35

Senior Officer James came in. ‘You’re going in the hole I’m afraid, Jake.’

‘The hole?’

‘The governor has concerns so you’ll be placed in a cell close to the sick bay and put on suicide watch.’

‘He thinks I’m a suicide risk?’

‘No, it’s just a way of isolating you, keeping an eye on you and avoiding putting you in the segregation unit.’

‘What you mean is it avoids the proper recorded process.’

‘That’s right, Jake.’ Sarah took a step forward.

‘No, Sarah, it’s okay.’ I turned to Officer James, ‘Wonderful; do I get fed first?’

‘Haven’t you eaten?’

‘No and I expect the police haven’t eaten either and nor has Sarah here.’

‘Let’s get that fixed first then, Jake.’ She made a call on her radio.

Officer James led the way to the dining room, stomping along in front of us. There was no way that she could walk; her legs were made for stomping. We followed her towards the dining hall and I was humming the tune to the Nancy Sinatra song, ‘These boots were made for walking’.

Sarah gave me a poke in the ribs, and said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, Jake Robinson,’ and she laughed quietly.

We arrived just seconds before the police officers, and they joined Sarah, Officer James and me. They really should have sat at another table but they seemed quite happy to sit with us. Well, I was the one they shouldn’t sit with.

It was odd how all institutional kitchens smelled of boiled cabbage. I don’t suppose they boil more cabbage per cubic metre of space than the average house but by some mysterious, institutional means, boiled cabbage permeates the atmosphere and then is wafted through the whole building.

‘How’s the investigation going, Inspector?’

‘You know I can’t tell you that, Jake.’

‘No, I suppose not.’

‘What’s the food like here?’

‘Toni’s on at the moment so it should be fantastic.’

‘He’s a good cook then?’

‘Toni was one of the best chefs in London. He was at The Langham when they arrested him. He can make baked beans taste heavenly.’

With that, a couple of trustees arrived with sausage and mash with onion gravy and baked beans.

‘See, he’s even done beans for you.’

Each plate was identical and a delight to observe. In the centre of the table was placed a mustard bowl.

‘He also makes his own mustard,’ said Officer James.

We all ate in silence until one of the officers said, ‘I know I shouldn’t ask but what’s he in for?’

‘Multiple homicide; he was a serial killer. You’ll be pleased to know he hasn’t killed anyone since he’s been in here. Well, perhaps he has but nobody’s been able to pin anything on him.’

‘Oh,’ said the constable.

Another asked, ‘How did he kill people then?’

‘You really want to know?’

‘Um, Yes.’ He didn’t sound too sure.

‘Toni poisoned his family, his wife’s family and a lot of people related to him and friends of his dad.’

There was a shocked silence. You could feel the tension in the air and everybody but Officer James and me had stopped eating. They were all wondering if I was telling the truth.

‘You’re joking, right?’ said the young police constable.

‘No,’ said Officer James. ‘Toni can make poisons out of innocuous ingredients.’ Officer James and I continued to eat and Sarah was tentatively picking at her food. The others were silent, looking at me, when Toni came out of the kitchen. He looked around the table.

‘Jake’s told you why I’m in here then.’

There was a silence.

‘Well, they did ask, Toni.’

‘Let me tell you folks, Jake probably told you the truth but not the whole truth. I only killed those who abused me as a child and those that knew and did nothing. What you have folks is the best sausage and mash you’re ever going to get and the other thing I bet he didn’t tell you was I only poisoned puddings.’ He laughed and went back towards the kitchen.

‘Is it true he only poisoned puddings?’

‘I’m pleased to report that’s what he says and what the evidence says,’ said Officer James.

‘Ah well,’ said the inspector, ‘it’s too late now and he’s right; this is the best sausage and mash I’m ever likely to have.’ With that, he tucked in and the others continued to tentatively eat what was in front of them.

‘We don’t let him make puddings, though, just in case.’

‘That’s a shame. I was going to have some treacle pudding,’ said the inspector, pointing at the menu board.

‘Oh, you can if you like. Mac made that. Dab hand at treacle pudding is Mac; Toni taught him,’ I said.

‘Sod it,’ said the young constable. ‘I’ll have some; it’s got to be better than the stuff at the factory.’

Officer James got a call on her radio. ‘Jake, it’s been decided that you can go back to your cell.’

I looked at the inspector. He shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’s amazing what a search can reveal, Jake.’ He smiled a wry smile and shook his head. He still wasn’t sure he had the information. His instinct was telling him one thing and the evidence was saying another.

‘Thank you, Inspector.’

I was walking back to my cell when Tom, the finder, appeared at my side. He’d a way of coming up to you sideways so it looked like he was just walking past but was in fact closing with you. He spoke out of the side of his mouth, a trait I associated with borstal and the like.

‘You wanted to know about visitors, Captain.’

‘Uh ha.’

‘Jase had some normal visits but only one of interest: a woman, named Celia Foley. She’s a “Ms” and the address was Bulford, Wiltshire: a military address. I asked a friend to do some digging. It would seem the address indicated that she was a military cop. She visited him twice.’

‘Might be a girlfriend.’

‘Might be, Captain. The other visitors for Mr Wharton were just his normal routine ones. You want to know why Jase was bumped off don’t you, Captain.’

‘Yes I do, Tom.’

‘If I was you, Captain, I wouldn’t try to find out.’

‘Why not, Tom?’

‘I’ve a feeling that it’s pretty heavy.’ With that, he wheeled away from me. I just wondered if there was information available or whether Tom was reading between the lines.