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‘Right now,’ I ask, ‘or when you’ve completed your report?’ because I can see that he’s only about halfway through the pages that are covered in his neat Spanish hand. He considers this for a moment, and then says, ‘No, I’ll finish first.

The second piece of news,’ continues Sergio, turning another page, unable to suppress an even broader grin, ‘is that Liana’ - his former school friend - ‘has tracked down four Boteros in private hands. In private hands,’ he repeats with considerable emphasis. ‘And they could be for sale. She will send the details to your office some time next week.’ He checks his diary. That will give you twelve days to evaluate them. Evaluate,’ he repeats. Is that the correct word?’ I nod, impressed. ‘

By the time you have decided on a realistic price, I will be back in Colombia and can take over negotiations.’ He closes the A4 pad.

‘I’d better call my son,’ I say, aware the ball is back in my court. ‘Any units left on my phonecard?’ I ask, returning to the real world.

3.17 pm

I call James on his mobile and ask where he is.

‘In the car, Dad, but I’ll be back at the flat in about fifteen minutes.’ I put the phone down. Three units gone - mobiles gobble units. I return to my cell to tell Sergio I won’t know if James has received the fax for another fifteen minutes. This gives Sergio enough time to repeat the highlights of his earlier triumph not unlike replays of Owen’s hat-trick against Germany.

3.35 pm

I call Jamie at the flat and ask him if he’s received the fax.

‘Yes’ he replies, ‘it arrived forty minutes ago.’

‘And does it give you all the details you need?’

‘Yes,’ he replies.

I put the phone down. Sergio leaves me as he has to report for his job behind the hotplate. Although he too has to return to the real world, that grin just doesn’t leave his face.

4.30 pm

Exercise. Darren and I are joined by Jason (conspiracy to blackmail) on our afternoon power walk. We pass Shaun who is sketching Jules, with whom I shared a cell for the first two weeks. He’s now finished Darren and Dale and once he’s completed Jules, he’ll only have Jimmy to do, so he should have a full house by the end of the week.

‘Why do I have this feeling,’ asks Darren, ‘that you consider the Prison Service has only one purpose, and that is to cater for your every need?’

‘That’s neither accurate nor fair,’ I protest. ‘I’ve tried to organize my entire life around the schedule the Prison Service demands. It makes it twice as difficult to carry out my usual routines, but it has put another perspective on the unforgiving minute.’

‘I wish I could work the system,’ says Jason. ‘They had me in for an MDT (mandatory drugs test) this afternoon, a la Ann Widdecombe.’

‘Will it prove positive?’ I ask.

‘No chance, I’m in the clear. What a nerve,’ he adds, ‘suggesting that it was ‘on the grounds of reasonable suspicion’.’

‘Knowing your past record,’ says Darren - well aware that Jason occasionally dabbles in heroin - ‘how can you be so confident you’re in the clear?’

‘Simple,’ Jason replies. ‘For the past three days I’ve been drinking more water than Jeffrey, I must have been up peeing at least seven times every night.’

5.40 pm

We’re banged up for fourteen hours. After I’ve checked over the day’s script, I turn to my letters. I am particularly touched by a missive from Gillian Shephard. She describes herself as ‘your temporary MP’. She offers her support and goes on to point out that, ‘No one can suggest I’m after your vote. After all, members of the House of Lords, convicted prisoners and lunatics are not entitled to a vote.’ She concludes, There’s only one category left for you to fulfil, Jeffrey.’

10.00 pm

I climb into bed and start to think about an aeroplane that’s already halfway across the Atlantic on its way to Heathrow. In its massive hold there is a tiny package, no larger than an Oxo cube, and inside a tiny emerald that will either be on its way back to Bogota in a few days’ time, or hanging on my family’s Christmas tree come December.

DAY 53 - SUNDAY 9 SEPTEMBER 2001

5.39 am

The strangest thing happened last night, and I’m going to have to follow it up today. However, in order for you to be able to understand its significance, I’ll first have to explain the layout of the enhanced spur on A block. The spur is L-shaped, with fourteen cells on each sprig. If I look out of the window to my left, I can see about five of the windows on the adjoining sprig.

Around eight yesterday evening, just after I’d finished writing for the day, I rose from my desk to draw the curtains, when I noticed a woman officer of about twenty-five years of age (I’d better not describe her in detail) chatting to a prisoner through his window. I wouldn’t have given it a second thought - if she hadn’t still been there an hour later… now I’m unable to tell you any more at the moment, because I was banged up at five forty last night, and will not be let out until eight fifteen this morning. I shall then approach the oracle of all knowledge, Darren, and report back to you tomorrow. I have a feeling he’ll know both the officer and the prisoner and - more importantly - be able to throw some light on their relationship.

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