Free Down Among the Dead Men by Peter Lovesey Page A

friend Archie?”
    â€œArchie has an executive role. He isn’t personally involved.”
    â€œWhat’s it all about, then?”
    Georgina pumped herself up with one of those immense intakes of breath that meant she was about to say something that couldn’t be questioned. “If I were to tell you, it would only be hearsay. Better you learn the facts from the prisoner himself.”
    â€œCan’t wait.”
    By the time they drove onto the car ferry, Diamond decided he’d need to be positive about the state of his stomach. This stretch of sea was Spithead, supposedly protected from strong winds and therefore a safe anchorage for the navy. Even so, the ferry passed close enough to a passing battleship to catch the slipstream and he felt his insides rebelling. Just as well he hadn’t eaten breakfast. It was a forty minute crossing to Fishbourne.
    Promenading along the deck with Georgina (their driver was leaning over the side having a smoke), he concentrated on the view, wishing the blue haze of the island would become more solid.
    â€œYou’re not much of a sailor, then?” Georgina said.
    â€œWhy do you say that?”
    â€œYou’ve gone a dreadful colour.”
    And you’re revelling in it, he thought. She didn’t often catch him in a weakened state. This “terrific team” of Dallymore and Diamond was already malfunctioning.
    Back on dry land, he rallied physically and in spirit. A twenty minute drive brought them to the gates of Parkhurst. Georgina told the officer on duty that they were expected and had documentation as well as IDs and this was confirmed, but they still had to submit to a pat down search at the visitor centre. After a sniffer dog showed only passing interest in Diamond, they were escorted to a private interview room furnished with plastic chairs and a wooden table screwed to the floor. Notepads and pencils were provided.
    â€œThis will be a voluntary statement,” Georgina told Diamond. “He’s made it before and he’s been told we’re police officers following up on the facts.”
    â€œWhich isn’t true in my case,” Diamond said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI can’t follow up on facts I don’t know anything about.”
    â€œYou don’t have to sound so tetchy, Peter. I’m not deliberately withholding information from you. Better you hear from the man himself than getting my second-hand version. Leave the questioning to me. Listen and make notes.”
    The man brought in by a prison officer looked more like an advert for hearty eating than a deprived convict. He was at least a couple of sizes larger than Diamond. He grinned at his visitors and said, “Danny Stapleton, at your service.” Turning to the warder, he said, “You can go. I’ll be safe. They look harmless.”
    Georgina wasn’t amused. She said, “The officer stays.”
    Stapleton spread his hands. “Your choice.”
    â€œSit down, please.” She introduced herself and Diamond. “We’re from Avon and Somerset police.”
    â€œAvon and . . . ?” The man gave another knowing smile. “I get it. The local fuzz are tainted. You’re not.”
    â€œEnough of that.” Georgina took control. “Any more backchat from you, and you’ll be straight back to your cell. I’m told you claim to be wrongly convicted.”
    â€œI’ve been claiming it ever since I was slung in here,” Stapleton said. “I’m an innocent man. You want to hear?”
    â€œThis is your opportunity. But understand this, Mr. Stapleton. If any of what you say is false—any part of it—your credibility will be demolished and you won’t see us or anyone else again. So you’re not in court under oath, but you might as well be.”
    â€œNo problem,” he said. “Honest to God, this is what happened. Seven years ago, I’m living in LA.