ONCE PRINCIPAL OFFICER Ted Harrison got going there was little anyone could do to shut him up. The man was holding court with representatives of no fewer than four departments sitting in a semi-circle round his desk. The meeting, scheduled to last just forty-five minutes, had already been going on for the best part of an hour.
The room itself was stuffy, littered with used coffee cups, the remains of a packet of digestive biscuits, empty water bottles. Prisoner profiles lay in untidy heaps on the floor, along with psychological assessments, parole dossiers and sentence-planning reports. Casting her eye over the mess, Emily McCann felt guilty. Her colleagues were exhausted, itching to draw the meeting to a close. She wanted to go home too but as soon as the day’s business was concluded, casting caution aside, she’d dared to criticize one of Harrison’s men, tackling the thorny subject of Officer Kent – specifically his attitude towards inmate Walter Fearon following his suicide attempt.
As she waited for a response, her attention strayed to the PO’s desk where a hefty document had been pushed to one side. Her eyes scanned the title page: Amanda Drake: Punishment v Rehabilitation – Both Sides of the Argument.
Yeah right, Emily scoffed.
Harrison was incapable of seeing both sides of anything. As flexible as a steel girder, he was a patronizing, self-opinionated bully. Someone who liked the sound of his own, very loud, voice. Sensing that a sermon was imminent, Emily fixed him with a glare and got in first.
‘This is not Abu Ghraib, Ted. Fearon is entitled to as much protection as any other prisoner. Deal with Kent or I will take it further.’
‘I hear what you’re saying, Emily, I do . . .’ Harrison paused. His mouth was smiling but his eyes were not. Placing his elbows on the desk, he linked his hands in front of him and rested his chin on top of them. ‘You’re making a serious alleg—’
‘No!’ Emily hit back. ‘I’m stating a fact. Ask Ash Walker if you don’t believe me.’
‘Are you trying to make yourself unpopular?’ Harrison asked. ‘Why don’t you go away and think about whose side you’re on. Come and see me again when you’ve given it more thought.’
‘Don’t patronize me, Ted. I—’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Harrison said. ‘I’ve worked with Bill Kent for a very long time. He’s not perfect, but then who is? As a matter of fact, he’s a fine officer.’
‘Is he now?’ Emily could feel the colour rising in her cheeks. ‘May I remind you we have standards on this wing.’ She thumbed over her left shoulder. ‘Last time I looked at the nameplate on that door, your name was on it. That means it’s your job to ensure they’re upheld!’ She glanced at other staff in the room. ‘Well? It isn’t the first time Kent has stepped out of line, is it?’
Two of those present avoided her gaze – too bottleless to acknowledge a problem existed – not wanting to get involved. The prison chaplain adjusted his dog collar and looked at the floor. Fortunately for Emily, the woman sitting to his left had more nerve. A probation officer of long-standing, she nodded her head and spoke up.
‘She’s right, Ted. For what it’s worth, I also think Bill Kent has a problem.’
Harrison bristled at the overt challenge to his authority. His views on women were common knowledge: the prison would be much better off without them. He was in charge of this wing; he’d made that clear often enough. Leaning back in his chair, he looked down his nose at them like a headmaster rebuking a pair of insolent pupils.
It was a childish game.
His expression said: toe the line or you’ll be out on your ear.
The probation officer looked away.
Harrison turned on Emily. ‘You don’t want to rock the boat on your first day back now, do you?’
Resolute, Emily made no comment.
‘Suit yourself.’ He was almost smirking. ‘You want to make a complaint, be my guest.’
‘You think I won’t?’ Emily countered.
‘You know where to find the guv’nor,’ Harrison said. ‘It’s your call. This meeting is over.’