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it.'
    Bayfield Prison, finished late in 1902, was three
storeys high and had four wings on four sides, forming
a central exercise area which could be monitored
from observation posts on each corner. There were
no windows on the exterior walls, which gave the
brick building an imposing, severely functional
look.
    Sally pulled the car up to the parking area and they
walked over to the visitors' entrance and, after the
usual security checks, were shown through to a
waiting area in the front of the prison. Delaney sat on
an orange plastic chair bolted to a wall underneath a
window, then stood up again and paced impatiently,
looking out of the window and wishing he could fire
up a cigarette. He kicked his shoe against the wall
and looked at his watch. Ten past eight and way past
time they should have seen Norrell.
    He paced around the room for a minute more and
had just decided to go and have a hard word with
somebody when he heard the door open and looked
across to see the warden walk in. Ron Cornwell was
a tall man, six foot five but thin. He had pale blond
hair and an apologetic smile on his face. 'Sorry,
Inspector, I tried to get hold of you on your mobile
earlier. And I've been held up on the telephone.'
    Delaney walked over to him. 'What's going on?'
    'You've had a wasted journey, I'm afraid.'
    'What are you talking about?'
    'Kevin Norrell was assaulted this morning. By
some of his fellow prisoners. It was a very serious
incident.'
    'He's dead?'
    The warden shook his head slightly. 'He's in
intensive care in the South Hampstead up the road.
He hasn't recovered consciousness.'
    Sally joined Delaney. 'Comatose?'
    The warden shrugged. 'Unconscious is all I know.'
    'What's the prognosis?'
    The warden spread his hands. 'I don't know; you'll
have to talk to the hospital but it's probably too early
to say.'
    Delaney nodded. 'Who did it?'
    'We're not exactly sure.'
    Delaney glared at him. 'What the hell do you
mean, you're not exactly sure?'
    'All right, Inspector. Just calm it down, will you?
Five men attacked him in the showers early this
morning. He was knifed, hit his head badly. He lost
a lot of blood.'
    'Who were they?'
    'We don't know who all of them were. Two of
them got away.'
    'How?' Delaney couldn't believe what he was
hearing. 'This is supposed to be a secure prison for
God's sake.'
    'Three of the men were badly hurt by Norrell. Two
of them are dead, the other is in intensive care.'
    'And you've got no security footage?'
    'The camera was taken out. That's why the two
officers were dispatched. If they hadn't got there in
time, Norrell would definitely be dead.'
    'And they just let two of them walk away from it?'
    'They were prioritised on dealing with the injured
people.'
    'Convenient.' Delaney couldn't keep the sarcasm
from his voice.
    'What exactly are you implying, Inspector?'
    'What motivated the assault?'
    'You know as well as I do, there could be any
number of reasons. I have it on good authority that
Norrell was involved in the manufacture and
distribution of child pornography. Particularly nasty
child pornography at that. You know what happens
to people like that in prison if they're not in a
segregated unit.'
    'And why wasn't he in a segregated unit?'
    'Because he wasn't charged with paedophile
activities, Inspector, as you very well know. He was
charged with murder and conspiracy to commit
murder. He was a category-A prisoner and treated as
such.'
    'I want to talk to the guards who broke up the
fight.'
    'I'm afraid that won't be possible right away.'
    'Why not? There's been a death, a serious assault.
This is a police matter now.'
    'And an investigation is under way. Your
involvement will need to be officially sanctioned.' He
shrugged, apologetically. 'At this moment it is out of
both our hands.'
    Delaney looked at him steadily. 'You know why I
was due to speak to him?'
    'I do. And I'm sorry.'
    'Then you also know why I'm not going to just let
this