‘Not that idiot,’ the prisoner muttered to himself. He toyed with muting the TV so he didn’t have to listen again to the voice of the appeal court judge. Waverley had chaired the Parole Board hearing in Wakefield Prison in 2004 that quashed his first appeal for release. He was on his little list, near the top. Wright knew the chambers in London’s Lincoln’s Inn where Waverley had worked and still occasionally returned for drinks and meals with former colleagues.

The patrician features of the elderly lord showed him sitting in a book-lined study. ‘It’s entirely understandable that many people say that a dreadful offender like Rollason should never again see the light of day. However, we have to balance society’s need to punish this man against the important goal of rehabilitation. We must hold out the hope of release for those who admit their crimes and show some remorse. It may not be the most important point, but it is still essential to note that Britain’s overstretched prisons would become ungovernable if those within were offered no hope of release.’

‘Too bloody right,’ muttered Wright. He didn’t yet have a residential address for the noble lord, but once he got to use the Internet, that shouldn’t be too hard.

‘But for some,’ the presenter said, turning back to the camera, ‘revenge is much more important than rehabilitation.’ The screen then showed a silhouette of a man against a drawn curtain. He appeared to be wearing a jacket and a baseball cap. The presenter’s voiceover lowered to a conspiratorial whisper: ‘This man, who we are calling Dave, is a vigilante. He belonged for several years to one of many organisations that are involved in the entrapment of child abusers. These organisations normally pass on information to the police. However, Dave and some of his friends have a more radical agenda, one which would put them the wrong side of the law. I arranged to meet Dave in the back room of a pub in the Midlands. His words are spoken by an actor to protect his identity.’

‘It is wrong that evil men like Neville Rollason should ever be released from prison,’ the actor’s voice said, softly. ‘He’s never really been punished, has he? Prison isn’t really a punishment any more. Those segregation cells are luxury, really. They have TV and books and everything.’

‘What are your plans?’ the presenter asked. Wright thought he detected a note of eagerness in his voice.

‘Well, let’s put it this way. After we’ve finished with him, he won’t be up to any more of his old tricks.’

‘Is that a threat of violence?’

There was a laugh. ‘You can take it any way you want. But it will be justice.’

Wright snarled and pointed a finger at the screen as if the vigilante could hear him. ‘You’ll not get me, mate.’