‘Good afternoon. I’m Christopher Gallagher, the governor here.’
He was a thick-set man somewhere around six feet tall with white swept-back hair and a tightly cropped beard of the same colour. He looked as if he were approaching retirement age and was wearing a light grey suit that was struggling to hold in his bulging stomach. They both shook his hand and DI Cole introduced the pair of them.
‘I’m not sure I’m clear why you’re here,’ the governor said. ‘I know you want to talk to one of our inmates in relation to a current investigation…’ He was obviously fishing for information. They weren’t obliged to tell him any more than that. Given the bizarre nature of the crime, they had agreed that no other details should be given to him at that point. They couldn’t really storm into the prison accusing the governor of being negligent in letting a prisoner escape, especially when the inmate was apparently sitting in his cell.
‘That’s correct,’ said Cole, without elaborating any further.
The governor waited for a few moments, obviously wanting to be told more but it was pretty clear DI Cole wasn’t going to give him extra details. There was an awkward silence broken by the clearly peeved prison boss. ‘Right, well, if you want to follow me this way…’
HMP Manchester had been almost completely rebuilt and renamed after a riot in 1990. The locals still called it Strangeways but the older Victorian buildings had either been knocked down as part of the construction or seriously damaged by fire during the protests. Jessica had visited a few prisons and, even though this was for the more serious offenders, its conditions were far better than some of the other places she had seen.
Most prisons had their own interview rooms for situations exactly like this. Sometimes officers would speak to prisoners in the regular visiting room but that only occurred if they weren’t suspected directly of a new crime. The governor brought them across a yard and through lots of sets of locking doors. He didn’t say a word throughout the entire journey, leading them down a host of identical-looking murky yellow corridors and up a flight of steel stairs before stopping outside a heavy metal door and holding it open for them. ‘We’ve set some recording equipment up for you.’
It was hard to label Donald McKenna as a full suspect given the fact he was incarcerated. But, assuming the second test came back as the first had done, his DNA had been found at a murder scene, which would take some explaining. As such, he would be cautioned and the interview would have to be recorded.
The two officers entered the room. ‘This is nicer than our place,’ Jessica said after the governor had left them alone, referring to Longsight station’s own interview room.
Cole started making sure the recording equipment was working correctly. The recording decks seemed to be newer and more reliable than the equipment they had back at the station.
The inspector finished getting things ready and they both sat in silence waiting for their prisoner to arrive. A few minutes later, the door opened again and a man in a suit followed by another male in handcuffs entered. Jessica could see prison guards hovering around the door as it was shut behind them.
The suited man introduced himself as Donald McKenna’s solicitor. Jessica vaguely recognised his face but couldn’t place where from. A lot of people’s features from the legal profession’s defence and duty teams blended into one when you saw them so regularly. McKenna was dressed in regular prison attire. He had dark trainers, dark tracksuit bottoms and a sweatshirt which looked as if it were being worn over a T-shirt. Jessica thought he was in pretty decent shape for a man in his fifties. Like most inmates, his dark hair was cut short and he definitely looked younger than he was. He must work out given the way his muscled shoulders were stretching his top.
Jessica was pretty good