A Question Of Honour: A Harry Royle Thriller (14 page)

Barker didn't have enough breath left to finish his sentence, as Royle's fist hammered a solid blow to his stomach. Barker folded over like a card table, as Harry moved in fast. He aimed a hard punch to the man's face and quickly countered one of Barker's own blows. The fight was over in less than a minute. A wooden truncheon struck Harry's left shoulder and another jabbed into his right side. The solid wood connected perfectly and Royle fell to his knees in agony. A warder by the name of Robert Preston stepped forward intent on stopping the brutality but felt a warning grip tighten on his arm. Glancing around, he saw it was Samson, one of Barker's cronies, who leaning in close whispered to him. The man told Preston to walk away, or else face the prospect of watching his back for the foreseeable future. At that moment, one of the officers aimed a kick at Royle's head and Harry saw a flash of light and nothing more for several hours.

When he came to, he was in isolation and he could feel a good deal more bruising all over his body. His muscles felt like they were on fire as he lay on the cold stone floor. He realised that someone had come to visit him at last. He cursed under his breath in disgust at the way he knew his friend must have been treated. Devon had come all the way from London and for nothing. Had Jones brought word of Ruth? The not knowing about her was killing him.

Time passed and Harry found his strength returning again and gradually moved through the days of his solitary confinement. Wondering all the time why no other prisoner had pitched in. This he soon discovered and from a surprising source. He was sitting thinking through recent events one afternoon when he heard someone clearing their throat. Looking up he saw a warder leaning around the door-frame. The officer, Robert Preston was known as the best screw in the prison. He was a decent man who really tried to make a difference. Royle started to get up but was waved to remain seated by the other man. The warder came in and smiled a genuine smile at Harry, who returned the smile with a thin one of his own. Puzzled, Royle addressed the officer.

"Good afternoon Sir, what can I do for you?" Harry had had enough, for now. The man shook his head slowly and came into the cell, pulling the door to behind him, leaving just a crack of an opening.

"Look Royle I hear things and what happened to you was disgusting. And the others joining in like that, well that was just cowardly."

Harry looked up at him with interest.

"Was I the only one Sir? I mean did anyone else wade in?"

The man shook his head.

"Just you lad, no wonder, the room was covered. I mean the report said one officer was attacked and two others came to assist. The truth was that four officers stood guard on the other prisoners and three attacked you, it was a setup, I am ashamed to be on the staff here. I mentioned this to a higher authority and was told to mind my P's and Q's, watch my back or be out of a job. I joined the service to be useful, not to bully those in my charge."

"You're all right Royle. I mean I know that you didn't deserve the Cat and that nonsense concerning the ironworks was a pack of lies. Even we officers hear things. I can't do much for you, not day to day, but I have done two things and I hope these will set the record a little straighter, that and show you that we screws are not all the same."

Harry looked at him and asked.

"Two things?"

The man nodded.

"Yes, Royle. I don't like the way you keep getting such a bad press and so I have sent an anonymous letter to Miss Brown, just to set the record straight about you. And I have sent another letter apologising to Mr Jones concerning his reception and explaining that there will be a visiting order ready for him if he will let me know when he next wishes to visit. I included a little something to compensate for his wasted fare too."

The officer left the cell without another word.

A week passed and prison life showed little change. Barker continued to make remarks, but Harry had set his mind to playing meek and mild and this worked perfectly. All he had to do was act as though he had been broken when Barker was around, and be certain to not meet the other man's eyes. Barker was happy keeping his attacks on a verbal level. Harry's mind had turned to the thought of escape and he had decided to look around the prison for any ideas it might give him.

One evening Officer Preston called in to see him. He brought good news and wasted no time in getting to it.

"Royle, I have some information that'll be of interest to you."

Harry looked up at the man from his seated position on his bed. Preston continued.

"Your friend, Mr Jones will be coming to see you Saturday week."

Harry smiled, and then his train of thought caused his smile to drop from his face. Preston saw the look and wasted no time in showing his concern.

"What is it, Royle? Come on out with it?"

Harry blew out a held breath and rose to his feet. He crossed the floor and pushed the door closed behind the officer.

"Mr Preston I think you need to sit down."

The other man looked puzzled and shaking his head looked at Harry with a half smile. Harry continued.

" Mr Preston you're a decent warder and I'm sorry to do this to you."

Preston looked hard at Royle and stood straight, raising his shoulders a little, in defence.

"Listen Royle I play fair, but I'm no pushover."

Harry held up his hand.

"No Preston, you listen. I said you are decent and that stands, and under normal circumstances we'd be friends. But we're not on the same side in here and we both have rules. Rules you've broken."

"Now wait a minute."

Royle continued.

"No you have broken the golden rule, you've gone native and that's the worst. If word gets out, you'll be finished and you know it."

"Royle you wouldn't."

Harry nodded to the man and Preston's face grew white. The officer sat down on the bed. Harry stood over him and leaned in close, his voice becoming a low whisper.

"You and I are going to help one another."

Harry explained his plan and the defeated officer listened in silence. When Royle had finished, the man left without another word, his face a mask of torment and bitter disappointment. Prison routine followed and time marched on, until the day of Devon's visit. Harry was quietly confident that his plan would work, but too much relied on Preston. He had to break out for Ruth and to get back to Soho. He had friends now and Devon would be there for him, as long as he could get to London.

The months had moved along since that day on the court steps and the dark Manchester sky was now pouring late October rain onto the prison yard. He shuddered as the rain turned to sleet. He missed London.

The time came and Officer Barker was obviously shocked to hear Royle's name called to the visitor's area and aimed a sly comment as he passed by, but this fell on deaf ears, as Royle was elsewhere in his thoughts. Devon Jones rose to his feet as Harry walked in and greeted him. They sat down under the watchful eyes of three warders. Harry knew that for his plan to work timing was the key. He knew that it was now in the hands of Preston and he also knew that everything depended on the man keeping his nerve. The visit consisted of little more than small talk, once Royle had realised that Jones knew nothing about Ruth's whereabouts. The all too brief visiting time was soon at an end. A bell rang and the warders walked forward and ushered the visitors from the room. Devon's face was a picture of confusion, as he was conducted from the room. Harry found himself walking in line with the other prisoners when a sudden order halted his progress.

"Royle, fall out."

Preston's voice had a hard edge and was full of authority. Harry obeyed and stood to attention.

Officer Preston continued.

"I need Royle for an interview over at A block."

The other warders nodded, used to prisoner's being taken to see officials and legal representatives. Preston marched Harry at the double and appeared to enjoy at least some illusion of being in command of the situation. After they had passed through two locked gates, Preston showed Royle into a side room, off one of the main corridors. Preston pulled the door shut behind him and stood guard outside. Devon's face was a picture of confusion at the sight of his friend's sudden reappearance.

"Harry mate, I thought we'd never get to talk properly and worse I thought I'd got myself into some strife, you know being too dark in a government building after hours or something. I know that Manchester used to be King of Cotton, but I ain't picking it."

Harry leaned over the table and spoke to Jones both quickly and quietly. Devon Jones listened and nodded, as Harry told him what was happening and what he needed him to do.

"Harry, you don't half 'ave some nerve you know that, right? This could just work. I'll get you what you need, don't worry and I'll get word to Mangusco, even though that geezer scares the hell out of me."

Royle laughed.

"Johnny's not so bad, once you get to know him."

"Can I 'ave that in writing mate?"

Harry slipped out of the room and nodded to Preston, who gave a single nod in acknowledgement. The warder took Royle back to his cell and then quickly let Jones out of the prison. He explained that the man had been taken ill and so had not gone out with the other visitors. There was an odd look from one of the other guards, a new man, thinking quickly Preston made a joke at Devon's expense, concerning him having eaten too many bananas, the laughter eased the tense moment and Devon left the prison front gate without further hold ups.

Robert Preston didn't like the new breed of officers the service was attracting. The place had had an influx of new warders wandering around shadowing the older ones. Preston was concerned with the kind of wisdom the older officers were handing out to their young charges. And the new man stuck with Barker, well, he didn't want to dwell on that thought.

It was three hours later that Devon Jones stirred sugar into his tea, as he sat waiting in a small cafe in Stockport. The cafe was just across from the train station. He was on his second cup, wondering if he should catch the next train when the door opened and she finally walked in. The smart young woman seemed out of place in the dingy little cafe. She quickly looked around and waved a timid glove at Devon, as she came over to his table. The man got to his feet to greet her.

"Devon Jones, pleased to meet you, we spoke on the phone."

The girl looked shocked that he wasn't white but recovered quickly.

Devon grinned at her and offered her a seat. As she extended a hand toward him.

"Hello, I'm Susan Brown, pleased to meet you, Mr Jones. I was just a little surprised."

He nodded.

"Yeah, not too many of us Cockney's this far North".

They both laughed and Devon ordered another tea. He took out his cigarettes and offered one to Susan. They smoked quietly for several minutes before Susan broke the silence once more.

"You know I found it so hard to believe that he was like that, but they said it was him and they even had proof. Why if it hadn't been for that nice prison officer, well I'd still be in the dark and blaming the poor dear. Still I don't see how I can be of any help unless it's as a visitor and to be honest Mr Jones I don't think my folks would be too fond of me doing that and neither would my Bill. He's my young man, we've been walking out for these past six months."

Devon smiled at her.

"He doesn't need a visitor, in fact, I've just come from seeing him."

"Have you, how is he?"

"Don't worry, he's fine. My question is a simple one if the opportunity came to do Harry a good turn, would you?"

The young woman nodded.

"Yes, of course, I would, I will, if ever I can that is. By the way, why on earth did we have to meet in such an out of the way place? I would have been happy at the local Lyons."

"Bless you, Susan on both counts. The time may come when you can help. As for your question. You've a good reputation and being seen on your patch with a coloured boy would not be clever, now would it?"

She smiled.

"I suppose you're right Mr Jones, sad but true all the same."

"And Mum, Dad and your Bill will be happier being none the wiser. Anyway, I've got to catch a train back to London."

Susan Brown's eyes lit up.

"London, how marvellous, you must be very lucky to live there, you know with so much going on."

The man grinned and laughed out loud.

"It's not as romantic as people think, well my neck of the woods is far from grand, but it is my hometown and yes I love it. Thank you for meeting me. He's right about you Susan Brown, you are a nice girl, stay that way."

She blushed and after shaking hands, they both left the cafe and walked across to the station and a train back to the city, sitting in different carriages, at Devon's insistence. Later that night Devon Jones walked into The White Cat and was escorted to the back room by Jenny. Johnny looked up as the two of them entered the room.

"Mr Jones, so how is our mutual friend then?"

Devon nodded nervously.

"He's in good shape and he's even got a plan and a tame warder, as well?"