Behind Dead Eyes (DC Ian Bradshaw #2) - Howard Linskey Page 0,15
of an entourage. He got one of his men to come at me armed with a toothbrush,’ his smile turned grim, ‘with a razor blade attached to it. I was actually quite lucky. He was aiming for my throat but I saw it coming and at the last moment I managed to duck. The second slash caught me on the cheek and it opened me right up,’ he said brightly. ‘There was an awful lot of blood and I had a second mouth for a while until they managed to stitch me up.
‘I was quite proud of myself though,’ continued Bell. ‘After he slashed me, I managed to punch the guy right in the face. I don’t know who was more surprised by that; me or him. Most people go down, you see. They clutch their wounds and beg for mercy but they won’t get any in here. Not me though. I just got angry and thumped him. I think it was all the months of stress and carrying this huge feeling of injustice around with me. I was just waiting to take it out on someone. It’s funny, I used to spend all that time in the gym just to look fit, but I’d been doing weights for so many years that when I finally put those muscles to good use, I dropped that guy on the spot. It might actually be the single most impressive thing I’ve ever done. I mean if a criminal attacked me in the street with a knife and I decked him like that they’d run a story in all of the newspapers, wouldn’t they?’
‘I suppose they would,’ Tom conceded.
‘But not in here. They ran stories alright, but it was “Ladykiller slashed in face by vengeful inmate”, as if the guy actually knew Rebecca. There was no mention of the fact I knocked my attacker senseless. They gave him solitary for that but he didn’t give a shit. Lifers,’ he added ruefully, ‘you just can’t control them.’ Bell added, ‘I don’t regret it though.’
‘You don’t regret hitting him or being slashed open with a razor blade?’
‘Either of those things,’ Bell said calmly. ‘He did me a favour, in fact. Up until that point I’d been sharing a cell with two other men,’ he explained. ‘After they stitched me up I had a few days in the hospital under crisp white sheets. Then, when they put me back, I got a cell on my own far away from the nut-jobs and gangsters – because they heard there were several people in here still keen to kill me. Rebecca has quite a fan club. Anyway the governor knew he would look very foolish if anything else happened to me.’ He pointed to the vivid scar on his face. ‘This made the nationals and he doesn’t like newspaper reports that make it seem like he isn’t entirely in control of his own prison. So I am also in a form of solitary confinement, for my own safety, which I appreciate.’
‘Is that why we are on our own right now?’
Bell nodded. ‘My solicitor wanted to sue the arse off them but I persuaded him not to. Let’s just say the governor appreciated my discretion. I get certain unspoken privileges as a result; one of them is time alone with you here today, as long as Andrew is in the room with us,’ he indicated the prison guard. ‘A cell to myself is another – they can’t guarantee my safety any other way,’ he shrugged. ‘I get a little privacy, I feel safer, my cell doesn’t stink of other men; every cloud.’
‘That’s pretty extreme.’
‘Well I’m in an extreme situation, Tom,’ Bell made a point of looking around the place, ‘haven’t you noticed? They used to hang people here, you know. Out there in the courtyard; imagine that. The last man to be hanged in Durham jail was a twenty-year-old soldier named Brian Chandler, who killed an old lady … with a hammer,’ and he widened his eyes ironically at the coincidence. ‘I suppose they would have hanged me if Rebecca was killed back in 1958 but, as I keep telling everybody, I didn’t do it.’
‘You do keep saying that,’ said Tom, ‘but nobody seems to believe you.’
‘My wife believes me,’ he said, ‘but you’re right, nobody else does, despite the fact there is very little evidence against me.’
‘Did you study English at college?’ Tom changed the subject.
‘Business studies, why?’
‘I was remembering your letters,’ and he quoted from them: ‘The