Page 112 of Marble Hall Murders

‘How are you, Susan?’ It was as if he hadn’t heard anything I’d just said. ‘Tell me about yourself. I hear that you’re back in England. Crete didn’t work out?’

‘I loved Crete,’ I said. ‘But I couldn’t live there.’

‘So you broke up with Andreas.’

‘Yes.’

He didn’t sound particularly sympathetic and I got the sense that he was toying with me – that I had become Clarice Starling to his Hannibal Lecter. I had no choice but to play along with him. I needed information from him and although he had very little choice about anything any more, not in this world, he could choose whether to give it to me or not. At the same time, I was aware of the minutes ticking by. A clock on the wall showed ten minutes past three and visiting time finished at four. I hadn’t come here for a chat.

‘It’s a shame,’ he said. ‘I always liked Andreas.’

‘We’re still friends,’ I assured him, although I hadn’t heard from Andreas since I’d left.

‘Are you back in publishing?’

‘I’m doing some freelance work.’

‘It must be very frustrating for you. I’ve been told that nobody wants to employ you any more. I’d happily give you a reference, Susan, although it might not be worth very much nowadays. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who was so dedicated to books – even at the expense of their own life. You always were a bit introverted. I could have told you that Crete wouldn’t work out for you. How many bookshops were there in … Agios Nikolaos? That was where you went, wasn’t it?’

‘Yes. And there were three.’

‘You have absolutely no idea how horrible it is here,’ Charles continued, speaking as if this was the natural riposte to what I had just said. ‘When I came here, I thought I was going to die. It was the smell and the noise in the first week that I remember most. People shouting all through the night, arguing, screaming at the moon. Doors slamming all the time. All the time! And it seemed to me that everyone I met was either dead in the head or psychopathic. One extreme or the other.

‘They put me in the medical wing to begin with and I thought that might be more comfortable but in fact it was vile. Then I went to Beirut.’ He half smiled to himself, a queer little smile that hovered over his lips. ‘You won’t know what that is. It’s what they call Block Three for new arrivals and remand prisoners. Now I’m in Block One. I’m not sure why they’re keeping me here … I mean, in this prison. It’s one of the worst in the whole system, or so I’m told. They call it Hellmarsh. I’d have thought they would have moved me onby now, given my age and my lack of previous convictions. But the first thing you learn about the prison system is never to question anything because nothing ever makes sense. Even the prison officers don’t know what they’re doing – or they may do, but they don’t know why.

‘Hellmarsh is the right name for it. I shared a cell for the first year. I had three different cellmates and they were all as bad as each other. Sometimes we were stuck together for twenty-three hours at a stretch. And the stench of it, Susan. Three men, one toilet, no privacy. I say they were as bad as each other, but Jez was the worst. He’d killed his girlfriend for cheating on him. He tied her up and he tortured her. They say you should never tell anyone what you’ve done to be in here, but he boasted about it. You’d have been quite right to send him here. Even if he was your closest friend. He was an animal and they put me in a cage with him for two months until someone stuck a shank in him in the shower and he was taken away.’

‘Charles, you can’t blame me for what happened …’

‘Things have got a little better for me, though. They say that men who have been to private school always fit in more easily here and that includes me, but what it tells me is that human beings will get used to anything. You learn how to cope with it. Even the food. You should see what they serve here. To start with, I couldn’t touch any of it, but now I put it in my mouth and swallow it even when I have no idea what it is. It’s probably best if you don’t.’

He half smiled.

‘But you see, the thing is, you learn how to play the system. Somehow, you need to get the doors to open. Thatwon’t mean anything to you, not in Crete, not in Crouch End – but a door that opens, even if it’s only letting you into the corridor or out for forty-five minutes’ exercise in the yard, is a little taste of freedom. That’s why I started going to church. Not because I believe in God – because I don’t. Or maybe I do. The vicar gave me a Bible and do you know, I’ve read it cover to cover. She also put me forward to become a Listener, and as well as that, I help with the literacy programmes. Did you know that half the people who come here can’t read? It’s a funny place for a publisher to find himself, although it might interest you to know that one of the writers you discovered – Craig Andrews – is very popular. We’ve got lots of his books in the prison library and I volunteer there too.

‘In return, they’ve given me my own cell. That’s a big deal. I won’t be here much longer. They’ve got to move me. Maybe to somewhere in the country. It would be nice if I could see birds. When I was in Block Three, I could see planes taking off from City Airport and it always gave me a sense of comfort. I could imagine being on them, maybe heading off to the Frankfurt Book Fair with you. No birds ever fly over here. At least, I haven’t seen any. Not one.’

I’d had enough of all this. I hadn’t come here to listen to his endless whining.

‘I want to talk to you about Eliot,’ I said.

‘Eliot Crace.’

‘Yes.’

‘Elaine told me you were working with him. It seems to me that writers don’t have a lot of luck working with you. First Alan, now Eliot.’

‘You knew him when he was a child.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Was that why you agreed to publish his books?’ It was completely irrelevant but I couldn’t help asking.

‘No. I liked them. I thought they’d do well.’

‘We lost thousands of pounds, Charles,’ I reminded him. I swallowed my anger. ‘Eliot believed that someone killed his grandmother, Miriam Crace. He said he saw it happen. Did he ever say anything about it to you?’

Charles contemplated me and I saw that he was enjoying himself. He had no control over his life in Belmarsh, but right now he had a measure of control over me. ‘Give me one good reason why I should help you, Susan.’

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