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arrival of agents from the Bureau’s Washington field office. After a further thirty minutes, during which the cordon request was cancelled and the approaching FBI team stood down by a cell phone intervention, a sweating Howitt, his normally red face now puce, arrived at the terminal office, accompanied by the commander and two unidentified assistants.
    So inadequate and unconvincing was Howitt’s flustered improvisation of Mason’s alleged dash for freedom that the commander insisted on the two officers escorting Mason to the parole board meeting, where two FBI agents were waiting as the obvious result of an advanced account of events from the airport. One agent attended the board meeting, from which Howitt was pointedly excluded.
    The official encounter, prepared and rehearsed as Mason was from every well studied and glowing account of his prison behaviour, became an anti-climax by comparison to what had preceded it. Mason recited his thought of relocating to California and rehabilitating within the computer industry – without challenge from anyone on the board – and was introduced to his parole officer, a woman named Glynis Needham who wore a severely cut trouser suit and had a short, mannish hairstyle. In a deep voice she promised to have a list of temporary DC accommodation by the time of Mason’s actual release.
    â€˜There was a situation at the airport?’ questioned the chairman, after what Mason assumed to be all the formalities were completed.
    â€˜Yes, sir.’
    â€˜We’d like you to tell us what happened, as far as you are aware.’
    â€˜I’m really not sure,’ said Mason. ‘I was handcuffed to Chief Officer Howitt when I left White Deer and for the beginning of the flight. It was awkward, obviously, so during the flight Chief Officer Howitt took the handcuffs off. I expected them to be put back on when we got to Washington but Chief Officer Howitt didn’t bother. I tried to keep very close to him when we disembarked but suddenly he disappeared. So I immediately surrendered myself to the airport police, in whose custody I remained and who brought me here, together with Chief Officer Howitt.’
    â€˜You didn’t run, try to escape?’
    Mason was sure he perfectly timed the apparently surprised pause at such a suggestion. ‘The two airport policemen are with me, here. Please ask them what I did when Chief Officer Howitt disappeared. I know only too well how any remission would be destroyed if I had tried to escape. But why should I have tried?’
    The one FBI officer escorted Mason into a side room at the chairman’s announcement that they did intend to hear from the two airport officers. When they were alone the agent said, ‘What the hell happened?’
    â€˜It was like I told them back there.’
    â€˜It didn’t sound too good to me.’
    â€˜It was what happened!’ protested Mason.
    â€˜I wasn’t talking about you.’
    It was thirty minutes before they were recalled to the hearing room. The chairman said, ‘I think we’ve heard all we need to. Ms Needham will be in touch.’
    â€˜Can I make a request, sir, in the light of what happened?’ asked Mason.
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜I really mean what I said about knowing full well how my situation might be affected if there were any further misunderstanding. Could there be an additional escort when I’m taken back to White Deer?’
    â€˜The decision has already been made elsewhere that there should be,’ said the tribunal chairman.
    The fact that Mason had not been told of the impending Washington visit until recreational lock-up the night before, and with the two intervening nights, extended by the full day in between, an almost forty-eight hour break in his routine of hacking into his computer records had been created. At the first opportunity on his return, he tried again and felt an immediate surge of total satisfaction