Chapter 29: Tube and Spliff

…

Adam looked up from the page he'd found on Google, having typed in the woman killer's name. Hmm. So that was interesting, a troubled childhood was why he killed women. To blame them for his father leaving him and his mother. Adam felt no sympathy for the women he killed as he himself hated them, but for his own reasons. His mother had probably deserved it, though of course he'd never dare say that to Chancer. Not if he wanted to live anyway. So chancer was almost certainly going to the chair then. Adam didn't care either way, as long as he got his answers. Sure, he respected the woman killer, but he couldn't do anything to stop the execution so why worry about it? Adam just didn't like being lied to by anyone. He was starting to distrust Chancer and right now, while he was still alive, the killer was getting a lot of his money. Probably in to a secret bank account Leach would give him when, if, he ever got out of there. Or perhaps the crime Lord was keeping it for himself? Adam didn't know. But his earlier offer to give Chancer money if and when he got out would be completely forgotten if it did turn out the man was lying to him, the reason be damned.

…

BANG! BANG!

Mark Sarcozi woke with a start. What the fuck was that? He glanced at his watch. It was 6AM.

BANG! BANG!

There it was again. Someone was trying to break his door down. Or at least, that's what it sounded like. With a growl of annoyance, Sarcozi dragged himself out of bed and pulled on his jeans over his boxer shorts and t-shirt. He then walked to the door before the person could hammer on it again.

"Hey tube!" Said a cheerful voice Sarcozi didn't recognise, still half asleep. "Need to talk. It's Spliff!"

Mark inwardly groaned. So it was one of Chris Leach's men. He'd sincerely hoped he'd never see them again after he'd delivered the iPod in to Smith's Grove. He sighed. "What is it?"

All of Leach's men had aliases, even him. Though his had been given to him very reluctantly on his part. It was the first thing Leach had told him when he'd unwillingly let them recruit him. Mark had just come out of prison for small time drug stuff, but what Leach was offering he couldn't turn down. He'd just have to be very careful and cover his tracks better in future. Maybe with Leach around he'd be able to do just that. He'd heard a lot of Aliases since he'd joined. The man at his door now was Spliff but he'd also met hammer, joint and unbelievably, cornflake.

Now the man called Spliff entered his house. Mark didn't even know his real name and suspected "Spliff" didn't know his either. That was fine with Mark. "What is it?" Mark asked, closing his door.

"Now tube." Spliff said, sounding almost disappointed. "That's no way to treat an old friend. Can't we start off with a nice hot drink?" Mark sighed. This might be his house, but Spliff was already dictating the terms of this meeting. Mark didn't like that fact at all. But it was just a drink, he could cope with that demand. Spliff followed him in to the kitchen and on his request Mark made him a strong black coffee, and a sweet tea for himself.

"What is it?" Mark repeated, once they were sitting in the living room with their drinks. Mark didn't like how Spliff had almost instantly made himself at home either. He was now lounging with his feet on the sofa, looking around the living room. Mark didn't trust him as far as he could throw him.

"Well," Spliff said, looking completely at ease. "As you've probably guessed, the boss called me and asked me to come over to see you this morning. As soon as possible was what he actually said. We have a… situation."

Mark felt his heart sink. This did not sound good. "What situation?" He asked, unsure whether he even wanted to hear the answer.

"Well you see," Spliff continued, his every word casual, unhurried, as though they were discussing where they were going to meet for lunch the next day. "It's to do with the man in SG who's undertaking some work for one of our clients. The one you visited. You know, your old school friend, I believe?"

Mark looked away. Damn. He'd hoped that wouldn't be common knowledge, his and Chancer's old school friendship. But if Spliff knew, then God knew how many more did. Spliff wasn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut. Even if he only knew on a need to know basis. Mark looked back at him suspiciously. "Yes," he said reluctantly after a moment's pause. "My old school friend. In that case you must be referring to Derek Chancer."

"Unless you have any other killers as old school chums," Spliff chuckled. "Yes, one and the same."

Mark sighed again. "Just because I took him the iPod and we used; I repeat used to be friends at school why does that mean I have to go back in there? I already know that's what you're building up to asking me to do!"

"You are correct," Spliff nodded. "Well you see Tube, its business. Mr. Chancer of course knows you and the quacks in that nut house have no reason to distrust you. If we sent just anyone in there it would raise suspicion and issues around our client and security are rather…" he paused. "Tense at the moment."

"Let me guess," Mark rolled his eyes. "He screwed up, our client and now he's alerted the quacks to what Chancer was doing. Right?"

"Almost," Spliff said slowly, choosing his words carefully now. "It's actually more a case of…" he paused again. "Let's just say someone tried to enter SG to speak to our client's target and… did something he shouldn't."

"Who? Our client?"

"No, Tube. The man who went in at our client's request. He tried to warn the quacks about what was going on. Tried to protect our client's main target. As he actually has two, but the one in SG is his main priority."

Mark whistled. "Jesus! So what happened?"

"Well let's just say this man had a little… accident when he left SG. He somehow encountered a hammer to the head on the highway back home. He was pulled out of his car and beaten to death."

Mark winced. What a horrible way to go. He remembered his own thoughts when Leach had first asked him to take the iPod in. Tricking a blind woman, causing her harm didn't sit well with him either. So he in part sympathised with the now dead stranger. He then remembered Leach's words to him that night. Ching-Ching! Had this unknown stranger heard those words in the last hours of his life? A promise of money beyond his dreams which made him walk to his death? Mark felt sick. "So why do I need to go back in there?" He asked after a moment. "What does our client want from me?"

"See Tube, this is why I had to come here. It's too dangerous to discuss this over the phone, sure you understand." Spliff smiled. "Great coffee, may I have another?"

Mark gritted his teeth but went and followed the request. The man was keeping him waiting, making it quite clear who was in control, in charge, even in Mark's own house. This was typical Leach and his men. He passed Spliff his fresh coffee, then retook his seat. Spliff took time sipping before he spoke again.

"Ok. Our client thinks our inside man your old friend is lying about the iPod. Or should I say he might be. He has told us and our client that it works everywhere apart from the target's cell."

Mark raised an eyebrow "Eh? So the technology within it works everywhere else just fine except for the target's cell? How can that be?"

"That is as yet unknown," Spliff said. "But I think the boss is working on something for our client who desperately wants to find out. He's a determined son of a bitch our client, I'll give him that. He must really hate the blind woman, that's for sure. He told the boss he isn't giving up. Crazy if you ask me not to mention fucking expensive, but…" Spliff shrugged. "His money, our pockets Tube."

"But I won't be able to get to her cell," Mark reminded him. Spliff nodded. "I know, that's why our boss is working on something which can get to her cell. All you have to do is check the iPod is working. Our client wants to be sure your old chum isn't lying to him."

"Um, so let me get this straight. Mr. Leach wants me to go in there to check the iPod is working, to make sure Derek Chancer is telling him the truth? Why does that make any difference? I can check it works sure. But I can't get anywhere near her cell to prove it doesn't work there."

Spliff shrugged. "Fuck knows. Apparently the boss asked our client the very same question. Asked him if he wanted to give the iPod to someone as a Christmas present when this is over and Chancer's been fried," Spliff smirked. "What do you care? I say again, his money, our pockets."

Mark looked at him for a long moment. "So," he said at last. "Basically our client simply wants to know for a fact the iPod is definitely working, regardless. Right?"

"That's about the size of it," Spliff agreed.

"Pointless," Mark muttered. "What a fucking waste of time. It won't solve his problem."

Spliff shrugged again. "Not our problem, we just take the cash at the end of it. So will you do it?"

Mark sighed. He didn't want to do it, but he could feel himself getting dragged in to it whether he wanted to or not. "How much will I get paid?" He couldn't help himself but to ask. He needed money; he couldn't lie there.

"Considering the risks you'll be taking," Spliff replied. "The boss has said you'll get 700 bucks."

Mark whistled. 700 just for if he was lucky, an hour's work tops? In which case, he realised with a sinking feeling, he could not refuse. "Fine," he said at last, very reluctantly. "But just one thing, how will I get Chancer to give me the iPod? I can't exactly say "hey Derek, I'm here to check your iPod's working," can I? I'm not a fucking iPod maintenance man!"

Spliff grinned. "The boss is getting one of his men to programme the iPod today so it makes a high pitched buzzing sound and stops showing Derek his precious porn," he actually laughed now. "That'll make him hand it over, if he can't get his pussy on screen!"

"But won't it seem a bit suspicious if the day after that happens I suddenly appear asking him if it's working? He'll know I'm on it then!"

"That's the point." Spliff looked at Mark as if he were stupid. "Chancer will probably contact Leach on it immediately and tell him. So you being there so quickly will be perfect. The idiot will think you've been sent there purely to fix it. He won't be able to wait to get his pussy back!"

Mark nodded, unable to stop himself marvelling at Leach's thought processes and technical abilities. It made perfect sense. He looked back at Spliff. "So then what do I do?"

"Then all you have to do is listen with the iPod for a few seconds, verify it is indeed working and leave. When you confirm this to the boss, he'll get the buzzing and whatever jammer he's used taken off the iPod again. Bingo, working perfectly. Chancer will love you! That's all you have to do. Piece of cake!"

But as Spliff left the house a few minutes later and Sarcozi was alone, he began to think that a piece of cake was something it certainly would not be. It smelt very strongly of danger and risk as far as he was concerned. But the money. It was too good to refuse. With a groan, he went back to bed, knowing Leach had him just where he wanted him. Mark's plan had been to have a lie in that day as he didn't have work. But when he got back in to the bed he'd reluctantly left on Spliff's arrival, he knew sleep would not be coming back to him that day.

…

At first when Charlotte woke the next morning, she wasn't exactly sure where she was. She glanced around her. Was she staying in a hotel for some reason? Then it all started coming back. The letter, Adam, Danielle, Michael… Thinking of the latter two she smiled. She wondered what'd happened between them the night before. Maybe she'd ask her when they met up. She had plans with her friend before she finally did drive home.

The previous evening, Dr Stark had been true to her word and given her as much time as she'd needed. It was two and a half hours before the Psychiatrist left her, during which Charlotte insisted on making her a hot drink. They'd sat and drank them, while Charlotte said everything she wanted to say. A couple of times during the session, Charlotte had stopped herself saying what she really wanted to, conscious of the Psychiatrist's need to get home to her own life. But both times Dr Stark had seemed to read her mind, given her that stern glare once more and Charlotte had surrendered. But she'd do something to say thank you, whatever Dr Stark said. As she got out of the huge bed and headed towards the shower, Charlotte found her mind going back over her session the night before.

…

"I don't really want to be in a refuge if I'm honest. Not for much longer."

"There's no shame in it you know," Dr Stark said.

"Yeah I know," Charlotte nodded. "But there's women out there who and I don't mean this the wrong way, I know abuse is abuse, just like you said earlier. But there are indeed women who are much worse off than me. They need my room and I'm taking up space which really should be theirs.

"But that's not your decision, is it." Charlotte knew it wasn't a question.

"Well, no," she admitted. "But I'm starting to question why I'm still there. Does someone want me to stay there until Adam is arrested?"

"I believe that's what judge Spinner said wasn't it?"

"I think…" Charlotte thought back. "I can't remember her exact orders, but it was either until Adam was in prison or there were sufficient security measures to protect me. If I'm honest, I'm still not completely sure what that means. Dr Clarkson is the one in charge of my case and she's the one who decides when I can leave."

"Have you spoken to her about how you're feeling?"

"Not yet. I was supposed to have a meeting with her yesterday before all this shit happened. I phoned her last night; the doctors don't finish until eleven each night and luckily she was still on duty. I told her the outcome of what'd happened and that Danielle was ok."

"Right," Dr Stark said slowly. "Did you discuss you and your situation? You're just as important in all this too, Charlotte. You seem to keep forgetting that."

Charlotte gave the older woman a genuine smile. "No, I don't forget it. I suppose I just can't let myself forget the fact she did go through a lot worse than I did at Adam's hands, and that's just the truth. Her abuse was still worse than mine. But I promise not to say it in a derogatory way again," she smiled again. So anyway, Dr Clarkson said we would talk when I got back. I told her I was staying here last night."

"So when are you needed back for College?"

"Tuesday."

"Well, it's only Saturday now, so if you want to stay until Monday, you are more than welcome to do so. I am more than happy to authorise this and I'm sure she will be over the moon too."

"I couldn't ask…"

"You didn't," Dr Stark interrupted. "I offered."

Charlotte had quickly learnt that Dr Stark was not someone to argue with. "Thanks," she said quietly. "I did have the foresight to bring an overnight bag just in case, lucky for me I did then."

"Indeed," Dr Stark said. "So tell me Charlotte. What are you studying at college?"

Charlotte opened her mouth but again, Dr Stark spoke before she could. How the hell did she do that? "No, come on, I genuinely want to know."

Charlotte blushed. "I'm taking accounts, I want to learn banking. Ever since I was a child I loved banking. Dad bought me one of those digital money counting jars? You know the ones you put cash in and it counts it for you?" Dr Stark nodded. "Well I put all my pocket money in their most weeks and saved it," she grinned a little, seemingly embarrassed. "I also wrote down on paper every dollar I had. Whereas Colin would put his money in the jar and the thing would hardly have time to count it before it was gone again, spent!" Dr Stark chuckled. "Even before that when I had a good old fashioned piggy bank I'd write down what was in it. Finance, outgoings, living expenses, all that stuff has always interested me. When I grew older, mom and dad allowed me to help them manage theirs. Colin was always hopeless," she laughed. "You'd ask him to save for a week and he'd manage about five days before he'd buy something! Game for his play station, CD, video, whatever. There was always something he was buying. He's a lot better now but he still comes to me for money questions and help."

Dr Stark smiled. "It's good you're doing something you're interested in."

Charlotte nodded. "Yeah, Adam tried to do what he did to her and get my money out of my account claiming it was his. But because I had too much bank knowledge I didn't let him. He hated that fact. He took my bank card, but by the time he tried to use it I'd already cancelled it. I put every security measure possible on my account and he got nowhere near my money. I even asked dad to have power of attorney. Not because I didn't trust myself or couldn't manage my cash, but because I didn't want that little shit getting my money. Adam was so angry," Charlotte smiled in satisfaction. "I started a paper round just for a bit extra and Adam got nowhere near it."

"What about Colin?" Dr Stark asked. "What's he doing now?"

"He's training to be a Lawyer," Charlotte smiled proudly. "He's doing really well too. He's a good guy, although I guess I would say that," she laughed. "But he's also fair. He'll make a damn good Lawyer.

Dr Stark smiled. "So you're hoping to get in to banking? Are you studying it for a lifelong career?"

"I hope so," Charlotte nodded. "I know there's a lot of training to do, but I'll feel top of the world when I get behind that bullet proof glass and help people with their finances. Even if I will be jealous if they're richer than me. But seriously, I'm not in this for the money, I'm in it because I love it. Mom's a taxi driver and dad works in government, civil servant. I'm glad though that the first thing I've been able to do is get our bank accounts protected. I know you guys have power of attorney for her because I set it up," she smiled. "I haven't taken dad off mine yet either. I don't intend to do that until Adam is locked up."

As Dr Stark finally made to leave, Charlotte spoke again. "Can I ask you something? There's something I really want to do for her, but I need your permission to do it."

As she got out of the shower now, Charlotte smiled to herself. Dr Stark was a genuinely kind and caring person, not just in it for the money herself either. She genuinely cared about her patients, that much was obvious. If she was a patient here, Charlotte would want to be treated by her. Dr Clarkson was just as professional and caring as Dr Stark was. The latter had stayed with her a lot longer last night than Charlotte had ever planned or intended, and she'd really appreciated that. It'd been almost midnight when the Psychiatrist had finally left. Charlotte had slept like a log. It was the best night's sleep she'd got in weeks. Before leaving, the doctor had told her that Michael had guided Danielle back to her cell and was now inside with her. Charlotte had smiled with genuine happiness at hearing that. Now she just had to convince her friend to tell the killer the truth. That she loved him. Now, charlotte pulled on her change of clothes and pressed the green button beside her bed. There were two. One green, one red. The green one alerted the guards on duty that she was about to come down and would need access back in to Danielle's part of the hospital. The red one brought guards immediately to her suite. It was a panic button just in case. Sure enough, five minutes later when she followed the path she and Dr Stark had taken the night before, one of the guards was waiting for her.

"Good morning charlotte," he greeted her with a friendly smile. "I'm Jack."

"Hey jack," she smiled back at him. "She told me about you."

Jack groaned. "Oh god! I bet she did!"

Charlotte couldn't help it and started to laugh. "She told me about how you showed her your equipment and that she asked you if your wife's name was Jill!"

The guard rolled his eyes as he opened the first door for her. "I get that all the time."

Charlotte grinned and followed him through one beeping door after another.

"How did you sleep?" Jack asked.

"Like a log thanks," Charlotte said. "I was more tired than I thought. I didn't see you hear yesterday though?"

He nodded. "This is my first day back so you wouldn't have done. Joanne was on overtime yesterday. I'm on the team with Rick, Ryan, Joanne and a few others."

"Ah," Charlotte nodded back at him. "Got you."

They finally entered the patient's canteen and Danielle was sitting at the closest table. But Charlotte couldn't help but look passed her friend. Michael Myers was sitting opposite her, chained by ankles and wrists. Two guards stood either side of him.

"Morning," Charlotte said, trying not to sound nervous being this close to Myers without glass between them.

"Hey C," she smiled and stood, walking over and hugging her. "How did you sleep?"

"Great thanks, you?"

"Yeah not bad."

"Hi Michael," Charlotte smiled at the chained killer. He looked over at her, but Charlotte was almost certain his eyes had been on her from the moment she'd entered the room. "How are you?" The killer gave her a very slight nod.

"Hey, I spoke to Dr Stark last night and she's authorised this. There's a little café about half an hour from the hospital, I'm allowed to take you for some breakfast. You up for it?"

"God yes!" she said without hesitation. "I'd love to get out of here for a bit!" The two of them had moved away from Michael and the other patients and were speaking quietly so they couldn't hear. "I'm sure. Well come on then, let's go."

…

It took the two women a little while to get out of SG, security was obviously high, coming from the maximum security ward. But Dr Stark had contacted the gatehouse, given them Charlotte's car registration and confirmed she had authorised this. Still, the guards checked the car to make sure no one was in the trunk and Charlotte's ID. Charlotte smiled at them and was only too happy to co-operate. Finally they were through and heading on to the main highway. "Let's put some music on!" Charlotte said cheerfully and pressed a button on the radio. Tears for fears were soon playing over the car speakers. She smiled happily. She pressed the button to open her electric window and felt the cool air on her face. She sighed in pleasure.

They reached the small restaurant Charlotte had eaten at before when coming to visit. The food was gorgeous. Soon the two of them were sitting in a booth, waiting for their full English breakfasts and steaming cups of tea.

"So," Charlotte said as their drinks arrived. "Spill! How did it go last night?"

She smiled and spoke in a low voice so only Charlotte could hear. "It was… Amazing. He held me beside the waterfall in the exercise yard."

"There's a waterfall out there? Nice! You love waterfalls don't you?"

"Yeah, and I finally told Joanne that yesterday. We were sitting by it and it just came out. You know I've always associated them with romance, I confided to her I'd have loved Michael to hold me beside it. But I was sure that couldn't happen, too many security risks and all that. But I was wrong. Eventually, Michael came out and did just that. I'd fallen asleep and my head touching his shoulder woke me up."

"Did he let you touch his ears?" Charlotte smirked.

She blushed. "Yes."

Charlotte whistled. "Then get in there girl! How many times do I have to tell you? Get in there, do it, tell him!"

"But…" she began.

"Listen!" Charlotte spoke over her. "Think about it. For one it'll be good for your therapy, showing you're recovering from that bastard, and second because it'll help Michael too."

"How?"

"Because he's never been loved before of course. He's a killer. Who would love a killer? That would be his frame of mind. But you could show him he's wrong. Yes he's a killer, but that doesn't mean he can't be loved. If you really love him, then tell him. It could help him more than you or I could ever realise."

She considered her best friend's words. "Hmm. You might be right there C. I… well I didn't really think about it like that if I'm honest. Or at least, I didn't think about it that way."

"From your perspective? Or Michael's?"

"Either, if I'm totally honest with you. But mostly Michael's. This is going to sound… well maybe unbelievable, but when we got close I… almost didn't see Michael Myers the masked killer, I saw a caring man. I of course didn't forget he's a killer, I can't of course. I know what he did twenty years ago, not to mention his sister, but that wasn't the man I got to know."

"There you are then. That just proves my point! Tell him, Dan."

"But… I don't know if I can. What if I'm released and I never see Michael again? How can I tell him I love him, as in I'd love to be in a relationship with him but then I never see him again?"

"Do you really think that'll happen?" Charlotte lowered her voice further. "I don't think Dr Loomis or Dr Stark will let it, if you get what I'm saying. They'll reunite you somehow, I'm certain of this. I mean, think about it. You told me yourself. Jefferson was killed and what did the guards do to stop Michael? John Baker was killed and what did the guards do to stop Michael? They let it happen. All the while putting on a show for the cameras. I'm telling you; they won't let you not see him again."

"You think?" she sounded utterly amazed by her friend's words.

"You don't?" Charlotte asked her.

"I… I don't know," she admitted. "I guess I never even considered that!"

"Well," Charlotte said, still in a very low voice. "In that case I suggest you trust me on this one. Plus, let's just say hypothetically you didn't get to see Michael again. Would you want to part with him knowing you hadn't told him? It might be painful for you for a while, but you might end up regretting it if you don't. Not just for you, but for Michael too. He'll know someone loves him. Whether he believes it or not is a choice only he can make. But at least he'll know."

She was silent for a few moments, thinking over everything her best friend and good as sister had just said. Was she right? She didn't speak again until the waitress had brought them their breakfasts. "Hmm. I can't argue with anything you've just said C. I just hope I've got the guts to tell him."

"Ok, I understand that, but is that because you're just nervous? Like normal? Or is it because part of you is afraid to as he's a killer? But surely you know he'd never hurt you, right?"

"I'm almost certain yeah," she said.

"Almost?" Charlotte queried. "After you've spent nights in a locked room with him alone? After he's held you and let you touch his ears? Even after all that, you're afraid?"

"I know," she sounded embarrassed. "It makes no sense and I don't like it, but yes, a little."

"Alright," Charlotte conceded. "I guess I understand that. He is still a serial killer. But why would he hurt you for telling him you love him? If you said you hated him then alright I could see that. But for telling him you love him?"

"Thinks I'm lying?" she said, but it sounded more like a question than a fact. "Or that I have an ulterior motive? Or I'm tricking him? It seems like he believes we weren't responsible for… you know, yesterday, but is it too soon? Should I wait a while? Just in case?"

"Only you can make that decision Dan. No one else can for you. But if I'm honest, I wouldn't be surprised if your release is getting close. Would you?"

"I don't know. I thought about that myself a couple of days ago. But the fact we're here now is the biggest sign of that I've seen since I got there. Surely Dr Stark wouldn't have let this happen if it wasn't?"

"There you go then. You might not have much time. Or at least, not as much time as you think. Plus, why keep putting yourself through this? It's clear you want to tell him, so tell him! Don't keep your silence! You want him to know, he deserves to know. Look at everything he's done for you."

With that last statement at least, she couldn't argue.

…

…Derek lay in his cell, anger growing within him. Something had just dawned on him which he hadn't considered before. If his suspicions were right, Adam Dawson was definitely a dead man! He'd kill him as slowly and painfully as he could. He would never have sex with a man, but he had plenty of tools he could stick up Dawson's… He took a breath and tried to reign in those thoughts. There was no point thinking like that. Not yet. He was nowhere near Dawson right now, first he'd have to get out of this hell hole. But by God he would! Adam Dawson deserved everything he got. He knew he'd have to pretend to be at least civil to him until then, hell the prick had promised him money. So by God he was going to keep that promise! But once he had that, Derek would finish him off! He could hardly believe that for the first time ever he was very probably united with Michael Myers. Both of them wanted Dawson dead, all be it for different reasons.

Chancer wasn't stupid. He'd realised exactly what'd really happened earlier that day.

…

"Chancer," a guard approached his door. Derek couldn't remember his name. "Mr. Sarcozi is here to see you."

Derek had tucked the iPod in to a pocket of his uniform, and now allowed the guard to shackle and lead him out of the block towards a visitor's room. Once again, there was Sarcozi, separated from him by a thick wall of glass. Derek waited until the guard had removed his shackles and left, before looking through it at his ex-friend. "Mark."

"Hi Derek," Mark's voice came through the concealed speakers. "How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you," Derek drawled and saw Mark flinch. He knew Derek was being sarcastic. There was a moment's silence, before Mark spoke again. "I hear you want more music put on your iPod?"

Chancer recognised the code immediately. I'm here to fix your iPod. But of course Sarcozi couldn't say that. The visitor's rooms were all audibly and visually recorded. So he played along. "Yes," he said, sliding the small device through the gap in the glass which without its case, just fitted through.

He watched as Sarcozi picked it up on the other side and withdrew something from his pocket. Derek had no idea what it was. He plugged it in to the iPod and unlocked the device. Derek guessed Leach or someone had told him the password. There was silence as Mark did whatever he was doing. Eventually, he looked up at Derek.

"There you go," he said brightly, sliding the device back through to Derek's side. "Turn it on again and it'll be packed with even more stuff for you."

So did that mean it was fixed? It would no longer buzz and have a screen which looked like shit? "Thanks," Derek said. "I'll look forward to listening to it."

…

Just as Derek had expected, Sarcozi hadn't hung around. He was gone five minutes later. Derek had been taken back to his cell and did as Sarcozi had instructed, turning the iPod back on again.

The first time he did it, it made no difference. So he left it while he went for dinner. He'd try again when he got back.

So now here he was, turning on the iPod for the second time. Sure enough, it was no longer buzzing and the screen was perfectly clear once more. It was then that he'd started thinking about what'd just happened, as he lay there on his bed.

Ok. So the iPod had started acting up the night before. Suddenly out of the blue, Sarcozi was there to "fix" it. Derek had contacted Leach as soon as the thing had started playing up and by the next day, it was "fixed" again. Something about this didn't feel right to him. But what? Mark had indeed updated the content, there was now a lot more music and porn on it. But had that just been his cover? A way of disguising what he'd really been doing in case the guards had another look at it? It made no sense. Mark must've known the thing was broken. He wouldn't have just turned up out of the blue, like magic, to update Derek's fucking play list! So why? There was something he wasn't seeing yet, there had to be.

He thought back over his conversations with Dawson. About how the iPod wasn't working when directed at Hayward's cell. He stood up and pointed it down the corridor and immediately heard a door slam somewhere, as clearly as if he was right next to it. So it was working now alright.

That was when Derek Chancer started to join the dots. He was many things, but stupid wasn't one of them. He knew he wasn't a very intelligent man; he'd taken no notice in school and had frequently played truant. His IQ was far from high. But right here, now, he was starting to realise what'd happened. He'd been tricked, tested. That little fucker Dawson was checking the iPod was really working! There was no other explanation for why it would suddenly "break." It hadn't broken at all! Dawson had got Leach or one of his fucking goons to programme the buzzing and crap picture on to it. Then the next day, Sarcozi turns up out of the blue to "update his play list," and hey presto! The iPod is working like new again!

Dawson hadn't believed him. He thought Derek was lying to him. Derek couldn't help but admire and marvel the prick's logic and thinking. He could very well have been lying to him. The fact he wasn't did nothing to soften Derek's anger. If anything, it worsened it. That little shit! The iPod hadn't been broken at all. It'd been programmed to act "broken." That little device Sarcozi had bought had updated the content sure, but Derek was certain his old "friend" had also listened with it briefly, making sure it was actually working. Then when he'd left, he'd contacted Leach to confirm Derek was indeed telling the truth and just like magic, the buzzing and screen problem was gone, as if it'd never been there.