Crucified

Chapter 12

Janet was discussing Middleton with Doctor Zardari.

‘Do you think he was trying to commit suicide?’ Dr Zardari asked.

She shook her head. ‘Accidental overdose, I reckon. Men like him are too narcissistic to kill themselves.’

Dr Zardari sighed heavily. ‘And where’s this stuff coming from?’

Janet’s face gave nothing away. ‘Good God, smuggling’s rife. Visitors bring all sorts in, hidden in all sorts of places! It’ll be happening right under our noses.’ Janet didn’t need to dissuade Zardari from the idea of someone smuggling drugs in for Middleton, as long as he never imagined it could be her. In truth, Janet knew that the perfect scapegoat was already in the mix.

Amanda Dunn had spent two months in Holloway for a minor offence. She was bullied throughout her stay and had come to Janet to be patched up on a couple of occasions. She quickly saw that Amanda was weak, easily manipulated and destined to make terrible mistake after terrible mistake. Regardless, she always had hopeful eyes. This is what Janet recognised through the disguise she wore when visiting Middleton. Here she was again, doing the bidding of a murderer. If they thought someone else was involved in Middleton’s death, it wouldn’t be Janet they homed in on. It would be Amanda.

Janet looked at her watch. She was on early evening duty, delivering medication from their secure annexe, and the prisoners were starting to line up in the corridor before, one by one, they came to the small security booth, protected by a Perspex screen with an open stainless-steel section for the medication to be passed through in small paper cups. The evening deliveries often ended in violent arguments as prisoners complained that their dosages of painkillers had been lowered, or they were no longer being prescribed sleeping tablets.

Janet was ready for Middleton with his cup containing the weaker painkillers prescribed since his ‘overdose’.

‘Rodney, we’re putting you on a lower dose of the same medication to see how it deals with your back pain. If it doesn’t help, then you will need an appointment to see the doctor tomorrow.’

Middleton kicked the base of the booth and the officer standing by took a step closer.

‘You take these for tonight, Rodney, and see how you go.’ Janet passed him the small paper cup containing two large white capsules, then handed him a paper cone-shaped cup with water. She watched Middleton tip the capsules into his mouth, sip the water and then open his mouth and lift his tongue to show they’d been swallowed.

‘Thank you, Rodney.’

Middleton leered at her before he turned away to be taken back to his cell. The next prisoner stepped up, and Janet continued dishing out the meds. She would be off duty in another few hours, knowing that Josh would call for an update as he always did each evening. Just thinking about him made her come out in a sweat, but so far, it was going to plan. She had five more days to slowly up the dosage before administering the fatal one.

Jack knew he would be in for a grilling from Maggie as he’d been gone nearly all afternoon. But when he walked into the kitchen, excuses at the ready, there was another sort of drama going on. Hannah was having a major meltdown, screaming and crying, thrashing about on the floor.

‘She’s been like this since we told her she can’t have a puppy, so you can take over, Jack, because we are both drained,’ Maggie said.

Hannah kicked out with her legs, her head buried in her arms, wailing. Jack squatted down beside her, relieved he wasn’t being interrogated about his absence. Hannah slowly lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, her cheeks puffy. When she saw Jack, she lifted both arms to wrap around him.

‘You said I could have a puppy, didn’t you, Daddy?’

‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You did. You said when I’m older. And I’m older now. You promised. You did. Yes you did!’

Jack had never seen his little daughter in such a ferocious temper. She was definitely beyond the point of no return as she flailed with both arms, her hands bunched in little fists, trying her best to punch him.

‘I hate you!’

Jack rolled away from her, curling up and howling,

‘That hurt me, you hurt me, how could you be so nasty to me.’

Hannah crawled over to him, and, to his astonishment, she gave him another punch. He had thought she would be devastated to think she had hurt her daddy, but clearly that was not the case. He jumped up and scooped her into his arms. She struggled and screamed, kicking him in the nuts, almost making him drop her as he marched into the hall. Holding her under one arm, he managed to open the new closet that Marius had built under the stairs and pushed Hannah inside as she let loose with a screaming howl. Jack drew the small bolt across the door as Hannah let loose a screaming howl, banging and kicking at the closed door.

‘Listen to me, Hannah. You will stay in there until you are quiet, and I will not let you out until you have apologised.’

There was silence and then a pitiful wailing as Hannah screamed for her mummy. Then, between sobs, she said she was sorry. Jack felt something suddenly swamping him, a memory of darkness that consumed and terrified him. The cries from inside the cupboard brought everything flooding back as he pulled the bolt back and lifted his daughter out. He remained on his knees, rocking her in his arms, asking over and over for her to forgive him, promising he would never ever lock her in there again. She clung to him, exhausted, pressing her face into his neck as she gradually calmed.

‘I’m sorry, Daddy, I don’t want a puppy anymore.’

‘Listen to me, Hannah, I am sorry. One day I promise you will have a puppy.’ He lifted her in his arms and she smiled, kissing him frantically.

‘I love you, Daddy,’ she said, bright-eyed.

‘I love you more,’ he said, his voice cracking.

His heart raced as she wriggled out of his arms, as if the incident had been instantly forgotten, and ran up the stairs. He slowly felt his heart rate slowing, his breathing steadying as he entered the dining room, closed the door, slumped in an easy chair and put his head in his hands.

Jack had been in the same position for ten minutes before Maggie walked in. ‘Well, you’ve done it now, promising Hannah a puppy. Penny and I have been adamant about telling her she can’t have one. Why on earth did you tell her she could...’

Jack sat back in the chair and Maggie knew instinctively something was very wrong. She quickly went to him and bent forward, looking into his face.

‘What is it, Jack? You’re shaking.’

He sighed. ‘I just did an unforgivable thing. When Hannah punched and kicked me, I grabbed her and chucked her into the closet under the stairs. I locked her in.’

‘Oh God Jack, that was... So, it was a guilt promise from you. Not exactly teaching her the right way to behave, is it?’

‘You don’t understand,’ he said, turning away, his chest heaving.

She sat beside him, taking his hand. He tried to pull it away, but she tightened her grip.

‘Tell me what it is, Jack. Explain to me what happened to make you like this.’

He remained silent for a long time, leaning against her shoulder, trying to find the right words. Something buried deep inside him had just been released, a torment he had never allowed to surface until now. Just as he had calmed Hannah, gently rocking her in his arms, Maggie now cradled him with both her arms around him, his head still buried in her shoulder.

His voice sounded hoarse when he eventually started to talk, as if each word caused him pain. He was at the care home, no more than four or five, when it started. He recalled how he cried for his mother, not wanting to eat or sleep, and that was when the punishment had started. Jack had been locked in a cupboard in the cellar of the old house, for hours and hours, left in the dank darkness, and if, when he was eventually released, he continued to be disobedient, he would be beaten. He could not recollect how long the terror had dominated his life, always afraid of being shut away, and that he would never be let out.

‘Dear God, how long did this go on for?’ Maggie asked.

‘Until I was fostered. Not many families wanted a boy my age, especially one they thought had mental health issues. Mum and Dad saved me, and for the first time I was shown love. I had never known any kind of affection, and for a long time, I was terrified they would send me back. So, I always tried to be a good boy.’ Jack sighed, unable to believe what he had done to his daughter.

Maggie, however, saw a positive in what had just happened. She was certain now that Jack’s nightmares stemmed from his childhood. Maggie didn’t want to talk anymore about what Jack had done to Hannah, she just held him tight.

‘It’s over. Hannah will be fine. And you’re going to be fine.’

He smiled and nodded, finally feeling he could breathe properly again. ‘Thank you.’

‘Oh, by the way,’ Maggie said, ‘me and your mum employed a nice lady called Gladys today. Five mornings a week. She’s from Ghana and has the most amazing dreadlocks. She was the best one by a mile.’

‘Great,’ Jack said before heading upstairs to see if Hannah really was OK.

Maggie sat for a minute, wondering if Jack had told her the whole story. Had he been sexually abused too? It would not be uncommon where physical and psychological abuse were present. She was happy that Jack had shared his memory... but was now worried what other issues were going to come out into the open.

An odd side effect of what Janet was doing to Rodney Middleton was that he had become a far more pleasant man to deal with. He was not as aggressive and had even started to take an interest in the art department. But Janet knew it wouldn’t last.

She was on duty more often than not and was therefore usually the one who administered his white capsules. These were a growing cocktail of fentanyl and xylazine, plus his Ibuprofen, plus whatever his girlfriend might be smuggling in for him. Janet didn’t care about Amanda fucking Dunn. She’d got away with murder, quite literally, so if she got dragged into any investigation into Middleton’s death, Janet wasn’t going to lose any sleep over that.

Middleton was also now seeing the on-duty medics in relation to a wound that had appeared on his right leg, which had to be cleaned and dressed daily. He could not recall falling or hurting himself, but Janet made sure it was documented that when he over-dosed, he could easily have fallen and not known about it.

Josh insisted on daily updates on her progress, and every call made her nervous because time was running out before her departure. Middleton was changing daily, becoming more addicted to his cocktail of drugs while his leg wound slowly changed from a scratch into an ulcerated hole. Janet worked hard at being the medic who most frequently dealt with Middleton, so that she could monitor his reaction to the drugs.

As Josh’s return date to New York got closer, he started pushing Janet to administer more fentanyl and xylazine as he wanted the job done before he left the UK.

‘I can kill him in the blink of an eye, Josh, with one special capsule,’ she told him. ‘But you wanted him to suffer. We have just under one more week. Let’s use it.’

After their conversation, Josh put in a call to Laura at the station asking if Jack had returned to work yet.

‘He’s expected next week,’ she told him. ‘Everyone’s really looking forward to seeing him. How’s the tour going?’

‘I’ve just got two more events before I go back to London, then home,’ he told her. ‘It would be good to see you...’

As he’d hoped, she offered to let him stay at her flat.

On Portobello Road, Marius and Jack had spent the morning stacking the van with the larger items they’d bought at the stalls: bookcases, large ceramic pots, a bed and two shelving units. It was already looking full, so they reckoned they’d need another trip for what remained. Marius fancied a bacon roll and coffee, so Jack said he’d check on the mattresses Maggie wanted, then they could meet back at the van.

Heading along Portobello Road, Jack stopped to enquire at a small shop selling beds. They didn’t have the right size in stock but would have a big delivery the following day and would likely have the one he wanted then. He was about to head back to the van when he did a U-turn, heading further down Portobello to the framer’s. The door was open, letting in enough light so that he could see inside. It was stacked to the ceiling with frames, but Jack’s attention was immediately taken by a massive cross dominating the entire room, looking like a theatrical or movie prop. Jack edged further into the shop, looking over the mountain of frames. He bent down to check one.

‘What you lookin’ for?’

Jack turned. The man leaning on the doorframe from the inner room was the one he had seen selling frames to Adam.

‘I have an unframed picture and was just checking if one of these might be suitable.’

‘What size?’

‘Ah, that’s me being stupid. I don’t actually have the measurements with me.’

‘Then come back when you do. We’re not open right now, we’re just waiting for a delivery.’ He was very muscular, about the same height as Jack, wearing dirty denim overalls with a washed-out T-shirt beneath. His balding head boasted the odd strand of greasy blond hair.

‘Thanks, I’ll do that.’

‘Only open Saturday from ten till two.’

Jack gestured to the massive cross. ‘That’s really something, isn’t it?’ For the first time, he noticed the heavy black chains hooked to a ring at the back of it. ‘Have to have a big room to stand that in.’

He received a cold glare from the man’s small, flinty eyes. He obviously didn’t want to have any further conversation... which was enough to make Jack continue.

‘It’s probably from a theatrical production, I suppose. I can’t remember if they had a big cross in Jesus Christ Superstar. Or maybe from a biblical epic?’

Jack received another dismissive stare, so he backed away towards the entrance. ‘This your shop?’

‘No, I just work here. Shut the door on your way out.’

‘Do you have a card?’ Jack persisted, ‘Maybe when I get home and measure the picture, I could ring to find out if you have a frame that’d fit.’

‘No cards. Go on, out now, mate.’

Jack nodded and smiled as he left, closing the door behind him. As he made his way back to Marius and the van, he paused, wondering if he should have said he was Adam Border’s friend. He also thought there was a possibility that Adam could have ordered the cross for his new painting.

‘Hurry please, Jack,’ Marius shouted as Jack approached, ‘I need to get everything unloaded. I have a job this afternoon.’

‘Sorry, I was asking about mattresses. Might be coming in tomorrow.’

‘I can’t do it tomorrow. It’ll have to be the day after.’

‘Fine by me. I can help... I don’t start work until Monday.’

By the time they had unloaded the van and carried everything up to the loft extension, Jack was hungry. A note on the kitchen table informed Jack that Penny was out with Hannah, and Maggie had taken Charlie to the clinic for his check-up. The large ceramic planters stood empty beside the plants Maggie had ordered. So Jack decided he would surprise her.

When Maggie arrived home, she was thrilled to see all her plants in their new pots, looking wonderful. She chose not to point out that, now full of soil, they’d be much harder to move into place. Jack rolled the pots on the rims of their base as Maggie directed him into the conservatory, where he left the planters on either side of the sliding doors into the garden. ‘Kew Gardens has got nothing on us,’ he joked.

Jack felt in good spirits. Whether or not it was connected to opening up about what happened to him at the care home, he just didn’t know. What he did know was that he was looking forward to returning to work.

When Maggie went upstairs to bathe and feed Charlie, Jack ducked into his office and started Googling the stolen painting Adam had told him about. There it was: Caravaggio’s Nativity with Saint Francis and Saint Lawrence, painted in 1609, stolen from the altar of the church in Palermo. One article provided the exact measurements — explaining why Adam had been searching so long for a canvas measuring eight feet eleven inches in length and six feet five and a half inches in width.

Apparently the whole city celebrated when the copy was put in its place, but the worldwide search for the missing master-piece went on. Some people believed the Mafia had stolen it to use as a bargaining tool in exchange for the release of jailed Mafiosi, then it had been burnt when it became too dangerous to hide. Witnesses had come forward to say they had seen it rolled up in a carpet, while others maintained it was hanging in a Mafia don’s villa.

Jack’s phone rang. It was Laura calling to ask if he would like to join her for dinner when Josh returned to London, as she had offered to let him stay before he returned to New York.

‘That would be great, Laura, thanks. If his staying with you is... awkward... last time he was here, he slept on a blow-up mattress, but now we have a loft extension. Up to you.’

‘Wow, you’ve been busy!’ Laura laughed.

‘You wouldn’t believe the work that’s been going on here. As well as the loft, we now have a kitchen twice the size with a sort of conservatory attached.’

‘No wonder you’ve not come back to work.’

‘Truth is, I’ve just been a bystander. Maggie did all the planning, and my mother’s boyfriend and his mates did all the work.’

‘How’s the new baby?’

‘Charlie is fabulous. Maggie is organising a christening celebration. You’ll be invited, of course.’

‘I’m looking forward to seeing the baby and you on Monday. We’ve all missed you.’ Laura hesitated. ‘Is everything all right now?’

‘Yeah, terrific.’

‘It’s not been very exciting around here without you. Heard anything from Ridley?’

‘Nope, not a whisper. I’m sure one day he’ll just turn up.’

‘See you Monday. Love to Maggie.’ Laura hung up.

Jack sat staring at the laptop. It did feel strange at times not to have heard from Ridley, but it had now been so long that, in truth, he rarely thought about him. He hoped that wherever he was, he was enjoying his retirement. He returned to reading up about the Caravaggio. If the Mafia were involved in the disappearance of the original, Adam would have to be very careful.