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If they had been in a magazine, could I have had them?’ I enquire. He nods.
6.00 pm
Early bang up. I channel hop so I can keep watching the latest news from Manhattan. I am moved by the sight of the New Yorkers on the streets applauding their firemen as they drive back and forth to the World Trade Center. Americans have a tremendous sense of patriotism and awareness of the country they belong to. It must have been the same in Britain during the last war.
DAY 60 - SUNDAY 16 SEPTEMBER 2001
12 noon
Not a lot to report except Sergio is nervous about leaving. He will be deported in twelve days’ time and we haven’t yet received a valuation for the emerald. He’s also waiting to hear about the second package which contains the gold necklace, and can’t wait to see the photographs of the Boteros, as well as the catalogue raisonne.
I spend a long time reading the papers, and feel the coverage of all that has taken place in America this week elicited the very highest standards of journalism from the British press, not always the case on a Sunday.
DAY 61 - MONDAY 17 SEPTEMBER 2001
6.19 am
The news is still all about New York, where Mayor Giuliani appears to be emulating his hero, Mayor La Guardia. Everything had gone wrong for Rudy Giuliani this year. He stood down from the Senate race against Hillary Clinton when he was diagnosed with cancer, and he then moved his mistress into Gracie Mansion to face the wrath of his popular wife and the Big Apple’s press; in fact to quote the New York Times, ‘he seems to have lost the plot’. And then, without warning, the city he loves is attacked by terrorists and all the talents boredom di
sguises suddenly return.
When I stood for Mayor of London, I spent a week in New York shadowing Giuliani as he went about his daily work, and quickly discovered that he has real power and a real budget to back it up. The truth is that Giuliani runs New York in a way Ken Livingstone can never hope to govern London. Tony Blair’s dream of emulating the Americans with mayors in all our major cities would have been admirable, if only he allowed the mayor to be backed up with finance and executive power. Livingstone can huff and puff, but in the end only Blair can blow the house down.
9.00 am
Pottery. Out of boredom I begin, to Anne’s surprise, to work on a flowerpot. Or that is what I’ve told my fellow inmates it’s going to be. First you take the putty, run a circle of steel through it to cut off a smaller chunk and then roll it out to produce a long thin worm-like shape. You then twist the long thin worm into a circle and several long worms later all placed on top of each other and you have a pot, or thaf s the theory. An hour later I have a base and five long worms. The blessed release bell clangs.
11.30 am
I phone Alison to discover that the gold necklace, the book on Botero, the photographs of Botero oils and a sculpture have all arrived in Cheshire via Bogota.
3.00 pm
Gym. Once again I manage 2,200 metres on the rower.
5.15 pm
Board meeting. Sergio has been on the phone to Bogota for the past forty minutes. Armed with a dozen cards (PS24) and the judicious use of an illegal pin number, he can now afford to spend an hour phoning Colombia. His brother is waiting to find out if I have any interest in the Boteros. I assure him that as soon as I’ve seen the photographs I will make a decision.
6.00 pm
I’m writing at my desk when I hear shouting and screaming in the corridor. I leave my cell to investigate, and see half a dozen prisoners standing outside a cell door at the far end of the corridor. I’m told by Darren that the occupant, Danny (burglar) will be released in the morning, and some of his friends wished to give him a farewell present. Half a dozen inmates have filled a black bin liner with water, and added tea bags, sugar, stale bread, butter and beans. They are now all peeing into it. They then empty the contents onto the hapless prisoner’s bed just before we are due to be banged up. This ensures that he will have to spend his final night cleaning up the cell if he hopes to be released in the morning.
9.00 pm
Dr Starkey continues his excellent series on the six wives of Henry VIII. Tonight it’s Anne Boleyn. Although Starkey spends the whole hour being fairly critical of the queen, one cannot but admire the lady’s last sentiment before being beheaded. Her short speech was full of grace, with no fault placed at the door of Henry VIII She can’t have been all bad.
DAY 62 - TUESDAY 18 SEPTEMBER 2001
Pottery. Carry on producing long worms for my pot, much to the amusement of the other prisoners, all of whom show far more promise than I do. Craig (GBH) is making a horse for his mother, Lloyd (drugs), a heart-shaped jewellery box for his girlfriend, Peter (burglary), another bowl for his aunt and Paul (murder), yet another Christ on the cross.
6.00 am
It’s been a week since the terrorists struck New York and Washington. It now seems unlikely that any more bodies will be rescued from beneath the rubble, although Mayor Giuliani is a long way off giving orders to stop the search while there’s the slimmest hope that anyone might still be alive. He’s lost so many firemen, policemen and city workers and was nearly killed himself that I can’t see him calling off the search for at least another week; this despite the fact that nobody other than the closest of relatives believes that anyone else can have survived.
8.30 am
Danny, the prisoner who had his cell sacked last night, is now bidding farewell to everyone on the spur as he’s due to be released within the hour. He seems to bear no grudges and I watch him shaking hands with Jimmy who tells me later that Danny was probably thankful that his departing gift wasn’t physical, as it was on Mel’s last night. Jimmy doesn’t go into any detail but does admit that Mel had to spend his last few hours on the hospital wing.
