Killing with Confetti

34

Statement from Prisoner A, taken at HMP Chelmsford, 8 December, 2015:

‘I was in C wing at Bream when the riot happened. Conditions was bad there. We was banged up for hours and the food was crap and most of them was doing drugs, but I been in worse. The first I heard of what was going to happen was someone (I forget who) telling me Warren on the middle landing wanted to see me. Warren is a silent guy with mean eyes you don’t want to upset. His cellmate was massive, a lifer known as Muscles, who was supposed to have nicked a Spiderman toy from some supermarket and karate-chopped a security guard who stopped him at the exit. He snapped the bloke’s neck with one blow and got sent down for life. With Muscles as his heavy, Warren got what he wanted in Bream. He was definitely running the show that morning, giving orders to everyone. He told me to go up on the roof, so I did. I didn’t do no damage. The hole was already made when I climbed up. I stayed up there a few hours, until it was all over. I didn’t lay hands on no one, cons or screws.’

Statement from Prisoner B, taken at HMP Wormwood Scrubs, 9 December, 2015:

‘I had no reason to play any part in what happened at Bream. I’m on my second year of five and looking for parole as soon as I can get it. The centre of activity was the end cell on the middle landing of C wing, occupied by a surly prisoner called Warren. We all had nicknames, so that may not have been his real identity. He had a henchman known as Muscles, for obvious reasons, who was much feared. There is no doubt that these two were the ringleaders, although I doubt whether Muscles was involved in the planning. I stayed clear of trouble until the smoke from the fire in the association area downstairs was getting in my lungs and then I moved to the top landing and waited there until order was restored.’

Statement from Prisoner C, taken at HMP Horfield, 15 December, 2015:

‘The action started on the middle landing after unlock. I heard a load of shouting and someone told me two of the screws had been attacked and tied up in the last cell but one. Their belts with all their gear was taken and a prisoner called Warren was using the keys to open up the kitchen and the gym and the other places that was trashed. He was the ringleader. I was on the top landing trying to mind my own business, but the fumes got too much in the end and I had to leave the cell and run for it.’

Statement from Prisoner D, taken at HMP Cardiff, 16 December, 2015:

‘My cell was on the middle landing where the trouble started and I heard something was being planned. I was surprised. It’s the quiet ones you have to watch. I can’t think what got into Warren, thinking he could mastermind an escape. He let a few of us know he had friends outside and none of us believed him, but in the end he was proved right about that, even if these mates of his cocked up. I mean, the riot went to plan. He knew there were plenty of idiots happy to join in smashing up furniture and lighting fires. Personally, I stayed out of it. I may have done a bit of shouting to show solidarity, if you know what I mean, but I didn’t throw nothing or start a fire and I wasn’t on the roof.’

Such innocence. Diamond read the statements a third time. They had more vitality than the dull prose making up the rest of the report. If Magda could be believed, they were mostly fiction, but they conveyed something of the chaos inside the prison that morning three years ago. He was fairly sure Prisoner C — interviewed at Horfield — was Joe Irving. The hard man of C wing had certainly been transferred there in the mass relocation after the riot.

The surprise was that someone called Warren was apparently the prime mover in all this. Diamond had expected Jack Peace to be named, or else why had Magda insisted he studied the report?

He found her business card and called her mobile number.

‘Miss Lyle?’

‘Magda, for pity’s sake. Is this DS Diamond?’

‘It is. Sorry to disturb your evening, but I’ve started reading the report of the riot.’

‘Best of British with that.’

‘One thing puzzles me.’

‘Only one?’

‘These statements that were taken later all mention a prisoner called Warren.’

‘Yes.’

‘Who was he?’

She laughed. ‘Haven’t you worked that out? It’s Jack Peace. Everyone inside is given a nickname. His was Warren, get it?’

‘Oh.’ Said flatly in a tone showing he didn’t get it.

‘Warren Peace.’

‘War and Peace.’ He winced at the pun and then rather enjoyed it. ‘I was way behind you there.’

‘What did you make of those statements?’ she asked. ‘Was that collusion, or what?’

‘Could well be.’

‘To me, they shouted stitch-up.’

Diamond was trying to keep emotion out of it, but he could understand Magda’s heartfelt need to prove her case. ‘To be fair, they were taken months after the event. The prisoners had been dispersed to other prisons. And the wording isn’t similar.’

‘That would be too obvious,’ she said. ‘You’ve got to understand how Irving’s influence extends outside the walls of any one prison. People go in fear of him wherever they end up. They’ll do as he orders. No one would dare name him as the organiser.’

‘Did the investigation team speak to this man Muscles?’

‘They wouldn’t have got anything out of him. Believe me, Muscles doesn’t have the IQ of a jellyfish.’

‘Was his sentence increased?’

‘He’s a lifer already. I think he lost some privileges. I don’t suppose he noticed.’

‘Were others punished besides Jack Peace?’

‘A few got their terms increased by short amounts. Nothing compared to what he was given.’

‘Presumably he was interviewed and given a chance to defend himself?’

‘I’m sure he must have been, but I wasn’t there. I was getting over a double amputation.’

He paused. In his eagerness, he was overlooking the suffering she’d endured and would for the rest of her life. ‘I know, and I’m sorry to be pestering you. You were interviewed by the inquiry team, you said.’

‘Some jerk with a tape recorder who asked me about my kidnapping and damn all else. He didn’t want my take on the inmates and he wasn’t there to tell me about the riot. I’m not sure I wanted to know at the time. I had my own troubles.’

‘But you became interested since.’

‘Because they got it wrong and an innocent man took the rap for that ogre Irving. And I don’t mind admitting there’s a personal edge to this. I’m angry about losing my legs. You’ll be thinking the car crash was down to me and you’re right, but I’m not happy that Irving walks free. Can’t you arrest him now?’

‘It’s coming soon. Very soon.’

‘Still looking for the smoking gun?’

‘We found that. We’re waiting for forensics to tell us who fired the bloody thing.’

He went back to reading the report. Every anodyne word from the terms of reference to the summary of conclusions. Most of it was about as interesting as a mug of cold tea. Then he looked for anything he might have missed. Two hours later, he knew for certain who had fired that gun. Without any help from forensics.

In the morning, he was at his buoyant best, ready to wrap this up. Georgina stood in his way before he even got to the CID room. ‘Peter, the key results are in from forensics and ballistics.’

‘My favourite double act. Forensics and ballistics. Shame you can only ever catch them on the late, late show.’

She frowned. ‘Are you complaining? It’s only three days since the body was found. They have to be thorough.’

‘What do they say?’

‘We have a DNA result for the victim.’

‘Jack Peace?’

She blinked. ‘You know his name already?’

‘Information received, ma’am. I take no credit. And did they identify the other scrap of DNA found on the gun?’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but no. Not known on the national database.’

‘Anything else at the scene apart from the mask and the handgun?’

‘Plenty of unrelated scraps of rubbish. After all, hundreds of visitors pass through there every day. The only things I noticed that may be relevant are several scraps of confetti.’

‘Most likely from the bridesmaids. Can’t get excited about that.’

‘You’ll be able to read the findings for yourself, emailed to us both at my request.’

‘No traces on the victim’s clothes?’

‘Evidently not. The one small oddity is that the bullet-holes in the mask didn’t quite match the positions on the head. They weren’t just above the level of the eye-holes, as you’d expect. They were higher up. I’m thinking he may have pulled the mask down over his eyes before firing the gun.’

‘Why would he have done that?’

‘The stress of the moment. I don’t think it’s significant. On balance, we have a case of suicide here.’

The blood pressure soared. ‘What sort of balance is that, ma’am? For a start, the entry wound suggested he was left-handed and he wasn’t.’

Georgina nodded. ‘I heard this was troubling you and I spoke to the pathologist.’

‘Sealy?’ He uttered the name as if it had been scraped off the road.

‘He said it’s not by any means unknown for a right-handed person to use the left hand to shoot himself. In fact, he told me it was quite possible Peace had damaged a tendon in his right hand when climbing the wall.’

Diamond didn’t dignify that hypothesis with a comment. He vibrated his lips in disgust. ‘Did he also have a theory as to why a hardened criminal on a murder mission changes his mind and ends his own life?’

‘There’s no need for sarcasm, Peter.’

‘Excuse me, ma’am, but there’s every need for suspicion about what happened. Did forensics confirm that the gun had been wiped before the prints were made?’

‘They don’t appear to regard it as significant. You may have to accept, Peter, that you’re reading too much into the circumstances.’ She drew a sharp breath in the way she had of delivering the knockout. ‘I’ve had the coroner on the phone about setting a date for an inquest. He’s far too discreet to give an opinion, but he must have read the papers and he remarked that we’ve had quite a spate of suicides this summer.’

Even the bloody coroner was putting on the squeeze.

Shaking his head, he walked away from Georgina. Nothing he’d heard had changed his mind.

Inside the CID room, he put all that behind him, rubbed his hands and pumped himself up for the face-to-face with Irving. ‘Did you pick him up? Where are we holding him?’

Keith Halliwell looked up. ‘Bit of a setback there, guv. We had to force an entry into Sion Hill Place. He’s done a runner.’