Luke Delaney: The Network

‘Are you sure you have to go? No one will disturb us.’

‘Let’s just say you’re a little older than my usual.’

‘Sometimes needs must.’

‘I haven’t been in here long enough for that,’ Sean explained, ‘and I don’t intend to be.’

‘Lucky you,’ Conway told him, releasing his arm. ‘I’ll see you later.’

‘You know where to find me,’ Sean reminded him, fighting the rising nausea sweeping through his body, ‘and I promise you — you won’t be disappointed.’

Sean sat alone in his cell reading a copy of the Sun that had already been censored by the prison psychiatrist. All images that could be deemed to be stimulating to Rule Forty-Three Prisoners had been removed — pictures of children enjoying the sun wearing nothing but bikinis and swim-shorts, some even less. He looked at the pages, but read and saw nothing as he waited for Conway to take the bait. Having Conway make a play for him sexually hadn’t been part of the plan, but it could turn out to be useful — so long as Sean could handle it. Shortly after lunch a long shadow was cast into the cell. Sean turned his head towards Conway and faked a smile, trying to appear meek enough not to scare Conway off. Conway didn’t tolerate superiors or even equals.

‘Mind if I come in?’ Conway asked politely.

‘Be my guest.’ He entered slowly and sat on the bunk next to Sean, his eyes moving up and down Sean’s torso as he rested a hand on his shoulder. Sean shivered involuntarily and could only hope Conway hadn’t felt his tremor, or had misinterpreted it.

‘So,’ Conway asked, ‘what is it that you have for me?’

‘Well it’s not that,’ Sean answered. ‘Like I said, you’re a little too old for my tastes.’

‘A pity,’ Conway told him sliding his hand from Sean’s shoulder, ‘but if not that, then what?’ Sean began to look around himself, making it obvious to Conway he needed to be careful before he revealed whatever it was he valued so much. ‘No need to worry — my friends are watching out for us.’ Sean could sense the other men waiting outside the cell, watching for any approaching prison officers. ‘We’re quite safe.’ Without speaking Sean stood and crossed the cell, peeling back a poster of a computer game to reveal a white envelope blu-tacked to the wall underneath it. He snatched the envelope away and replaced the corner of the poster, walking back across the cell and sitting close to Conway, trying to act as he believed Justin Cramer would act, passing the envelope to Conway with a nervous grin. ‘And what’s this?’ Conway asked.

‘Take a look inside,’ Sean told him, blinking his eyes rapidly to feign excitement, tapping his foot repeatedly for the same effect. ‘You won’t be disappointed.’

Conway opened the unsealed envelope and peeked inside. ‘Well, well. What do we have here?’ He pulled out the small stack of photographs and flicked through them like they were a deck of cards, showing no trace of emotion as he caught glimpses of the naked children — in the bath, on the beach, the swimming pool, getting ready for bed. ‘How did you get these?’

‘I have a friend who works for an online photo album company. People send their digital photographs to them and they…’

‘Make them into photo albums,’ Conway interrupted. ‘I know the sort of thing you mean. Keepsakes for happy families. Do you have a happy family waiting for you, Justin? When you get out of this stinking dungeon?’

‘No,’ Sean answered, ‘but you already knew that, didn’t you? You know everything.’

‘All I know about the Unicorn is that he is part of The Network and that his real name is Justin Cramer.’

‘Me,’ Sean lied.

‘Maybe,’ Conway told him, sending more electrical shivers down his spine, ‘but as I have never met The Unicorn in person, then I can’t be sure who he really is, can I?’

‘I don’t understand,’ Sean told him trying to look confused.

‘Don’t you?’ Conway asked quickly, searching deep into Sean’s eyes, his own pupils vibrating as they looked for signs of betrayal.

‘You’re confusing me,’ Sean lied again.

‘Am I?’ Conway asked, resting a hand on Sean’s thigh, ‘then I’m sorry, but all will become clear in time.’ What did he know? What did he know? ‘But for now you’ll need to find a better place to keep these.’ He slid the photographs back into the envelope and tapped them with his finger. ‘If your cell gets searched it won’t take long to find them, which I don’t suppose would help your court case, would it?’

‘I want you to have them,’ Sean told him.

‘These are a valuable commodity in here, Justin. What do you want in return?’

‘Nothing,’ Sean answered, forcing himself to be patient, suppressing his cop instincts to drive for the truth and evidence to convict. Conway had to come to him. ‘Not yet.’

Conway stood and eyed him with suspicion. ‘You don’t smoke do you?’

‘No,’ Sean answered. Conway pulled an unopened packet of rolling tobacco from his pocket and tossed into Sean’s lap.

‘That’s worth a lot of credit in here,’ he explained. ‘If you don’t smoke, all the better. You can swap it for phone-cards, toiletries, pretty much anything.’

‘Thank you.’

Conway waved the envelope at him. ‘No, Justin — thank you.’ He gave one last smile and floated from the cell, his minders falling in line behind him.

Sean slumped back on the bunk. The brief meeting had left him feeling physically and mentally exhausted. ‘Jesus Christ. What the fuck am I doing here?’

Two Weeks Later

Sean walked beside Conway while two minders guarded his front and two more his back. The sad column of Rule Forty-Three prisoners shuffled towards the door that led to a holding-pen from which they could make their way into the small exercise yard beyond. Three prison guards accompanied them, their brief to ensure none of the main prison population could get to the men who needed special protection — the rapists and sex offenders, the informants and disgraced ex-cops, although Sean was thankful there were none of those amongst them today. Over the last two weeks Conway had grown increasingly friendly towards him, but more in the way someone might become gradually more affectionate to the stray dog he’d planned on taking in only temporarily than man-to-man, human-to-human, and each time Sean tried to bring up the subject of The Network, no matter how subtly, Conway moved the conversation on. He constantly reminded himself of the need to remain patient and not panic and move too fast. Conway could be and probably was testing him out — seeing how long he remained in prison, no doubt sure that if he was a cop he would have only stayed for a few days — a quick-fire undercover operation looking for fast, cheap information, not as it was now, almost three weeks. Conway was beginning to relax — a little — allowing Sean to inch closer and closer to the core of The Network, but the time living as a prisoner amongst paedophiles and sex offenders was beginning to take its toll, his isolation from the real world dragging him further and further into a melancholy depression. At least most of the other prisoners around him seemed equally solemn — except Conway.

He’d only managed to speak to Kate twice on the phone — their conversations stunted and impromptu-coded. She knew he’d be going undercover for a while, during which time they wouldn’t be able to see each other, but they’d only met a few months previously and she didn’t know enough about him to trust him completely yet. For all she knew he could be tucked up in some semi-detached in Sidcup with his wife and kids. If she put up with this, he decided, she’d put up with anything. Conway’s voice pulled him back inside the prison.