Better safe than sorry. He picked up the phone.

‘Yes, what is it?’ he said brusquely.

‘I have a journalist here on the line,’ replied the switchboard operator. ‘Shall I put her through?’

‘A journalist?’ He felt a bite of anxiety. ‘What does she want?’

‘She wants to know if you have any comment on the story that’s in today’s paper.’

‘Story? What story?’

Chapter 67

Sitting by herself in the corner of the canteen, Bailey absently pushed the spaghetti carbonara around on her plate and reflected on how quickly they’d cleaned up the mess in the kitchen after Sharon’s death. The scene of crime officers had finished their business with admirable speed and minimal disruption to the inmates’ feeding routine. It was impressive, if rather clinical.

She looked up from her pasta to see Mel limping along holding a tray of food, her frizzy hair bobbing up and down, her big brown eyes rolling nervously from side to side.

A feeling had started to grow in Bailey that Mel wasn’t just some headcase. Sure she was unhinged, but there was something more to her, Bailey was certain. Mel knew something. She knew something about the murders. Any mention of scalping seemed to set her off, like that time she had suddenly stormed out of the canteen. Of course, Alice – her cellmate, who she’d liked – had been murdered in a particularly brutal fashion, and Mel did smoke way too much dope, but Bailey sensed that her reactions stemmed from something deeper and more significant than either of these things. Locked inside that crazy head of hers was some vital piece of information and Bailey was determined to find out what it was.

Someone sat down next to her, breaking her train of thought. It was Keisha. Then Rong sat down. Then Muscles. And then Poppy.

They bantered for a bit, distracting her from her observations of Mel.

After a short while, Toni came and joined them. She looked tense and preoccupied. They all fell silent. They knew better than to speak up when she was in a mood like this.

She looked like she was going to say something. They waited expectantly.

She scanned the canteen suspiciously then, turning her attention back to them, spoke in a very low voice, almost a whisper. ‘Turns out that fucking bitch was Old Bill.’

A preliminary chill shot through Bailey.

‘Who?’ said Keisha.

‘Remember that one who got it in the laundry a while back?’

‘She was a cop?!’ exclaimed Poppy.

‘No shit!’ growled Rong.

‘A fucking pig?!’

‘That fucking bitch!’

‘How did you find that out?’ asked Bailey, attempting to keep her voice level.

‘It was in today’s paper,’ said Toni. ‘Apparently the police tried to cover up her death, so her family went to the newspaper. Turns out that she was undercover right here in this prison.’

‘An undercover cop,’ muttered Keisha, glancing around apprehensively. ‘If there was one, there could be more. Sitting in here right now. We could be surrounded by them.’