It was a bright fresh Saturday morning and there was a definite crispness in the air. Amber loved being outside on days like this. She was on her way to start her morning shift and she was walking across the prison car park in the direction of the gatehouse.
Even the bruise on her temple couldn’t dent her positive mood. It had gone down considerably since the fight in the canteen, but it was still a little bit on the tender side. She would definitely be more careful from now on when it came to intervening in prisoner-on-prisoner disputes. At least now, though, she had a little extra insurance in the form of the CS gas Terry had given her. So saying, she kept it in her locker most of the time as she didn’t feel completely comfortable with the idea of using it.
As she drew closer to the gatehouse, she fell within the shadow of the huge perimeter wall that towered up above her. Even on a nice sunny morning like this, the place still looked incredibly draconian and unwelcoming. But then she guessed that was supposed to be the idea – it was a prison, not a five-star hotel.
As she made her way through the car park, she recognised Terry’s maroon S-type Jaguar pulling into a nearby bay. Presumably he was due to start work on the same shift that she was on. She looked at his car in admiration and wondered, not for the first time, how he had managed to afford such a nice vehicle on a prison officer’s salary.
She’d almost reached the entrance to the gatehouse when the howl of a police siren cut through the tranquillity of the morning. She jumped in shock, startled by the loud noise, and spun around to see what was happening.
At least three police cars and one police van had suddenly appeared from different directions, seemingly out of nowhere, their blue lights flashing. They skidded to a halt, their doors swung open and a torrent of uniformed and plain-clothes police officers poured out.
Amber stood rooted to the ground, watching in astonishment, completely taken aback by this sudden frenzy of activity. What the hell was going on?
At the epicentre of the commotion was Terry’s Jaguar. He had just opened the door and stepped out and he looked just as bewildered as she did. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before he was overwhelmed by a squad of police officers and roughly manhandled into a face-down position on the bonnet of his car, where he was handcuffed and read his rights.
At that point she thought it best to continue on into the prison, if only for the reason that hanging around outside any longer would have made her late for work. She went through gatehouse security in a semi-trance, her mind still processing what she had just witnessed. Terry had obviously done something very wrong to be the subject of such a furore, but what exactly?
By the time they were sitting down for the morning briefing, the news of his arrest appeared to have spread throughout much of the prison and speculation was rife.
Dylan had sat down next to her. He seemed to have been making a habit of doing that recently in the morning briefings. Not that it bothered her particularly. She could smell his cologne and she couldn’t deny that he smelt quite pleasant. He smiled at her, observing her appreciatively with his pale blue eyes. She adjusted her bun and straightened her glasses.
‘I hear you witnessed the big drama,’ he said.
‘I’ve never seen so many police in all my life. What do you think it was all about?’
He shrugged in an offhand manner, a humorous slant to his mouth. ‘I heard his wife was a bit of a shrew. Maybe she tipped him over the edge.’
Amber emitted a giggle. ‘What? You think he did her in?’
‘Probably with a side-handle baton.’
The two of them promptly stopped their joking as soon as the Governor entered the room. The assembled officers all fell silent, hoping to get a definitive explanation.
The Governor looked solemn. He cleared his throat.
‘As many of you are probably aware by now, Terry has been detained by the police.’
He paused to look over the room. They were all sitting forwards on their seats in anticipation of what he was about to say next.
‘In case you’re wondering why he’s been arrested, that information hasn’t yet been disclosed to me, so I’m as much in the dark as you are.’
There were a few groans of disappointment.
‘I heard drugs were involved,’ said someone.
‘Do you think he’s on the take?’
‘He has got a gambling problem.’
‘And that wife of his…’
‘That’s enough speculation!’ barked the Governor. ‘Now there’s no reason why this should affect your work. So it’s business as usual, understand?’
Amber knew how much the Governor detested Terry, and vice versa. They locked horns in almost every briefing. But if the Governor was pleased at the misfortune that had befallen his enemy, he made no outward show of it.
The prison officers all stood up to begin their day’s work. As Amber got to her feet, she noticed something lying on the floor next to her chair. She frowned and leant down to pick it up. It was a black leather glove.
She held it up and examined it. The leather was soft and supple and it felt expensive.
‘Hey, Dylan,’ she said to his departing back. ‘Did you drop this?’
He turned around. At the sight of the glove, his face broke into a surprised smile.
‘Whoops! Must have fallen out of my pocket.’ He took it from her. ‘Thanks.’
‘Looks like it’s designer,’ she said.
He pulled the matching glove from his trouser pocket and held them together in a pair. ‘They’re Italian,’ he said. ‘I find I drive better when I’m wearing them. I guess I should go and put them in my locker.’
He winked at her and walked off, casually slapping the pair of black leather gloves into the palm of his hand.
What a nice pair of gloves, thought Amber. Perhaps she should buy herself a pair.