It had become clear over the course of interrogating the ring’s members that not only was Sandra in charge but that she’d also seemed to know where her collaborators were and what they were doing without ever leaving her house in Richmond. Montcalm had indeed spent most of the cash he received from the KGB via the Hornes drinking and gambling his way up and down the country, creating a vicious circle of debt and addiction that always led him back to London and Calder Hall. As for Slaughter, he’d maintained throughout his questioning that he had no idea he was working for the Russians. In fact, the security guard claimed he’d been slipping secrets to the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament in exchange for money to supplement his meagre income.

But Knox hadn’t come to Holloway to push Sandra for information about Slaughter or Montcalm.

‘I want to know about Cecil Court,’ he said.

‘Oh.’ The broad smile was back. ‘That.’

‘I want to know who was leaving the messages.’

‘Well, I wish I could tell you, dearie. But I’m afraid my memory isn’t what it was.’

‘Sounds terrible.’

‘I’m serious. It’s the chloral they give us. Supposed to help us sleep, but half the poor loves in here can’t remember what day it is, let alone why they’re banged up. It’s sinful.’

‘I’m sure it is,’ Knox replied. He had grilled Horne enough to know he’d have to play her game, but he wanted to shorthand it as much as possible. ‘And what do you think would help jog your memory?’

Sandra leaned back in her seat, relishing the small piece of power she held over Knox.

‘A stop to that chemical nonsense for a start. I just need some lavender on my pillows to help me sleep. Cotton pillows, stuffed with goose down, of course.’

‘Of course.’

‘Lord knows what the linens are made of in here, but they aren’t very homely.’

‘I don’t think they’re meant to be.’

Horne’s smile turned cold again. ‘Maybe for everyone else. But I’m different, aren’t I? I’m special. And you want me to be comfortable.’

Knox nodded. ‘Tell me about Cecil Court and I’ll see what I can do.’

‘Oh, dearie, you know that’s not how this works. Get me a good night’s sleep and then we can see if I remember anything about that ghost of yours.’

Knox knew if he pushed her there was every chance she’d shut down and not tell him anything. He might be in no position to give Horne anything officially, but she didn’t know that, and there were always ways to get things into a prison—even into high-security solitary confinement—unofficially.