‘What about forensics? DNA? Surely that must have thrown up something.’

‘Inconclusive. Just like with the other two. When it comes to DNA, there’s just too much opportunity for cross-contamination to make it a reliable source of evidence. Even in segregation, Natalie’s clothes, her bedding, her food, could have come into contact with numerous members of staff and inmates through a variety of means.’

Maggie came over to Bailey and tapped her wristwatch, indicating that her time was almost up. Bailey nodded and smiled, waiting until she’d moved away before continuing.

‘The fact that she was murdered in segregation means that they’re sending a clear message that no one is safe from them,’ she said.

‘If a member of staff is involved, then we need to find some way to narrow it down. Currently there are just too many contenders and not enough information to pinpoint any one of them as a feasible suspect.’

Maggie had come back again and was now gesturing for her to tie up the call.

‘Look I have to go now,’ said Bailey. ‘I’ll do my best.’

And she hung up.

Chapter 46

Amber patrolled slowly around the edge of the canteen keeping a watchful eye on the inmates as they ate their dinner. It looked like chilli con carne was on the menu and the smell of it made her mouth water.

Dylan had been in here a few moments earlier, revealing the secrets of his special guacamole recipe to her, a side dish he said he always liked to make when he had chilli. Somehow he’d ended up making her laugh even though it was just guacamole he’d been talking about. Something about putting so much salt in it that you’d have a stroke before you’d even finished eating it. He was a ladies’ man, no doubt about that. He had that twinkle in his eye. And she knew when someone was trying to chat her up. Still, she didn’t mind. She was kind of flattered. He was quite handsome, she supposed. And, anyhow, it temporarily lightened the grim atmosphere that had been enveloping the prison of late. But now that he’d excused himself to go off somewhere, she was all by herself in here and once again she felt that ubiquitous aura of unease descend upon her.

Although everything seemed outwardly calm, there was an indefinable sense of something else in the air. A tension, like that atmospheric electricity you felt in your skin just prior to a thunderstorm.

She knew what it was of course. The recent spate of murders had really put the wind up the inmates, made them more fearful, more uptight than normal. She had noticed that there had been more flare-ups of late, attributable no doubt to this heightened state of agitation. With each new killing, the tension seemed to ratchet up another notch.

Amber checked her watch. It was 18:35. Just under an hour and a half left on today’s shift. She began to run her mind through what she’d do once she got home—