Free A Walk With the Dead by Sally Spencer Page A

you must be talking about the chief officer,’ Baxter said.
    â€˜Mr Jeffries wouldn’t even think of doing that,’ Fellows said, obviously furious at his colleague for putting him in this position.
    â€˜Then who would?’ Baxter pressed.
    Fellows sighed. ‘There are a few hotheads in this place, but most of the prisoners just want a quiet life,’ he said. ‘And that means that the last thing they need is for an officer to be assaulted while going about his duties.’
    â€˜So the prisoners who want a quiet life break the fingers of anyone who steps out of line?’ Baxter asked.
    â€˜No,’ Fellows replied. ‘As long as everybody knows they’d do it if they had to, there’s no need for any violence.’
    â€˜But there
is
violence,’ Baxter pointed out. ‘Violence was done to Jeremy Templar.’
    â€˜They didn’t hurt him because he stepped out of line,’ Higgins said. ‘They hurt him because he was a sick bastard.’
    â€˜Which brings us neatly back to that morning in the showers,’ Baxter said. ‘What happened?’
    â€˜I was in the shower block, and Officer Higgins was supervising the prisoners in the corridor,’ Fellows said. ‘Then Officer Higgins came into the showers, and asked me to help him deal with a situation that had developed.’
    â€˜What kind of situation?’
    â€˜Two of the men waiting in line had got into a fight, and he needed help separating them. I stepped out into the corridor and dealt with the matter. When I returned to the showers, Templar was lying on the floor of the stall. He’d been beaten up.’
    â€˜And there were only four or five men who could have been responsible for the attack, weren’t there?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜Did you question them?’
    â€˜Yes.’
    â€˜And?’
    â€˜And they all denied having anything to do with it.’
    â€˜What did Templar have to say about it?’
    â€˜Templar knew better than to say
anything
,’ Higgins said, with another sneer.
    â€˜Our hands were tied,’ Fellows added. ‘You can’t charge five men with an attack when only one of them might be responsible, and since Templar refused to help us . . .’
    â€˜I’d like to see the report you wrote on the attack,’ Baxter said.
    â€˜You’ll have to ask Mr Jeffries for it – but it won’t tell you anything we haven’t already said,’ Fellows said.
    â€˜I’d also like to see the other report.’
    â€˜What other report?’
    â€˜The one on the incident that occurred outside the shower block – the one that Officer Higgins called you out of the showers to deal with.’
    â€˜Ah, well, you see, I’m not sure there is one,’ Fellows said uneasily.
    â€˜What do you mean – you’re not sure?’
    â€˜In comparison to what happened to Templar, that was no more than a scuffle, and we may have forgotten to write it up.’
    â€˜But it did happen, did it?’
    â€˜Yes, of course it happened.’
    There were only two possible explanations of the incident, Baxter thought. The first was that there had been no fight in the corridor, and the two officers had invented it to excuse the fact that they’d failed to protect Templar.
    The second was that there
had
been a fight, and that it had been carefully orchestrated to distract Higgins’ and Fellows’ attentions while someone in the showers laid into the pervert.
    Both explanations had their merits, and it was impossible – for the moment – to decide which one of them was the truth.
    â€˜Thank you, gentlemen,’ he said. ‘You’ve been very helpful.’
    And he couldn’t miss the look of relief on Fellows’ face that the interrogation was over.
    Fairfield High School for Girls was about as posh as schools got in Whitebridge. It was situated on the edge of the town, in an old