‘Ninety-nine per cent,’ said Bailey.

‘And if you’re wrong?’

Bailey gave a grimace that made it quite clear what the consequences of her mistake could be. She looked down at the keys in her hand, the ones she had taken from Terry. She held them out to Amber.

‘Take them. This is how much I trust you, Amber. I’m putting our lives in your hands.’

Amber gave Bailey a nod of respect, took the keys and pocketed them. She turned to Poppy and held her hand out for the shank.

‘I’ll have to confiscate that, I’m afraid. If what Bailey’s saying is true and we can find the well, then you won’t be needing it anyhow.’

Poppy hesitated. She looked to Bailey for confirmation. Bailey nodded and Poppy reluctantly handed the shank to Amber, who put it in her pocket.

‘Okay,’ said Amber. ‘Let’s go to the laundry and get this mess cleaned up.’

Chapter 107

All was dark on the other side of the small glass window. Bailey stood in the corridor and peered into the laundry alongside the other two. She was glad she’d managed to convince Amber, but the three of them still had a long way to go if they wanted to get themselves out of here alive.

Amber gave Bailey a sceptical glance. She looked at her watch.

She began to fiddle with the large bunch of keys that were attached to her belt by a chain. They clinked as she went through them one by one.

‘I think this one should do it,’ she said, holding up a long old-fashioned copper-coloured key.

She inserted it into the lock and turned it.

Click.

Clack.

She twisted the door handle, pushed open the door and stepped inside.

Reaching to her right, she flicked the light switch. The halogen strip lighting flickered on down the length of the room, filling it with a harsh artificial light.

Bailey and Poppy stepped inside. The door swung closed behind them.

Amber turned to face Bailey and folded her arms.

‘The ball’s in your court now.’

Bailey surveyed the laundry – the silent rows of washing machines and dryers… the canvas-sided trolleys piled with mesh bags full of dirty items… the bed sheets hanging up by the racking… the tangle of pipes and ducts running along the walls and ceiling… the clumps of lint which dotted the tiled floor…

She breathed slowly in and out, detecting the faint acrid smell of detergent.

Suddenly she didn’t feel so sure any more.

‘I don’t see any well in here,’ said Poppy in a quiet voice, as if reading Bailey’s thoughts.

‘It has to be in here,’ she said, gritting her teeth.

She scanned the room again, from the doorway right down to the far end, scrutinising every detail, but nothing jumped out at her.

‘What are we looking for exactly?’ asked Amber.

‘It’s an old disused well. Like it says on the door, this place used to be the water supply room for the prison. The well supplied the water.’