Cold Revenge (Willis/Carter #6)(19)
‘Keep this card and if you want to talk to either of us, you phone that number,’ said Carter.
Yvonne nodded and her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’ve said enough. If they can do that to Millie, they can come for me. I am sorry for everything that happened in those times. I am truly sorry, but I’m not going to be the only one who breaks the chain. I am not going to say anything against anyone from that time.’
‘Douglas can’t hurt you, Yvonne.’
‘You say that because you don’t know him.’
Chapter 12
‘Never be late for the work party,’ the prison guard, Kowalski, growled at the man who was last onto the minibus, waiting to set off for the restaurant out in Kent. The Michelin-starred chef who ran it was generously allowing several prisoners some work experience in his kitchen and in his adjoining grounds and gardens. Douglas had been there for two months now, and he was loving it. Being late was a cardinal sin. It jeopardised everyone else’s chances on the bus. Douglas stared at the latecomer.
‘Prisoner 513, I’m giving you a final warning,’ said Kowalski. ‘Shut up and get on this bus or we will not be moving from here today.’
The prisoner mumbled something back in reply. He was having trouble talking, his face was swollen, he had bruising that was livid on his cheekbones; he had black eyes. The other five inmates already on the bus were holding their breath. Talking back to an officer would result in punishment, punishment took time to organise, and they wouldn’t make it today. Douglas moved closer to the window to glare at the prisoner. The officer in charge caught Douglas’s eye and made a decision to ignore 513’s remarks. Douglas smiled at Kowalski.
‘On the bus, that’s an order.’ The man heaved himself up into the vehicle. He’d had a bad night, he’d been in a fight and come off worst. Now his broken tooth was killing him and he had been refused permission to see a dentist that day.
Jimmy Douglas glared at the back of the man’s head as he sat down in front of him.
Kowalski got on the bus and the driver pulled the door to. The guard sat down at the front and slid back in the seat, so his back was resting against the window and he was side-on to the prisoners.
It took just over an hour and a half to reach the grounds of the restaurant. After an hour of prepping Douglas went out into the garden to collect the salad leaves and found prisoner 1280 who was on gardening detail. Douglas knew him; he helped him write letters home. The man was illiterate. Now 1280 looked up and watched Douglas approach. It was bad manners to ask what each man was in for; you became a number when you went in, except everyone knew who Douglas was.
‘Jimmy? That cunt nearly cost us this, this morning. I don’t reckon he’s going to be on time tomorrow either. Then we’ll all be penalised,’ said 1280.
‘How would you feel about that, Stitch?’ It was not the first time Douglas had called the prisoner by his nickname; he usually did it as a reward when 1280 did something right in exchange for the letter writing. Once, without too much persuasion, 1280 had brought Douglas a SIM card, with credit on it. Now Douglas had four phones he could use. Battery life was a problem, as charging them was very hard. Douglas had brought two of them with him and was charging them off the freezer plugs in the kitchen.
‘You just keep your cool, Stitch, you’ll be okay.’ He was nicknamed Stitch because of the tattoo around his neck. ‘If you start something here, that will be the end of your gardening work party. It will be the end for all of us.’
‘But if he doesn’t get on that bus tomorrow, on time, we’ll lose this job and I like it here.’
Stitch had worked his way through the categories of prisons, just the way Douglas had. He was hoping to be released in the next couple of years. Although it was bad form to ask what Stitch had done, it was well known that he had murdered the man he found in bed with his wife, but not instantly – it took ten days and afterwards he murdered his wife.
Douglas’s fellow prisoners never thought of him as a murderer or a rapist. They somehow understood that he had been wronged. No one who talked as softly, as sensibly, with so much compassion for his fellow prisoners, could ever have been evil. He had definitely covered up for someone else. He was innocent, like so many banged up.
‘I do agree with that, 513 will fuck it up for us, and he has to be stopped but not here and not now.’
‘When then?’
‘I don’t know, I’m not into that kind of violence. You need him to promise you he will never let you down again. Promise you he understands the way you feel, doesn’t just dismiss it, as if you mean nothing. He has to understand how important this is to you. This is everything to you right now. All you can do is wait, get him on his own and just reason with him, ask him to give and take here.’
Stitch was listening, eyes on the ground. He accepted what Douglas said and moved off.
The governor made an announcement the next morning as he interrupted the chaplain and his morning mass.
‘There has been a brutal stabbing and a prisoner is dead. All work parties will carry on as usual. The prison has a duty to fulfil its obligations to outside employers and to present a good impression to the outside world.’
Chapter 13
Sunday 21 May 2000
When Douglas got back from Lambs Farm after burying Tony, Nicola was cooking curry and making sugary-topped lemon cakes and dancing to rave music in the kitchen. Yvonne was on the sofa and Gavin was outside on the patio, Millie was on speed and gabbling away to everyone, but no one was talking about what happened the night before. Yvonne wanted to go home but she wasn’t allowed, not until her tattoo was done and that would be when Nicola wanted to do it. Stephen went to crash out on the sofa in the sitting room.