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“He has had no visitors,” the governor said quietly.

“What about other prison agencies? I know many people working in that capacity often become friendly with an inmate.”

“No, there is no one. He has made no friends with anyone from Social Services, male or female. He has obviously had the opportunity but has always refused to join in any of the interactive out-of-cell activities, even in the secure unit, which is a controlled environment.”

Anna asked if they could be given a list of inmates with whom Cameron Welsh had been locked up or had shared a cell.

“He has never shared a cell. He refused to ever be placed with another inmate, and he created major problems when placed on the sex offenders’ wing.”

“I know he’s earned a degree while he’s been here. Did he have a tutor or work within the educational department?”

“No. He earned his degree with the Open University.”

“But surely he would have had to be interviewed?”

“Apparently not.”

“So during his sentence, he has never been close to any other prisoner?” Anna needed a precise answer.

“He worked out in the gym, so he could have made contact with another prisoner, but that would have been some time ago. They do have a small gym in the secure unit that he uses daily.”

“What about the other inmates in the secure unit?”

“Well, obviously, he has to be in contact with them, and I can give you their names — they are a drug dealer, a Mafia-connected prisoner, and a terrorist. Although we have facilities in there for eight inmates, we currently have only four, which will enable you to interview him with the cells on either side unoccupied.”

Barolli asked for the other inmates’ records to ascertain if any of them could have contacts involving their case. It took some time before both he and Anna were able to determine that all three had been held at Barfield before the women in question were murdered. This meant that whatever “information” Welsh claimed he had could not have been passed to him recently.

“How do the prison officers get along with him?” Anna asked next.

“Their job is to basically monitor rather than befriend, so they keep their distance, but at the same time they are trained to have awareness of their inmates. It is much harder in such close proximity, as you will see in the secure unit, which is small in comparison with all the amenities we have in the main prison compound. The officers selected have already proved to be dedicated and have spent time on the main prison wings beforehand.”

Hardwick stood up abruptly and gestured to the door, saying, “Right. As I have a busy schedule, I have arranged for two officers to walk you over to the secure unit. So you will see for yourselves how Mr. Welsh is today.”

Anna and Barolli were led into the main prison yard, passing the high-wired fences surrounding the exercise yard. There were numerous prisoners playing handball, while others smoked and chatted in groups, but all of them stopped what they were doing as the newcomers passed. There were a lot of wolf whistles and catcalls, especially at Anna, referring to her red hair.

“’Ere, Red, show us a smile!”

There were more abusive sexual shouts, but Anna kept facing front, not for a moment acknowledging the catcalls. Eventually, they approached a barred-gated walkway some distance from the exercise yard. The security cameras were positioned high up on the fence corridor as they came to a second barred gate, and after that was unlocked, they arrived at the prison within a prison.

The secure unit was a large square building with cameras trained on the main entrance. The two officers gave their names and the names of Anna and Barolli before it clicked open. One officer walked in front of them, the other behind as he relocked the gate. They strode along a narrow windowless corridor before they entered the main area. This was surprisingly light, with large glass doors opening onto a small walled exercise yard. There was a room with high windows almost at ceiling level, and they were told that this was the inmates’ workroom. The open space contained a Ping-Pong table and a snooker table. Here the four guards sat around a small table reading the morning papers with mugs of tea, while a large television set attached to the wall was turned to Sky Sports. All stood to be introduced. Anna noticed that they were young, fit, and all about six feet tall.

The two accompanying officers left Anna and Barolli with the four guards, with instructions that as soon as the visitors were ready to go, they should contact the main gate. A fresh-faced blond officer who introduced himself as Ken Hudson offered tea or coffee and gestured toward a small, well-equipped kitchen. It amused Anna that he directed his conversation toward Barolli rather than to her, as he had confused the rank and was unaware that she was actually Paul’s superior.

“That’s where they can cook their meals if they want,” he was telling Barolli.

“If you don’t mind, we’d just like to talk with Cameron Welsh and not take up any more of your time than necessary,” Anna interrupted. She was keen to get started.

Hudson realized he had misjudged the situation and blushed. He told them that all the inmates were in their cells. “They’re not happy about it, but we felt it better that you have no interruptions. They’re all nosy sods and would have pestered the pair of you. Especially you.” He smiled at Anna, and it was her turn to blush.

“So the sooner we get through, the better,” she said stiffly.

“Okay — follow me. We have two aisles with the cells off them, and Cameron’s off the first one. We were instructed to keep the cells on either side empty, so there’s no other prisoner in aisle one.” The young man was protective of her, explaining that she would have no cause for concern, as he would be watching from the monitors.

“Thank you.” Anna smiled and then paused. “Can I just ask you about Welsh for a moment?”

“Sure.”

“How do you find him?”

Hudson shrugged. “He’s no trouble if he’s left alone; he doesn’t mix with the other blokes, and we hardly ever get a word out of him unless he’s complaining about something or other. He’s a fussy eater, and due to having cash sent in by his solicitor, he’s allowed to order his own food from the prison shop; mostly, it’s vegetarian. He even gets that sushi sent in, and he likes a lot of fruit drinks, but we have to always make sure the kitchen is clear, as he won’t cook in there unless it’s empty. The other blokes didn’t like it. To begin with, you know, they tried to start up conversations with him, play cards, whatever, but he wasn’t having any of it. He even works out in the yard alone; anyone else goes out there, he walks back in. If it’s sunny, he gets a chair and places it with his back to us and sits sunbathing for hours.”

“Does he watch television?”

“Yeah. Not in the main area, though; he’s got his own portable one, and he’s also got his computer, and gets sent in books every month. His cell is wall-to-wall books, but he won’t let any other guys read them, none of us, either. They’re mostly hardbacks. He’s got quite a selection.”

“What does he do all day — when he’s not sunbathing, that is?” Barolli asked, and Anna wished he didn’t sound so sarcastic.

“Reads or writes. He’s also particular about his laundry. They’re allowed to use their own sheets and bedlinen in here, and his are pristine Egyptian cotton. He also never uses the barber, but we sit and watch him cut his own hair; he’s particular about that, and it takes him forever. We also have his cell searched frequently. That includes checking his computer hard drive and making sure he’s not abusing the fact that he’s allowed to use one.”

“Does he get a lot of letters?” Anna asked.

“Yes. There’s lots of mail for him, mostly to do with his writing. He’s doing various courses and Open University stuff, as he’s intelligent, but...”