He turns her round and pulls her towards him. ‘I’m sorry, love, I didn’t mean to upset you. This whole thing, it’s got us both on edge.’ He sighs. ‘Who knows, perhaps that’s what they want – setting us at each other’s throats.’ He leads her back to the chair and sits her down, patting her gently on the shoulder. ‘You stay there while I make you some tea. We don’t want you getting unwell, do we? Not like last time.’
* * *
Adam Fawley
24 October
15.20
Heathside is exactly what its name suggests: right on the edge of Surrey Heath. Though as we emerge from the trees that separate it from the main road, the first thing that comes to mind is that quip about anyone who’s been to public school feeling right at home in prison. I can’t remember who said it. A con man, probably. Or a spy. Either way, despite the gates and the high wire fences and the concrete, there’s a distinct girls’-school feel to the solid brick block with its sloping roof and ranks of dormer windows. It’s not Burghley Abbey, that’s for sure, but Camilla Rowan may be better prepared to cope with it than most.
The gate personnel are expecting us, and after the usual sign-in and security faff we’re shown into the governor’s office by her eager – male – assistant. I can’t be the first person to wonder whether that particular recruitment choice was designed to make a point. The room is rather plusher than I would have expected, and the governor is rather younger, with a sleek blonde bob and a linen dress in an aggressive splashy floral. She’s obviously quite happy standing out in a crowd.
‘DI Fawley,’ she says, rising to her feet and extending a well-manicured hand. ‘Victoria Winfield. Pleased to meet you.’
She gestures us to sit and folds her fingers carefully together. ‘So you’re here to see Camilla.’
I’m assuming she knows why, though it’s the MoJ who’ve been liaising with her, so I can’t be sure.
‘Does she get a lot of visitors?’
Winfield smiles drily. ‘Well, certainly not from police officers.’
‘Her family?’
A shake of the head.
‘Lawyers?’
‘Not since the CCRC review.’
She leans forward and flips open a file, but given what she says next I can’t believe she actually needed to check.
‘In fact, the Duchess hasn’t had a single person on her visiting list for more than nine months.’
It takes me a second, Quinn a couple more, then I hear him suppress a snort.
Winfield raises an eyebrow. ‘It was rather inevitable. Camilla is hardly a common name among the prison population. And given the way she behaves –’ She doesn’t need to say any more. ‘To be honest, I live in dread of the “other” Camilla deciding she’d like to visit. It would be a riot. Or a rout.’ She sits back. ‘But I doubt very much that you’re here to talk about the royal appointments diary, so what exactly do you want?’
‘Has Rowan ever spoken about what happened to her baby?’
A shake of the head. ‘Not to me. From what I hear, she’s always maintained exactly the same story: she gave the child to its father.’ She sits back and looks squarely at me. ‘So is that what’s prompted your sudden interest? Some sort of development?’
‘There was an incident at her parents’ house on Sunday. A man was killed. Subsequent DNA testing has proved he was Camilla’s son. Almost certainly the son she’s supposed to have murdered. Unless there’s yet another child we know nothing about.’
She leans forward again and looks at her file, and this time she’s reading it for real.
‘But there were other adoptions, weren’t there? Or am I imagining that?’
‘Two. They’ve been ruled out.’
She finds the relevant place, then nods. ‘Ah yes, I see.’
There’s a silence.
‘So what now?’
‘We talk to her. See what she has to say, and go from there. What happens after that will be down to the CPS. And what we do – or don’t – find.’
‘So there’s a chance she’ll be released?’
Quinn shrugs. ‘We thought someone died. Looks like they didn’t.’
Winfield frowns. ‘There’s been nothing on the news –’
‘No,’ I say. ‘We wanted to speak to Rowan first. Assess her reaction. Based on your observations of her in the last few days, do you think there’s any chance she knew her child had been found?’
Winfield shakes her head slowly. ‘I’m not aware of anything. She’s had no contact with her parents for months, and there’s certainly been no change in her behaviour. And surely the first thing she’d have done is get in touch with her legal team?’
‘There’s no evidence she has?’
‘No, not to my knowledge. Letters like that have to be clearly marked, to ensure they’re not opened for monitoring. We would know.’
‘What about other correspondence?’
She raises an eyebrow. ‘Ah, well, she may not get any visitors, but she certainly gets mail. She has quite the little fan club. She gets half-a-dozen letters a week, I think – sometimes more.’
Quinn gapes at her. ‘Seriously?’
She makes a dismissive gesture. ‘You know what it’s like these days – some people find any sort of celebrity irresistible. When she first went to Holloway they were absolutely inundated – “baby-killer”, “Hope you burn in hell”, that sort of thing. But the vast majority we’ve had here have been from armchair campaigners and amateur Miss Marples, all buying the Netflix line and thinking they’re the ones who will crack the case. Along with the usual slew of sad loner misfits asking her to marry them.’
Quinn snorts. ‘Fuck me, they must be desperate.’
She raises an immaculate eyebrow. ‘Evidently.’
I sit forward. ‘What about more personal communications – from people she actually knows?’
‘I’m not aware of anything. These days we try to avoid reading much prisoner correspondence, unless there’s a very good reason. “Light touch” and all that. But given Rowan’s public profile we do open rather more of hers. Especially anything that looks like a possible candidate for abuse or death threats.’ She gives a dry smile. ‘After a while, you get a long nose for spotting that sort of thing. But as I said, letters like that have tailed off of late. And as far as “official” policy goes, all incoming or outgoing letters can be opened and read at any time, and prisoners are fully aware of that. We do always check mail that includes enclosures, but I don’t recall anything untoward in that respect in relation to Rowan. I would have been informed if there was.’
‘All the same, could we speak to the officer who handles the mail?’
‘Prison officers don’t handle incoming mail. Post-room staff have no contact with prisoners, and there’s no one individual who does it – it’s a team.’
‘Has she written to anyone herself?’
‘Not as far as I’m aware, though again, I’d be happy to check for you.’
‘If you could.’
She looks at me, then at Quinn. ‘So, are you ready for your audience?’
* * *
CONFIDENTIAL
5th March 2003
Marcus Townsend QC
Beauchamp Chambers
Grandison Court
Temple
London WC2J 9GB
Dear Mr Townsend,
I have, as requested, carried out a full psychiatric assessment of Camilla Rowan. It was, I have to say, one of the most difficult assignments I have ever undertaken – I have never encountered a subject who resists normal psychological classification methodology to such an extraordinary extent. I enclose my conclusions, such as they are; frankly, I do not envy you your task.