A Prisoner of Birth Read online

  ‘Intae an alley?’

  ‘How did you know that?’ asked a surprised-sounding voice.

  ‘Ye told me yisterday,’ said Big Al, recovering from his mistake.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Another long silence. ‘Spencer and Gerald ran round to the back of the pub the moment they left, so Larry and I went along for the ride. But then it got out of control.’

  ‘Who wis tae blame fur that?’

  ‘Spencer and Gerald. They wanted to pick a fight with the two yobs and assumed we’d back them up, but I was too spaced out to be of any use, and Larry doesn’t go in for that sort of thing.’

  ‘Larry?’

  ‘Larry Davenport.’

  ‘The soap star?’ said Big Al, trying to sound surprised.

  ‘Yes. But he and I just stood around and watched when the fight broke out.’

  ‘So it wis yer friend Spencer who wis looking fur a fight?’

  ‘Yes. He’s always fancied himself as a boxer, got a blue at Cambridge, but those two lads were in a different class. That was until Spencer pulled out the knife.’

  ‘Spencer had a knife?’

  ‘Yes, he picked it up from the bar before he went into the alley. I remember him saying, “Just in case”.’

  ‘An he’d nae seen the two men or the girl before?’

  ‘No, but he still fancied his chances with the girl, until Cartwright got the better of him. That’s when Spencer lost his temper and stabbed him in the leg.’

  ‘But he didnae kill him?’

  ‘No, just stabbed him in the leg, and while Cartwright was nursing his wound, Spencer stabbed the other guy in the chest.’ It was some time before the voice said, ‘And killed him.’

  ‘Did ye call the polis?’

  ‘No, Spencer must have done that later, after he told us all to go home. He said that if anyone asked any questions, we were to say we’d never left the bar, and didn’t see anything.’

  ‘And did anyone ask any questions?’

  ‘The police came round to my place the next morning. I hadn’t slept, but I didn’t let on. I think I was more frightened of Craig than the police, but it didn’t matter anyway, because the detective in charge of the investigation was convinced he’d arrested the right man.’

  The tape ran for several more seconds before Mortimer’s voice added, ‘That was over two years ago, and not a day goes by when I don’t think about that lad. I’ve already warned Spencer that as soon as I’m fit enough to give evidence . . .’ The tape went dead.

  ‘Well done!’ exclaimed Nick, but Big Al only grunted. He had stuck to the script Danny had written for him, which covered all the points Mr Redmayne needed for the appeal.

  ‘I still have to get the tape to Mr Redmayne somehow,’ said Danny as he removed it from the cassette player and tucked it under his pillow.

  ‘That shouldn’t prove too difficult,’ said Nick. ‘Send it in a sealed envelope marked “legal”. No officer would dare to open it unless they were convinced the lawyer was dealing in money or drugs directly with an inmate, and no barrister would be stupid enough to take that sort of risk.’

  ‘Unless that inmate hud a screw working on the inside,’ said Big Al, ‘who jist happened tae find oot aboot the tape.’

  ‘But that’s not possible,’ said Danny, ‘not while we’re the only three who know about it.’

  ‘Don’t forget Mortimer,’ said Big Al, finally deciding it was time to sit up. ‘An he’s no capable of keeping his mooth shut, especially when he needs a hit.’

  ‘So what should I do with the tape?’ said Danny. ‘Because I have no chance of winning my appeal without it.’

  ‘Dinnae risk sending it by post,’ said Big Al. ‘Make an appointment tae see Redmayne, and then hand it over in person. ’Cause who dae ye think jist happened to huv a meeting wi’ his lawyer yisterday?’

  Nick and Danny didn’t speak as they waited for Big Al to answer his own question.

  ‘That bastard Leach,’ he eventually said.

  ‘That could just be a coincidence,’ said Nick.

  ‘No when that lawyer is Spencer Craig.’

  ‘How can you be so sure it was Spencer Craig?’ asked Danny, gripping the railing on the side of his bunk.

  ‘Screws drop in and oot of the hospital to huv a chat wi’ sister, and I’m the wan who his tae brew their cuppa.’

  ‘If a bent screw were to find out about that tape,’ said Nick, ‘there would be no prizes for guessing whose desk it would end up on.’

  ‘So what am I meant to do about that?’ said Danny, sounding desperate.

  ‘Make sure it does end up on his desk,’ said Nick.

  ‘Are you booked in for a consultation?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘So are you here to seek legal advice?’

  ‘Not exactly.’

  ‘Then what are you here for, exactly?’ asked Spencer Craig.

  ‘I require aid, but not of the legal variety.’

  ‘What kind of aid do you have in mind?’ asked Craig.

  ‘I’ve spotted a rare opportunity to get my hands on a large shipment of wine, but there’s a problem.’

  ‘A problem?’ repeated Craig.

  ‘They require a down payment.’

  ‘How much?’

  ‘Ten thousand pounds.’

  ‘I’ll need a few days to think about it.’

  ‘I’m sure you will, Mr Craig, but don’t take too long, because I have another interested party, who’s hoping I’ll be able to answer a few questions this time around.’ The barman of the Dunlop Arms paused before adding, ‘I promised to let him know before May the thirty-first.’

  They all heard the key turning in the lock, which took them by surprise, as it was still another hour before Association.

  When the cell door was pulled open, Hagen was standing in the doorway. ‘Cell search,’ he said. ‘You three, in the corridor.’

  Nick, Danny and Big Al made their way out on to the landing and were even more surprised when Hagen marched into their cell and pulled the door closed behind him. The surprise was not that a screw was carrying out a pad search. They were common enough – officers were always on the lookout for drugs, drink, knives and even guns. But whenever a cell search had taken place in the past, there were always three officers present, and the cell door was left wide open so that prisoners couldn’t claim something had been planted.

  A few moments later the door swung open and Hagen reappeared, unable to hide the grin on his face. ‘OK, lads,’ he said, ‘you’re clean.’

  Danny was surprised to see Leach in the library, because he’d never taken out a book before. Perhaps he wanted to read a paper. He was roaming up and down the shelves, looking lost.

  ‘Can I help?’ ventured Danny.

  ‘I want the latest copy of the Law Review.’

  ‘You’re in luck,’ said Danny. ‘We only had an out-of-date one until a few days ago when someone donated several books to the library, including the latest edition of the Law Review.’

  ‘So hand it over,’ Leach demanded.

  Danny walked across to the legal section, removed a thick leather-bound book from the shelf and brought it back to the counter. ‘Name and number?’

  ‘I don’t have to tell you nothin’.’

  ‘You’ll have to tell me your name if you want to take out a book, because otherwise I can’t make out a library card.’

  ‘Leach, 6241,’ he snarled.

  Danny made out a new library card. He hoped Leach hadn’t noticed his hand was trembling. ‘Sign on the bottom line.’

  Leach put a cross on the place where Danny was pointing.

  ‘You’ll have to return the book within three days,’ Danny explained.

  ‘Who do you think you are, a fuckin’ screw? I’ll bring it back when I feel like it.’

  Danny watched as Leach grabbed the book and walked out of the library without saying another word. He was puzzled. If Leach couldn’t sign his name . . .

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