The Network (4 page)

***

Three uneventful days later and the prison block was almost beginning to feel normal for Sean – the daily routine of up at six-thirty, a shower for those who wanted one, breakfast, TV and games, lunch, TV and games, dinner, TV and games, lock-down. He’d spoken briefly with some of the other inmates – all of whom swore they were innocent of crimes that ranged from minor sexual assaults to sexually motivated murder. He’d let it be known that he stood accused of sexually assaulting a child, although he’d been deliberately sparing with the details and had of course proclaimed his innocence. He knew it would only be a matter of time before the more influential inmates came calling, eager to vicariously re-live his crimes for their own gratification. All he had to do was bide his time and keep teasing the other inmates with his secrecy. If he approached Conway directly he would almost certainly be treated with mistrust, and infiltration would be all but impossible.

He’d walked from his cell to the shower area in his boxer-shorts, his towel over one shoulder and wash-bag in hand, trying to ignore the looks of admiration some of the inmates gave him. His slim, muscular body not the norm in the block reserved for those on Rule Forty-Three. Two other men were already in the shower as he removed his shorts and hung them and the towel on a peg provided. He was careful not to make eye contact with either of them for fear of provoking a reaction, and stepped into the hot water, washing himself as quickly as he could without appearing to rush, using his body-wash just as sparingly as the other inmates, closing his eyes to rinse his face – a dangerous time for any prisoner, Rule Forty-Three or otherwise. When he opened them again the other two men in the shower had left, taking their towels and wash-bags with them before they’d had a chance to dry themselves. He sensed a presence behind him – watching him.

He spun round instinctively, betraying his anxiety and fear, adrenalin suddenly pumping into his body. Through the slight steam of the shower room he could see a tall, slim figure moving towards him, fair, naked skin marking him out from the dark, clothed figures that hung back as the spectre came close enough to be recognized – John Conway, drifting closer and closer. Sean slowly turned his back to the nightmare vision to hide the terror in his eyes, caused not by any fear of Conway, but by the horror of what he might do when he felt the touch of Conway’s hand on his own body.

The breathing too close behind him made him turn and try to head for the exit, but Conway’s hand gently pressed against Sean’s chest with just enough force to prevent his escape. Before he could think, his hand coiled around Conway’s wrist, ready to bend his arm up behind his back then take hold of Conway’s scalp and thrust his face repeatedly into the metal taps. Somehow he managed to stop himself, allowing his fingers to relax around the other man’s wrist.

‘Leaving so soon?’ Conway asked in an accent-less, soft, but seductive voice – the voice he used to reassure and persuade his young victims.

‘I’m all finished here,’ Sean told him, swallowing the bitterness in his mouth.

‘Are you sure?’ Conway persisted.

‘I’m sure.’

‘Shame,’ Conway snapped back, ‘because I’ve been watching you ever since you arrived and I could have sworn you’ve been watching me.’

What did he know?

‘No,’ Sean lied. ‘It’s just that I know you. I know who you are.’

‘And I know who you are,’ Conway countered. ‘I make it my business to know everybody in this happy little holiday home of ours.’

‘Then who am I?’ Sean asked, heart racing, the sound of blood torrents deafening in his own head.

‘Don’t you know who you are?’ Conway asked with a smile. ‘You’re Justin Cramer, aren’t you?’

‘I am,’ Sean answered, staring hard into Conway’s eyes, looking for some sign Conway might know who he really was. But his eyes were like a shark’s – lifeless. They betrayed nothing. ‘And you’re John Conway.’

‘So you know my name,’ Conway said with a shrug. ‘Everybody in here knows who I am.’

‘But I know you from the outside,’ Sean continued, Conway’s hand still on his chest as his minders looked on through the steam, unable to hear their conversation above the sound of the shower. ‘I know you from The Network.’ He peeled Conway’s hand from his chest and waited for a reaction.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Conway answered with a smile. ‘I’ve never heard of any Network.’

‘My Network key is The Unicorn – check it out, and when you come to my cell later, I’ll have something for you – to see you through for a while.’

‘And what would that be?’ Conway asked, his lips swelling with excitement, his eyes narrowing with suspicion, but also anticipation.

‘You’ll see,’ Sean promised as he pushed past him, Conway’s fingers curling around his bicep to stop him.

‘Are you sure you have to go? No one will disturb us.’

‘Let’s just say you’re a little older than my usual.’

‘Sometimes needs must.’

‘I haven’t been in here long enough for that,’ Sean explained, ‘and I don’t intend to be.’

‘Lucky you,’ Conway told him, releasing his arm. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘You know where to find me,’ Sean reminded him, fighting the rising nausea sweeping through his body, ‘and I promise you – you won’t be disappointed.’

***

Sean sat alone in his cell reading a copy of the
Sun
that had already been censored by the prison psychiatrist. All images that could be deemed to be stimulating to Rule Forty-Three Prisoners had been removed – pictures of children enjoying the sun wearing nothing but bikinis and swim-shorts, some even less. He looked at the pages, but read and saw nothing as he waited for Conway to take the bait. Having Conway make a play for him sexually hadn’t been part of the plan, but it could turn out to be useful – so long as Sean could handle it. Shortly after lunch a long shadow was cast into the cell. Sean turned his head towards Conway and faked a smile, trying to appear meek enough not to scare Conway off. Conway didn’t tolerate superiors or even equals.

‘Mind if I come in?’ Conway asked politely.

‘Be my guest.’ He entered slowly and sat on the bunk next to Sean, his eyes moving up and down Sean’s torso as he rested a hand on his shoulder. Sean shivered involuntarily and could only hope Conway hadn’t felt his tremor, or had misinterpreted it.

‘So,’ Conway asked, ‘what is it that you have for me?’

‘Well it’s not that,’ Sean answered. ‘Like I said, you’re a little too old for my tastes.’

‘A pity,’ Conway told him sliding his hand from Sean’s shoulder, ‘but if not that, then what?’ Sean began to look around himself, making it obvious to Conway he needed to be careful before he revealed whatever it was he valued so much. ‘No need to worry – my friends are watching out for us.’ Sean could sense the other men waiting outside the cell, watching for any approaching prison officers. ‘We’re quite safe.’ Without speaking Sean stood and crossed the cell, peeling back a poster of a computer game to reveal a white envelope blu-tacked to the wall underneath it. He snatched the envelope away and replaced the corner of the poster, walking back across the cell and sitting close to Conway, trying to act as he believed Justin Cramer would act, passing the envelope to Conway with a nervous grin. ‘And what’s this?’ Conway asked.

‘Take a look inside,’ Sean told him, blinking his eyes rapidly to feign excitement, tapping his foot repeatedly for the same effect. ‘You won’t be disappointed.’

Conway opened the unsealed envelope and peeked inside. ‘Well, well. What do we have here?’ He pulled out the small stack of photographs and flicked through them like they were a deck of cards, showing no trace of emotion as he caught glimpses of the naked children – in the bath, on the beach, the swimming pool, getting ready for bed. ‘How did you get these?’

‘I have a friend who works for an online photo album company. People send their digital photographs to them and they...’

‘Make them into photo albums,’ Conway interrupted. ‘I know the sort of thing you mean. Keepsakes for happy families. Do you have a happy family waiting for you, Justin? When you get out of this stinking dungeon?’

‘No,’ Sean answered, ‘but you already knew that, didn’t you? You know everything.’

‘All I know about the Unicorn is that he is part of The Network and that his real name is Justin Cramer.’

‘Me,’ Sean lied.

‘Maybe,’ Conway told him, sending more electrical shivers down his spine, ‘but as I have never met The Unicorn in person, then I can’t be sure who he really is, can I?’

‘I don’t understand,’ Sean told him trying to look confused.

‘Don’t you?’ Conway asked quickly, searching deep into Sean’s eyes, his own pupils vibrating as they looked for signs of betrayal.

‘You’re confusing me,’ Sean lied again.

‘Am I?’ Conway asked, resting a hand on Sean’s thigh, ‘then I’m sorry, but all will become clear in time.’
What did he know? What did he know?
‘But for now you’ll need to find a better place to keep these.’ He slid the photographs back into the envelope and tapped them with his finger. ‘If your cell gets searched it won’t take long to find them, which I don’t suppose would help your court case, would it?’

‘I want you to have them,’ Sean told him.

‘These are a valuable commodity in here, Justin. What do you want in return?’

‘Nothing,’ Sean answered, forcing himself to be patient, suppressing his cop instincts to drive for the truth and evidence to convict. Conway had to come to him. ‘Not yet.’

Conway stood and eyed him with suspicion. ‘You don’t smoke do you?’

‘No,’ Sean answered. Conway pulled an unopened packet of rolling tobacco from his pocket and tossed into Sean’s lap.

‘That’s worth a lot of credit in here,’ he explained. ‘If you don’t smoke, all the better. You can swap it for phone-cards, toiletries, pretty much anything.’

‘Thank you.’

Conway waved the envelope at him. ‘No, Justin – thank you.’ He gave one last smile and floated from the cell, his minders falling in line behind him.

Sean slumped back on the bunk. The brief meeting had left him feeling physically and mentally exhausted. ‘Jesus Christ. What the fuck am I doing here?’

Sean walked beside Conway while two minders guarded his front and two more his back. The sad column of Rule Forty-Three prisoners shuffled towards the door that led to a holding-pen from which they could make their way into the small exercise yard beyond. Three prison guards accompanied them, their brief to ensure none of the main prison population could get to the men who needed special protection – the rapists and sex offenders, the informants and disgraced ex-cops, although Sean was thankful there were none of those amongst them today. Over the last two weeks Conway had grown increasingly friendly towards him, but more in the way someone might become gradually more affectionate to the stray dog he’d planned on taking in only temporarily than man-to-man, human-to-human, and each time Sean tried to bring up the subject of The Network, no matter how subtly, Conway moved the conversation on. He constantly reminded himself of the need to remain patient and not panic and move too fast. Conway could be and probably was testing him out – seeing how long he remained in prison, no doubt sure that if he was a cop he would have only stayed for a few days – a quick-fire undercover operation looking for fast, cheap information, not as it was now, almost three weeks. Conway was beginning to relax – a little – allowing Sean to inch closer and closer to the core of The Network, but the time living as a prisoner amongst paedophiles and sex offenders was beginning to take its toll, his isolation from the real world dragging him further and further into a melancholy depression. At least most of the other prisoners around him seemed equally solemn – except Conway.

He’d only managed to speak to Kate twice on the phone – their conversations stunted and impromptu-coded. She knew he’d be going undercover for a while, during which time they wouldn’t be able to see each other, but they’d only met a few months previously and she didn’t know enough about him to trust him completely yet. For all she knew he could be tucked up in some semi-detached in Sidcup with his wife and kids. If she put up with this, he decided, she’d put up with anything. Conway’s voice pulled him back inside the prison.

‘Stay close to me and the others,’ Conway warned him. ‘The exercise yard can be a dangerous place. The screws should have cleared it of the other prisoners, the ones who think themselves better than us, but you can never trust the screws fully.’ He made no effort to avoid being heard by the nearby prison guards. ‘You never know who may have bribed them to leave a door unlocked here or a window open there.’

‘Alright, Conway,’ the nearest guard said. ‘That’s enough of that nonsense.’

Conway ignored him. ‘You see, we’re big prizes. If one of them can in some way injure one of us, or worse, then they’ll become quite a star in their pathetic little world. So keep your eyes open and stay close.’

‘I will,’ Sean promised. ‘Thanks.’

The column concertinaed together as they reached the holding pen and waited for the lead guard to select a single key from the huge bunch attached to his waistband and open the door, bumping and squeezing together as they passed through the narrow entrance. Sean tried to shrug the tension from his shoulders, readying himself for the attack on Conway he knew was coming, but couldn’t warn him about as they stood huddled together like a nervous flock of sheep, those on the outskirts of the human herd more exposed and therefore more frightened. If the pre-arranged scenario went well, Sean’s cover would be truly cemented.

The same guard took another key from the huge bunch and opened the door to the exercise yard, his head peeping inside before swinging back into the holding area. ‘Clear,’ he shouted to his colleagues before addressing the prisoners the main population of inmates called ‘the Lepers’. ‘Alright you lot, it’s all yours. In you go. You only get an hour a week so make it count.’ They started to move through the door into the yard, the stronger, dominant prisoners pushing the lowest ranking through first, so that they would trigger any planned attack and bear the consequences. But as no such assault came the men began to relax, flowing more freely through the oblong entrance.