Danny was still staring at the photograph of Beth when the cell door swung open. "Letters," said an officer standing in the doorway. "One for Moncrieff, and one for . . ." he spotted the watch on Danny's wrist and the silver chain around his neck and hesitated.

"Nick's taking a shower," Danny explained.

"Right," said the officer. "There's one for you, and one for Moncrieff."

Danny immediately recognized Beth's neat handwriting. He didn't open the envelope, just tore it up, dropped the pieces into the lavatory and pulled the flush. He placed the other envelope on Nick's pillow.

Printed in bold letters in the top left-hand corner were the words "Parole Board."

"How many times have I written to him?" asked Alex Redmayne.

"This will be the fourth letter you've sent in the past month," replied his secretary.

Alex looked out of the window. Several gowned figures were rushing to and fro across the square. "Lifer's syndrome," he said.

"Lifer's syndrome?"

"You either cut yourself off from the outside world, or carry on as if nothing has happened. He's obviously decided to cut himself off."

"So is there any point in writing to him again?"

"Oh, yes," replied Alex. "I want him to be left in no doubt that I haven't forgotten him."