Part Sixty One
On the Monday morning, Karen drove in to work with a heavy heart. She hadn't seen Yvonne yesterday, but they'd spoken on the phone. Karen felt that they could both do with some space and that Yvonne needed to spend some time alone with Lauren. Besides, Karen had the joys of Sylvia to deal with, not quite the best start to a week she'd ever had. When Sylvia presented herself, on the dot of nine Karen was pleased to note, she immediately plonked a very neat, very professional-looking report on Karen's desk.
"Get someone to type it for you, Sylvia?" Karen asked, giving it the once over.
"No," Replied Sylvia, her affronted dignity sticking out like a sore thumb. "Since Barbara Hunt was released, I've had to learn to use that damned computer."
"About time," Said Karen dryly. "At least now the inmates won't be able to swindle the canteen right under your very nose."
"You want to ask Tyler and Atkins about that," Replied Sylvia, but Karen privately thought she wouldn't.
"So, tell me what happened, and why you failed to keep Merriman on fifteen minute watch."
"It's all in there," Said Sylvia, gesturing to the report. "Al McKenzy started a fight with one of the new ones, probably trying to see if she was carrying any drugs. There were only three of us here last Friday night, and it took two of us to haul McKenzy down the block and the third to bang up the rest. You might find it hard to believe, but I can't be in two places at once."
"When you were escorting Merriman to court, did you at any time let her speak to Ritchie Atkins?"
"Do I look stupid?" Asked Sylvia and Karen hid a smile. "I wouldn't have let her speak to Atkins if it'd been her dying wish."
"It may well have been," Said Karen.
"If you ask me," Went on Sylvia. "It's Di Barker you want to be talking too, she was with Merriman when they got the verdict, and I can't think of a more likely time for them to exchange a few words than that." Realising that for once, Sylvia had a point, Karen dismissed her and asked her to send up Di Barker. Karen had always thought there was something a little odd about Di. She was one of the most highly strung people Karen had ever encountered. She felt sorry for Di for having lost her baby, but shit happens sometimes. When Di appeared, she was looking slightly worried.
"I don't know why you want to see me," Di began with no preamble, "I wasn't even here on Friday night."
"but you were in court with Snowball Merriman on Friday, weren't you."
"Yes, but I kept my eye on her all the time. They didn't have any opportunity to plan this whilst she was with me."
"Think about that very, very carefully," Continued Karen. "Did you at any time, sanction any communication between Merriman and Atkins?"
"Only once, after the verdict, when they were about to be taken back to prison."
"Before we get on to why you felt it necessary to go against every rule in the book, exactly what was said between them?"
"Nothing really. He didn't say a word, and all she said was I love you and goodbye." On this last word, Di suddenly stopped in her tracks. "But that doesn't mean anything," She added, stammering slightly in her attempt to convince both of them.
"I wonder," Said Karen sarcastically. "If there's one thing you absolutely don't do when you're escorting someone like Snowball Merriman to court, it's allow her to communicate with her co-defendent. This isn't permissible under any circumstances whatsoever. Is that clear?"
"Those few little words couldn't possibly have been part of a plan."
"Maybe not," Conceded Karen. "But I'd say they were her confirmation that the plan was to be put in to action. I think it's possible that the unofficial postal system has been at work again."
"Well, you can't blame me for that," Said Di, now well and truly back on the defensive.
"No," Replied Karen, "I can't blame you for the results of inefficient search procedures, but I can and will apportion blame for your allowing Merriman to speak to Atkins. What were you thinking of?"
"Even if they'd eventually been allowed an interprison visit, which isn't very likely, they wouldn't have been able to communicate for a very long time. I didn't think it would do any harm to let them exchange one last word." Extracting a copy of the prison handbook from the top of her bookcase, Karen thumped it down on the desk in front of Di.
"Let me ask you this," Said Karen, her anger rising. "Why do you think rules exist?"
"To keep the prisoners in line and to make our job easier," Said Di without a second thought.
"Not quite the definition I'd have given," Replied Karen, "But it'll do. The rules exist because there are some things that prisoners must not be allowed to do, like communicate with those who may help them to escape or to commit further crimes, for example. Your allowing Merriman and Atkins those few little words was at least partly responsible for their subsequent joint suicide."
"Oh, and I suppose your sleeping with Ritchie Atkins didn't have anything to do with a gun being smuggled in to this place, did it." Ice cold fury seemed to permeate Karen's entire body. But she knew it would come to this. It needn't have necessarily been Di, and if Karen were honest with herself she would have expected something like this from Sylvia. But here she was, and it was time to make her position as Die's immediate superior extremely clear.
"If you want to continue working in the prison service," She said, the icy threat dripping from her tone. "That had better be the last smart comment of your career. Now get out." Di didn't need telling twice. Knowing she'd gone just that little bit too far, she turned on her heel and stalked out of Karen's office, shutting the door smartly behind her.
Yvonne was sat at home, staring at the painting of Trigger which she'd got round to hanging at the weekend, and wondering just exactly what was expected of her now. She hadn't attended Charlie's funeral, as she had been banged up during the investigation of his murder. But she doubted whether or not she'd have gone even if she could. But Ritchie was different. He was her son, and nothing could ever change that. Outliving their children is the last thing any parent expects to do, and Yvonne was no different. Even being constantly aware that any member of the Atkins family probably had a shorter life expectancy than most other human beings, she hadn't ever considered that Ritchie or Lauren would die before she did. They were her children, and that wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. She'd asked Henry if he would do the funeral, because she knew he would do it sensitively and not spout a load of crap that was superficial and above all wrong. but Yvonne knew she wanted something else, something to make it that little bit special. She wanted to be able to have a last memory of Ritchie, some way in which to remember the time when he'd loved her. Picking up the phone, she dialed Cassie and Roisin's number. Roisin answered.
"How're you doing?" Asked Roisin on hearing it was Yvonne.
"I don't know really," Replied Yvonne, knowing this was the truth. "When are the kids coming home?"
"Aiden's bringing them back on Saturday. He took them to Ireland to see his mother last week, but they're back at school and I'm back at work on Monday." Roisin worked as a secretary at her children's primary school.
"Please would you do something for me?" Asked Yvonne.
"Of course."
"Would you sing something at Ritchie's funeral. Yours is one of the sweetest voices I've ever heard, and it might give me a bit of thinking time."
"I'm flattered," Said Roisin gently. "And yes, of course I will. Did you have anything in mind?"
"No, not really."
"I'll see what I can come up with and let you know."
As it was the first of September, and as she'd been pretty much away from the prison for the last two weeks, Karen was in the process of compiling the statistics for August. This included how many prisoners had been accommodated on G wing, the three different regimes of prisoners, and the types of offences they were in for. She was in the middle of wrestling with a spreadsheet, trying to bring the cost for the next month down to something resembling its budget, when her phone rang.
"Karen Betts," She said as she answered.
"Karen, it's John Deed." Karen was a little surprised, but then realised that the press would have had a field day with the news of the joint suicide.
"Hello, Judge, what can I do for you?"
"I read Friday night's news in Saturday morning's paper and simply wondered how you were." Karen was slightly thrown by this, but then remembered how nice John had been to her when discussing her covered up allegation.
"Well, I've bawled out two of my staff already today and it's only lunchtime. How about you?" John laughed.
"Seeing as I've never had to shout at Coope for anything, my day has been fairly quiet so far. But I suspect I'll be getting a visit from my two very own irritants from the LCD."
"I haven't looked at a paper since last week, but I bet your press has been as bad as mine."
"They'll find something else to talk about in a day or two," Said John, neither confirming nor denying Karen's estimate.
"At least one of your officers wasn't stupid enough to allow Merriman to talk to Atkins after the verdict."
"Not clever," Said John in disgust.
"And then she very kindly reminded me that it was my fault a gun was brought in here in the first place."
"Ouch!" Said John with feeling. "But you're forgetting that I was the one who sent them down," He continued.
"Not exactly without good reason," Replied Karen. "The press can hardly criticize you for doing your job." John laughed.
"They do that every day. How's Yvonne?" Karen was inexplicably grateful that John hadn't referred to Yvonne as Mrs. Atkins.
"She's coping, but how long that'll last I'm not sure."
"Please pass on my condolences. After reading that in the paper, I drove straight over to see my daughter on Saturday."
"Yes, I found myself talking to my son, not something we do all that often since he dropped out of college."
"The joys of being a parent," Replied John, thinking that Karen must have been very young when she became a mother.
"And no matter what they do, you never stop worrying about them." A while later when she ended the call, Karen felt slightly more at ease than she had done ever since she'd heard about the double suicide. They seemed to have struck a chord, her and this Judge who had come in to her life almost by accident. Karen had felt nothing but warmth and compassion on that occasion when he'd summoned her to his chambers, and just now, on the phone, she'd felt again that same empathy that could so easily develop in to a lasting friendship.
On the Monday morning, Karen drove in to work with a heavy heart. She hadn't seen Yvonne yesterday, but they'd spoken on the phone. Karen felt that they could both do with some space and that Yvonne needed to spend some time alone with Lauren. Besides, Karen had the joys of Sylvia to deal with, not quite the best start to a week she'd ever had. When Sylvia presented herself, on the dot of nine Karen was pleased to note, she immediately plonked a very neat, very professional-looking report on Karen's desk.
"Get someone to type it for you, Sylvia?" Karen asked, giving it the once over.
"No," Replied Sylvia, her affronted dignity sticking out like a sore thumb. "Since Barbara Hunt was released, I've had to learn to use that damned computer."
"About time," Said Karen dryly. "At least now the inmates won't be able to swindle the canteen right under your very nose."
"You want to ask Tyler and Atkins about that," Replied Sylvia, but Karen privately thought she wouldn't.
"So, tell me what happened, and why you failed to keep Merriman on fifteen minute watch."
"It's all in there," Said Sylvia, gesturing to the report. "Al McKenzy started a fight with one of the new ones, probably trying to see if she was carrying any drugs. There were only three of us here last Friday night, and it took two of us to haul McKenzy down the block and the third to bang up the rest. You might find it hard to believe, but I can't be in two places at once."
"When you were escorting Merriman to court, did you at any time let her speak to Ritchie Atkins?"
"Do I look stupid?" Asked Sylvia and Karen hid a smile. "I wouldn't have let her speak to Atkins if it'd been her dying wish."
"It may well have been," Said Karen.
"If you ask me," Went on Sylvia. "It's Di Barker you want to be talking too, she was with Merriman when they got the verdict, and I can't think of a more likely time for them to exchange a few words than that." Realising that for once, Sylvia had a point, Karen dismissed her and asked her to send up Di Barker. Karen had always thought there was something a little odd about Di. She was one of the most highly strung people Karen had ever encountered. She felt sorry for Di for having lost her baby, but shit happens sometimes. When Di appeared, she was looking slightly worried.
"I don't know why you want to see me," Di began with no preamble, "I wasn't even here on Friday night."
"but you were in court with Snowball Merriman on Friday, weren't you."
"Yes, but I kept my eye on her all the time. They didn't have any opportunity to plan this whilst she was with me."
"Think about that very, very carefully," Continued Karen. "Did you at any time, sanction any communication between Merriman and Atkins?"
"Only once, after the verdict, when they were about to be taken back to prison."
"Before we get on to why you felt it necessary to go against every rule in the book, exactly what was said between them?"
"Nothing really. He didn't say a word, and all she said was I love you and goodbye." On this last word, Di suddenly stopped in her tracks. "But that doesn't mean anything," She added, stammering slightly in her attempt to convince both of them.
"I wonder," Said Karen sarcastically. "If there's one thing you absolutely don't do when you're escorting someone like Snowball Merriman to court, it's allow her to communicate with her co-defendent. This isn't permissible under any circumstances whatsoever. Is that clear?"
"Those few little words couldn't possibly have been part of a plan."
"Maybe not," Conceded Karen. "But I'd say they were her confirmation that the plan was to be put in to action. I think it's possible that the unofficial postal system has been at work again."
"Well, you can't blame me for that," Said Di, now well and truly back on the defensive.
"No," Replied Karen, "I can't blame you for the results of inefficient search procedures, but I can and will apportion blame for your allowing Merriman to speak to Atkins. What were you thinking of?"
"Even if they'd eventually been allowed an interprison visit, which isn't very likely, they wouldn't have been able to communicate for a very long time. I didn't think it would do any harm to let them exchange one last word." Extracting a copy of the prison handbook from the top of her bookcase, Karen thumped it down on the desk in front of Di.
"Let me ask you this," Said Karen, her anger rising. "Why do you think rules exist?"
"To keep the prisoners in line and to make our job easier," Said Di without a second thought.
"Not quite the definition I'd have given," Replied Karen, "But it'll do. The rules exist because there are some things that prisoners must not be allowed to do, like communicate with those who may help them to escape or to commit further crimes, for example. Your allowing Merriman and Atkins those few little words was at least partly responsible for their subsequent joint suicide."
"Oh, and I suppose your sleeping with Ritchie Atkins didn't have anything to do with a gun being smuggled in to this place, did it." Ice cold fury seemed to permeate Karen's entire body. But she knew it would come to this. It needn't have necessarily been Di, and if Karen were honest with herself she would have expected something like this from Sylvia. But here she was, and it was time to make her position as Die's immediate superior extremely clear.
"If you want to continue working in the prison service," She said, the icy threat dripping from her tone. "That had better be the last smart comment of your career. Now get out." Di didn't need telling twice. Knowing she'd gone just that little bit too far, she turned on her heel and stalked out of Karen's office, shutting the door smartly behind her.
Yvonne was sat at home, staring at the painting of Trigger which she'd got round to hanging at the weekend, and wondering just exactly what was expected of her now. She hadn't attended Charlie's funeral, as she had been banged up during the investigation of his murder. But she doubted whether or not she'd have gone even if she could. But Ritchie was different. He was her son, and nothing could ever change that. Outliving their children is the last thing any parent expects to do, and Yvonne was no different. Even being constantly aware that any member of the Atkins family probably had a shorter life expectancy than most other human beings, she hadn't ever considered that Ritchie or Lauren would die before she did. They were her children, and that wasn't the way it was supposed to happen. She'd asked Henry if he would do the funeral, because she knew he would do it sensitively and not spout a load of crap that was superficial and above all wrong. but Yvonne knew she wanted something else, something to make it that little bit special. She wanted to be able to have a last memory of Ritchie, some way in which to remember the time when he'd loved her. Picking up the phone, she dialed Cassie and Roisin's number. Roisin answered.
"How're you doing?" Asked Roisin on hearing it was Yvonne.
"I don't know really," Replied Yvonne, knowing this was the truth. "When are the kids coming home?"
"Aiden's bringing them back on Saturday. He took them to Ireland to see his mother last week, but they're back at school and I'm back at work on Monday." Roisin worked as a secretary at her children's primary school.
"Please would you do something for me?" Asked Yvonne.
"Of course."
"Would you sing something at Ritchie's funeral. Yours is one of the sweetest voices I've ever heard, and it might give me a bit of thinking time."
"I'm flattered," Said Roisin gently. "And yes, of course I will. Did you have anything in mind?"
"No, not really."
"I'll see what I can come up with and let you know."
As it was the first of September, and as she'd been pretty much away from the prison for the last two weeks, Karen was in the process of compiling the statistics for August. This included how many prisoners had been accommodated on G wing, the three different regimes of prisoners, and the types of offences they were in for. She was in the middle of wrestling with a spreadsheet, trying to bring the cost for the next month down to something resembling its budget, when her phone rang.
"Karen Betts," She said as she answered.
"Karen, it's John Deed." Karen was a little surprised, but then realised that the press would have had a field day with the news of the joint suicide.
"Hello, Judge, what can I do for you?"
"I read Friday night's news in Saturday morning's paper and simply wondered how you were." Karen was slightly thrown by this, but then remembered how nice John had been to her when discussing her covered up allegation.
"Well, I've bawled out two of my staff already today and it's only lunchtime. How about you?" John laughed.
"Seeing as I've never had to shout at Coope for anything, my day has been fairly quiet so far. But I suspect I'll be getting a visit from my two very own irritants from the LCD."
"I haven't looked at a paper since last week, but I bet your press has been as bad as mine."
"They'll find something else to talk about in a day or two," Said John, neither confirming nor denying Karen's estimate.
"At least one of your officers wasn't stupid enough to allow Merriman to talk to Atkins after the verdict."
"Not clever," Said John in disgust.
"And then she very kindly reminded me that it was my fault a gun was brought in here in the first place."
"Ouch!" Said John with feeling. "But you're forgetting that I was the one who sent them down," He continued.
"Not exactly without good reason," Replied Karen. "The press can hardly criticize you for doing your job." John laughed.
"They do that every day. How's Yvonne?" Karen was inexplicably grateful that John hadn't referred to Yvonne as Mrs. Atkins.
"She's coping, but how long that'll last I'm not sure."
"Please pass on my condolences. After reading that in the paper, I drove straight over to see my daughter on Saturday."
"Yes, I found myself talking to my son, not something we do all that often since he dropped out of college."
"The joys of being a parent," Replied John, thinking that Karen must have been very young when she became a mother.
"And no matter what they do, you never stop worrying about them." A while later when she ended the call, Karen felt slightly more at ease than she had done ever since she'd heard about the double suicide. They seemed to have struck a chord, her and this Judge who had come in to her life almost by accident. Karen had felt nothing but warmth and compassion on that occasion when he'd summoned her to his chambers, and just now, on the phone, she'd felt again that same empathy that could so easily develop in to a lasting friendship.