The deserted gymnasium looked cavernous and cold in the moonlight. The discarded gym equipment cast long shadows and the heavy ropes that hung from the ceiling seemed strangely sinister, as if harking back to an earlier time when executions were carried out in Holloway.
Helen closed the door quietly behind her. The lifeless space made her shiver and she suddenly realized how vulnerable she was here. She had no weapon, no means to defend herself. If she was surprised here, there would be no one to come to her aid.
‘Sarah?’
Her voice echoed round the empty hall, but there was no response. Had Sarah reneged on their agreement? Was it possible that Helen had somehow walked into a trap?
‘Sarah, are you here?’ she whispered, her strangulated voice sounding unfamiliar and unpleasant.
Now a figure emerged from the shadows. Helen squinted to see who it was, but it was impossible to tell in the half-light. Swallowing down her fear, Helen moved forward and was relieved to see Sarah Bradshaw’s pinched face approaching.
‘Say what you want, then go,’ Bradshaw said.
She looked dreadful – pale, drawn and tense – so Helen asked her straight out:
‘Did you know Leah Smith was pregnant?’
The look on Sarah’s face suggested she did not.
‘Who are the likely candidates?’
‘How should I know?’
‘Because she doesn’t have any male visitors. It has to be a member of staff. You’ve worked here long enough, you know your colleagues.’
‘Are you sure … about the pregnancy, I mean?’
‘It was in the pathology report. You didn’t read it?’
‘None of my business. I got it for you, like you asked, but that’s it. I never wanted to be part of this.’
‘Too late, so give me some names. Someone with a reputation, someone who’s friendly with the girls. Someone who has access to the cells …’
Sarah paused, staring at Helen. Now she looked even less keen to be here.
‘Don’t hold out on me, Sarah. You have a lot more to lose than I have.’
‘I’ve never seen anything …’
‘But …’
‘But you hear things.’
‘About?’
Still Sarah paused – was that fear Helen now saw in her eyes?
‘I’m not going to warn you again,’ Helen threatened. ‘A woman in your care was brutally murdered and violated –’
‘Campbell.’
Sarah looked oddly relieved to have said it. She looked quickly at the door, then added:
‘He’s moved around a lot of prisons and, you know, rumours follow him. About how he used to treat the girls. I think he has an eye for the bad ones … but whether it’s that kind of interest I don’t know.’
‘Well, I heard a story from Wakefield that he tasered one of the girls just for fun. I’ve never seen him up to no good, but that doesn’t mean anything. The clever ones always hide in plain sight, don’t they?’
An image of Jonathan Gardam trying to force himself upon her suddenly shot into Helen’s mind, but she pushed it away quickly.
‘What about the others? Robins, Kirkham, Malik …?’
‘Why not? They’ve all got dicks, haven’t they? But, honestly, you’re asking the wrong person. They don’t talk to me, don’t confide in me …’
‘Who do they confide in?’
‘Each other, I guess. It’s a pretty closed club. Sorry, but that’s all you’re getting from me …’
Sarah didn’t wait to be dismissed, hurrying past Helen towards the exit. Helen made no move to stop her – she had got the information she needed. She’d had her suspicions about Campbell – he was overly familiar with his charges and sadistic with it – and she now wondered whether his attempt to pin the blame for Leah’s murder squarely on her had been a deliberate tactic to obscure his own guilt. Was he the one who had silenced Leah for good?
The door swung shut behind Sarah, making Helen jump and now she too headed for the exit. She had risked a lot to come here, but it had been worth it. Now the challenge was to get home safely.