‘Has he done something in here to warrant that?’ Dani said, though she wasn’t quite sure why she felt the need to stick up for Ben. They could do what the hell they wanted to him.

‘Not at all. This is how we treat all of our highest risk inmates. You’ll see Ben in a private room. You can speak to him alone, if you wish, with someone watching from outside, or you can have a prison officer in the room with you. It’s up to you.’

‘I’d rather speak to him alone,’ Dani said, though she wondered if there was really much difference if someone was watching on a screen or through a one-way mirror.

‘Absolutely,’ Cartwright said. ‘We’ll need to do some formalities first, and then you can see him.’

The ‘formalities’ took another twenty minutes. Dani’s ID was checked. A full body search was conducted. They checked her jewellery over too, apparently looking for any signs that a key was somehow forged into it. Her pockets were emptied; they checked her shoes. They took a photo of her face, took her fingerprints. She was read a long list of what she could and couldn’t take into the room, and of things she could and couldn’t do when seeing her own brother.

Hands to be seen at all times. Remain fully clothed at all times. Don’t sit on the prisoner’s lap. No passing of contraband.

Really? She thought, sarcastically; but what about the weed I brought?

When it was finally over Dani was escorted through corridors and metal-barred doors until finally they arrived outside the interview room. Dani paused. She pushed away the wave of nausea as best she could. Cartwright turned.

‘Are you ok?’

‘I’m fine.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Let’s continue, please.’

Cartwright didn’t look convinced but she turned to the officer by the door, who unlocked and opened it, and ushered Dani inside.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The interview room was much like the ones Dani had been to in countless police stations and prisons in different locations over many years. Ben was already in there, sitting down on one of two chairs in the room, wearing the standard prison garb of blue jogging bottoms and blue jumper. His hands, cuffed together, were on top of the small table in the middle of the room. He looked up at Dani and smiled awkwardly. She couldn’t read what the expression meant. Was it friendly? Or was it calculated and knowing? Taunting, even? Again Dani’s mind took her back to the hospital and all of the stories she’d read about Ben’s crimes and his trial. Diminished responsibility? Yeah right. At least the jury hadn’t bought that crap.

The officer who’d shown Dani in waited for her to take her seat and then promptly left, shutting and locking the thick door behind him.