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He couldn’t sleep, there wasn’t a point any longer....
The first light of dawn broke through the narrow, barred window of his cell, the small room that had been his world for the last two years. All this time he had battled the system, done everything he could to try and resist the inevitable, everything possible to just stay here, even if it meant he spent the rest of his days in this same room, but it had all come to nothing. This was his last full day alive, tomorrow he faced the gallows at dawn...
The door to his cell banged softly and he heard the viewing slit being lowered. He was laying on his side, facing the wall in the thin bunk that had been his bed, and the routine of the prison told him what the question was going to be, before the voice even spoke. “Want a shower...?”
He had heard the same question countless times, on each occasion, it had been posed in a deadpan, dour tone that showed no compassion for him. But this time it was put to him in a softer layer, in a way he hadn’t heard at all in this bitter, heartless place. It made him look up and shift in his bed, reacting by it by slowly lowering his feet to the floor as he sat up, and he nodded softly at the eyes watching him.
The viewing slit slammed shut as he stood upright and turned away from the door, willingly placing his hands behind him, while he heard the keys behind the door jangling heavily as the cell key was selected and located into the lock. He could hear the tumblers turning, then the door creaking as it slowly swung open....
He sighed, waiting to feel the handcuffs lock onto his wrists, but instead he heard a second voice. “At ease prisoner, turn around.” He did as was requested, lowering his hands to his side as he did so, to see the Governor looking at him through the circular-framed spectacles that perched on his balding, rounded face and besuited, squat frame, while two of the Wardens stood at his side, hands near their short truncheons, just in case.
“Come to speed this up this Governor,” he asked in an almost sarcastic way?
The reply was unexpected, a long, heavy sigh, that was followed by him indicating for his escorts to relax, before he suggested, “Michael, take a seat, we’re beyond the normality now....”
He shrugged as he turned and perched on his small, plain, wooden chair he used to sit at his desk, writing the letters and diary that were his last communications with the outside world. He’d written most of the last of his notes before lights out last night, and the only real thing left for him to do was complete the final entries of his diary. He laid his hand across his book, noting, “I wasn’t ever expecting you to use my first name Governor?”
“It doesn’t matter, not anymore. The formalities, the names, it’s all meaningless now. Today, call me John.”
Michael gave him a sideways glance, “why should today be any different?”
The answer was unexpected, “it’s 1948 Michael and we all carry the memories of the war, the fear of death affecting us, the price our families had to bear, the blood of the battlefields we all served across.... I saw your records, the hells you served in. Your battles across North Africa, then Sicily and up into Italy. You’re a hero Michael, just like so many others are, and your decorations numerous....”
“.... It means shit now!”
“That’s not true,” John replied. “We won and you did more than your fair share to liberate so many from oppression. Then you come home and do this.... Why? What demons made you do this?”
In reply, Michael rapped his hand on his diary, before standing to attention, then turning away and offering his hands behind him, while telling his Governor, “it’s time for my shower....”
John shook his head at the stubborn prisoner, “there’s still time.... Tell someone, if not me, at least someone. We all had our fair share of pain and destruction during the war, and the punishments in the years since have felt just, but you.... Your punishment, something isn’t right this time.... I don’t think you deserve this?”
With his back still turned, Michael replied, “I tortured a vagrant to death, chopped bits off of her until she died from blood loss! Of course I deserve this!”
John drew a heavy breath, before admitting, “you didn’t though, did you? Everything about your time here has been impeccable, a true model prisoner. Everything I have learned about you these past two years; it points to a man resigned to his fate, not the cold-hearted bastard the judge and jury made you out to be….”
“What do they know? Why do you care?”
The Governor looked at the two Wardens standing close by his side. “He doesn’t need the handcuffs today, give him that dignity.” Then he turned his attention to the prisoner, “if you cause no trouble, you don’t need restraint. The Wardens will stand by you for this period, and you will be kept isolated from the other prisoners from now. This afternoon the whole prison will be locked down, to ensure your privacy for this time, and your family is coming for their visit, before your evening meal is served.”
Michael turned around and lowered his hands to his side, “thank you Guv’.” Then he checked himself and added, “John….”
With a final nod, John turned away, but Michael could sense the weight on his brow as he did so. Then he paused in the door and added, “your legal team will see you soon, I know their final attempts at a reprieve will be heard in the courts until the last minute, don’t give up hope just yet….”
Michael thought about the detail for a few moments, before dismissing his opinion. “It’s time I pay for my actions…. I’m tired….”
John turned away leaving Michael to the Wardens, so they could escort him to his shower.
Since he was the first to shower this morning, the water was warm and welcoming, making him spend a little longer in it than he should have done, one of the Wardens had even brought some soap down from their own showers and offered it to him, and he found it was of a much better quality than the usual one they used, allowing him to build a good lather to cleanse his hair and skin, even making him feel clean after the wash, rather than just having the impression of feeling refreshed....
The Wardens were respectfully keeping their distance as they allowed him to dry himself on a towel they had laid across one of the steel radiators, which he noted was turned up to the maximum and was hot as a result for once. It felt fluffed and comforting as a result, totally different to the cold, neutral atmosphere that usually accompanied him through his mundane daily tasks, and when he was dry Michael learned that his dirtied clothes were removed, letting him instead dress in new, fresh prison pants and shirt. He spotted they were brand new, freshly pressed and waiting for him on a coat hanger, something he hadn’t seen his entire time he had been here, and one of the Wardens only approached to reclaim the hanger as he dressed, ensuring it wasn’t lost to either himself or someone else who discovered it.
Refreshed and showered, the Wardens escorted Michael back to his cell, to discover the Wardens had tided it, cleaned his bed and his desk, even bookmarked the book he was reading and replaced it into the alcove he used to keep the book borrowed from the library safe. He smirked as he realised the ulterior motive behind the compassion, in that they had searched his cell for anything illegal, while he had been showering, but he didn’t mind. There was nothing to find, there never was, or would be, but he did appreciate that they had slopped out his bucket for him, saving him from the task that ensured a shower was pointless, unless you did it before....
The tones of the Wardens were soft and compassionate as they followed him into the cell, and another Warden appeared, carrying a breakfast tray of porridge, buttered toast, a fried egg and two rashers of bacon they must have saved for him, all washed down with a mug of the thick, heavy tea that was the staple hot drink of this miserable place. Normally, he was lucky to get it lukewarm, but this morning it was hot and steaming, and the aroma actually suggested it was freshly brewed, rather than the dregs they usually got after the Wardens had finished with it.
His stomach rumbled and he sat to tuck in at his desk, while the Warden that had brought the meal took a step back, calmly telling him, “we have to leave you locked in until 2pm. We’ll lock the rest of this place down then, and you’ll be given time for your family visit.”
Michael was busily building the egg and bacon into a toasted sandwich, but thanked them for the detail, before they backed away and closed the cell door as they exited. The lock clunking as the key turned the bolt, sealing him in....
Now he was alone he ate hungrily, devouring the tray of food and delighting at the flavours on offer, everything tasted fresh, hot, even seasoned with salt and pepper, the porridge also had a little sugar sprinkled across the top of it. It made him deduce that this was a breakfast from the Warden’s own canteen, and the bacon and egg were something someone had brought in especially for him. Rationing was still in effect outside of this place and there was no way a prisoner should be able to enjoy such a luxury!
With his breakfast eaten, he placed the empty tray on his bed and turned to his diary, writing new passages and thoughts into the pages, before turning to his letters and spending some time writing new ones, while adding to those still waiting to the sent, but there was only so much he could write, and he eventually set his pen aside, picking up the book to read more. He still had a few hundred pages to go and he wanted to know how the narrative played out, while he still could....
His writing and reading was being constantly disturbed though, every few minutes there was a rapping on the cell door, and a voice would tell him they were thinking of him, how this was unjust and shouldn’t be happening, and wishing him luck for the coming hours. He answered them all with sincere thanks as these were his fellow prisoners, and his story had spread like wildfire around the prison. Friend and foe alike were all there for him now, nothing mattered any longer....
As the lunch period passed, things began to settle as the Wardens began to lock down the prison ahead of the afternoon. There didn’t seem to be any trouble and the atmosphere hung heavy and cold, but there was a final tapping at his door, then the sound of singing filling the wing of this prison.
He looked up from his book, the song taking his attention and making him think where it coming from. It took him a moment but he realised what was happening, it was the prison choir.... They must have gathered in his block, and were now singing for him!
He moved to the door and began to match their words, picking up the chorus as they sang, and he could hear other voices joining, making him understand his entire wing was now singing with them, their final, happy, uplifting songs to keep his spirits high. Their only way to give him comfort in these final hours.
As he stood by the door the viewing slit was lowered and he could see that there were two Wardens stood outside, but even they were singing, along with every voice this wing could muster!
The impromptu concert carried on for three rousing songs, before the wing erupted into a round of applause and cheering as he could hear the Wardens leading the choir away, then a chant began to emerge from all the other cells, quietly gathering in strength until the entire wing was chanting his name.
“Michael, Michael, Michael...!”
The tears finally began to well in his eyes as he could see John arriving through the viewing slit, and he respectfully backed away as the door unlocked, allowing the Governor entry to his small world. The wave of chanting followed him in as Michael deduced he was carrying an oversized envelope in his hand, making John comment, “you requested this?”
Michael nodded, “thank you, John....”
The Governor smiled weakly. “it’s time for you to see your family, your mother, wife and daughter have arrived, along with your lawyer, and they are waiting for you to join them for a meal. You can have this afternoon in their company, before you will be moved to your new cell this evening, where the Padre you wished to meet will spend the night in your company. If you have any requests for possessions, please select them now, and I’ll ensure they are moved for you to enjoy this evening.”
He looked around the room, understanding this was the last time he was to see this small, personal cell that had held him these past two years. He took a moment to digest the information, before deciding, “just my book, my diary, my pen and the envelope I requested.” He pointed to his desk, where a small, neat stack of letters and a folded sheet of paper were waiting, “all my affairs are in order and prepared. Please honour the instructions and ensure they are posted to the individuals addressed.”
For a second there was silence, then Michael was sure that a tear was starting to well in the corner of John’s own eye, making him began to realise that no one thought the punishment he was facing was just in his case. “I will do as you ask,” he added, lightening the atmosphere with, “I’ll even send each one of these letters first class.”
“.... Thank you....”
“Now come,” John requested, “let’s not keep your family and friends waiting any longer, and give you as much time as possible in their company....”
Michael nodded in agreement and smiled as he left his cell, since every other door in this wing was banging. Every prisoner showing their last chance of support for him, from the confines of their own cells....
The visit lasted four hours and had a jovial, party atmosphere, the few family members and his lawyer putting on as brave a face as was possible with the inevitable coming on the dawn. Michael was determined to not let his young daughter down though, and ensured she was kept as happy as possible in the oppressive atmosphere. She was only a year old and didn’t understand what was happening.
The Wardens had given them the entire canteen to enjoy and didn’t get involved, allowing him to hug everyone multiple times and even enjoy holding his daughter in his arms as he gently rocked her to sleep. His wife was pregnant when he was arrested and charged, so the child had never seen him at home, which was what felt the worst for him. He had so much to live for, and no way to embrace that potential.
The mood of the event became sorrowful at the end, and with one final hug and kiss, he was forced to say his goodbyes, before he got a few moments with his lawyer, who confirmed they were out of options. He’d tried a last-gasp attempt at the Court of Appeal, but that had been dismissed, and outside of clemency from the P.M. or Home Secretary, he was condemned to die at dawn….
Michael took the news with a brave, stoic response, thanking the team for everything they had done and tried these last few years, but that they were to now follow his instructions for after his death, ensuring his remains would be returned to his wife and mother, once the prison service had released them.
His legal representative confirmed it would happen, and then they too were forced to say their goodbyes, knowing that it was to be the last time. No one, apart from the Executioner, a few Wardens, the prison Doctor and the prison Governor would be present at the actual execution.
With his formal visits completed, John led Michael away from the canteen area and towards a different area of the prison complex. The wing he was brought to was smaller and an extension of the central corridor that ran through the main complex of wings. It was at the far end, and usually kept closed to all including the Wardens. The only time it was opened was for events like now, or for when the worst offenders had to be kept isolated from the more regular prison population.
The cell he was shown to was rather different to his more restricted environment, on the first balcony and almost feeling like a palace by comparison, sporting four chairs around a table, a decent bed and a wardrobe in an alcove on the far wall, while his book, diary and envelope were sitting on the tabletop. A smartly-dressed man was waiting for him and he offered his hand for Michael to shake without saying a word….
John introduced him as he accepted the handshake, “this is,” but he paused before continuing, “Mr Chalmers…. He will take care of everything in the morning….”
Mr Chalmers smiled at him and produced a tape measure. “This may seem grotesque, but please may I make some measurements?”
Michael sighed before asking, “for my casket?”
“No,” he replied with a little compassion. “I have a series of charts to follow, they ensure the drop will break your neck cleanly, allowing the minimum pain. No one in this business wants to see anyone undergoing this suffer. Our aim is always to be as quick and painless as possible….”
“Very well,” Michael decided. “You may take your measurements….”
Mr Chalmers smiled softly at him and nodded. “I will only be a few minutes.”
He didn’t take long, gathering the data he needed, and John found he worked with a deft, delicate and respectful touch, meaning he finished and logged the data he required with Michael barely being inconvenienced. It resulted in Mr Chalmers offering his hand again and departing after barely ten minutes had passed, everything now in order for the dawn....
John watched from the side of the chamber and waited until the essential task was completed, before informing Michael, “your meal will be served shortly, and then your Padre will arrive.”
Michael nodded his thanks and settled down on the bunk with his book, taking it from the table and focusing on the last set of pages he had to finish, “thank you John.”
The Governor noted his calm, composed and focused attitude, “do you require anything else...?”
“No.... But thank you for asking.”
With there little else to discuss, John turned away, noting, “two Wardens will be standing at your door. If anything is a problem, you only need to ask for help.”
Michael looked up from page momentarily, “very well,” then his focus returned to the pages, showing that he wished to be alone for a while....
John ushered everyone out of the room, leaving the Wardens to stand ready once the door was locked, and the condemned man was left to his own thoughts and reading for an hour, before his meal was delivered, a hearty lamb stew with dumplings, a small slice of bread and even supplying a mug of beer in one of the prison’s metal cups.
He hadn’t asked for any special treatment but John had decided to offer some, giving him a sizable portion of the meal the staff were enjoying in their own canteen and bringing in the bottle of beer from his own, personal supplies. Most of the resources were still heavily rationed and he’d be in a lot of trouble if those monitoring the resources discovered what he had done, but Michael deserved this. John hadn’t felt so uneasy about a hanging before and during the war he’d served on the teams supporting the higher ranks, from the earliest months of the war, in the dark days they were trapped in Great Britain, then with the American liaison unit that resulted in him spending a year in the States with the embassy staff, before returning to join the Normandy invasion support units, and that ended up with him at his last post, managing a prisoner of war camp in Eastern France, holding a lot of exhausted, broken, German troops, many of whom were little more than kids, dressed in the remnants of service uniforms that barely fit their frames in the first place....
He’d been demobbed shortly after his camp closed and his prisoners repatriated, but the experience made him decide he would apply to the civilian prison system, and was shocked when his application for prison Governor was accepted. But through all of his military and civilian life, he’d seen the executions, the firing squads, the many gallows, and each time he’d felt like the punishment was just and deserved, not this time.... He knew the crimes were vile and deserving of the sentence, but Michael.... It wasn’t him, nothing about them fitted who he was as a person.... He was holding something back, something he was ready to take to the afterlife.... If only someone could get through to him?
A few hours had passed, the atmosphere only becoming lower and more tense as every second ticked by. The sun had set and the cool of the mid-spring evening had set across the prison, but the longer daylight didn’t help John raise his spirits, he was never a religious man, matching Michael himself in regards to his faith, but he’d requested this particular individual to spend the night with. John was almost praying that whatever their bond was, it would be enough....
There was no way he was going home tonight, he had already informed his wife of his decision, and he spent a moment staring at the stack of letters they had collected from Michael’s cell, before ensuring each one was affixed with a first class stamp, then he looked at the sofa in the corner of his office the thin blanket draped across the back of the cushions. He’d grab a few hours when he could, he could feel the haze of drowsiness already settling upon his eyes....
His vigil at his own desk by broken by one of the Wardens appearing, informing him that Michael’s final visitor had arrived and he hurried down to greet this individual. Michael had requested his presence for this time a month earlier, the first time he knew that the date was set. They’d taken a few weeks to track him down, but John had access to Michael’s service records and knew this man had been the Padre for his unit, fighting at his shoulder through the entire war, if anyone could reveal Michael’s last secret, it had to be him.
Hastening down to Michael’s cell, he encountered the exact opposite of the man he was expecting. This man was tall, bearded, spindly and sporting a visible scar on his forehead, no doubt a shrapnel wound from the war, now faded and hidden in the creases of his brow. John offered his hand and introduced himself, while the individual shook his hand and warmly named himself as Simon, but he said little more as he was escorted through the final gate and onto the balcony, stopping before Michael’s cell door. The Warden to the left unlocked it and allowed Simon to pass, before locking it behind him, leaving John to decide to wait here, something told him he should do that.
Simon entered the sizable cell, and discovered Michael still laying in his bunk, the finished meal tray still on the table and reading the last few pages on the book he was ensuring he completed, but he instantly lowered it and rose to embrace his friend, offering him a tight, respectful hug, one that suggested the bond between the two of them was very close, and when they broke apart, it was Simon who asked, “what have you got yourself into this time Michael...?”
Michael laughed softly, “your guidance can’t put me back on the right path, not this time anyway,” as he indicated for them to both to sit at the table....”
Simon thought, before deciding, “in one moment,” before he gathered the tray, returned to the door and requested them both mugs of tea to enjoy as the Wardens opened it to check on his request?
Michael heard John himself confirm that he would arrange their hot drinks, before the door closed again and was locked once more. But Simon calmly walked to the table and sat with his friend, wondering, “why did you request me at this time, you knew I wasn’t a man of the cloth any longer?”
Michael sighed, admitting, “I didn’t know who else to trust, and I need you to ensure you’ll carry out my personal requests for the coming days?”
Simon sighed gently, “I’ll do what I can, my resources are quite limited now, but I still have some individuals that owe me favours from within the mechanisms of the church itself....”
The mugs of tea arrived, and one of the Wardens carried them to the table, allowing both of the seated men to offer their thanks as he departed.
With hot drinks in their grasp, it was Michael who was forced to ask, “why did you leave the Church, Padre?”
Simon chuckled, “I was never overly-religious, and at the start of the war I was something of a contentious objector. I wasn’t going to prison though, so signed up for the training to become a Padre. At least being a man of God kept me away from the heaviest fighting, only wielding a rifle when I had to....”
Michael laughed loudly, “that explains most of your behaviour then. We all knew if there was something we needed, you’d have ways of sourcing them. Extra rations, booze, ammo.... None of us knew your channels but we all knew you had fingers in every pie.”
Simon smiled himself, “favours of the cloth.... Most men would offer their limbs for some spiritual guidance in their darkest moments. I heard a lot of confessions I rather wish I didn’t....”
“.... And now, you must hear mine,” Michael sighed, knowing his time was almost done. “I’m sorry I dragged you back into that life Simon.”
“No, don’t be,” Simon reassured him. “I saw the story of your arrest in the papers, have my own memories of what we saw as we fought our way across the Mediterranean coastlines.” He paused to take a sip of his tea before noting, “I knew that you were not the same person who committed those crimes in North Africa, Italy....”
“.... Because I’m not,” Michael confirmed. He looked up at the barred window and seemed lost in thought for a moment, but Simon calmly waited for him to continue, letting the peace and calm settle, allowing Michael to compose himself. He eventually broke the quiet by admitting, “I was set up, because I knew all along which of us did it!”
“You did?”
Michael took a gulp of his own tea, and told him, “good old Corporal Barnes...”
“Raymond Barnes? He was your best friend, the pair of you saved each other so many times in combat....”
“That didn’t stop him having a cold-bloodied, murderous side. Now I have to hang on behalf of that bastard!”
Michael was becoming visibly agitated at the mention of the name of his former friend, so Simon employed the techniques he employed during his military service. He calmly settled and softly suggested, “just relax Michael, tell me everything. I may not answer to the Lord directly these days, but I will hear your story and confession. While there’s still time...?”
Michael stood and paced around the sizable cell a little, clearly trying to compose his own memories and thoughts, before he did something Simon wasn’t expecting... He shrugged, before he sat down again, finishing the mug of tea before him and suggesting he was going to tell him everything.
Simon raised his hand before Michael began, allowing him to finish his own tea, before suggesting, “give me a moment, I have an idea your Governor may be able to help with....”
Michael gave him a confused look as Simon picked up the two mugs and carried them to the metal door, tapping on it and quietly talking to the individuals beyond it for a moment, before it closed again and he returned, offering one to him. “I knew he was the type of gentleman to carry a hip flask.... Go on, it’s brandy. Not the best stuff, but there’s plenty left, including one more for you come the dawn.”
Michael chuckled, “as resourceful as ever....”
“Part of knowing what is available is reading the body language of the person you are talking to. Your Governor is troubled, stressed and upset about what is happening, even he is sure you didn’t commit the heinous offences you were convicted of and I could tell he’s calming his mood with a few sips of this stuff....” There was silence for a moment, before he continued, “why didn’t you tell him your story, explain the secrets behind your innocence?”
Michael considered the question, before replying, “I didn’t know who to trust, the threats still dangling over my wife and daughter.... Raymond Barnes is a dangerous, unpredictable man!”
Simon could see the unease written on Michael’s face, and told him, “start at the beginning, tell me everything. We have the whole night together and I’m not leaving your side until your time comes. You clearly need my help and comfort at this time, it’s the least I can do....”
“You’d do that...?”
Simon nodded slightly, “I’ve done it once before.... Back when we were in Italy I had to provide council for an Italian gentlemen convicted as a collaborator and spy. I sat with him all night, leading him in prayer, knowing he faced a firing squad at dawn.... I’ll provide you that same comfort now and ensure your death is swift. I will personally carry the news to your family, at least that should give them some comfort.”
Michael smiled weakly and nodded, “very well…. If this is your wish, I appreciate your choice. Thank you.”
“There’s one price, allow your Governor to hear your story as well….”
“.... Why the hell would I do that?”
Simon noted, “telling more than one will make your story easier to believe.” Then he raised the cup, adding, “and because he’s got the drinks…?”
Michael couldn’t resist laughing heartily at Simon’s attitude and once he settled down, decided, “okay….”
Simon stood and returned to the door, returning with John a moment later, a Warden still at his side. “I understand you wanted to see me?”
“Thanks for the brandy,” Michael told him, then he sighed, “I want you to hear this, and I assure you I will be no trouble, the Wardens can wait at the door.”
“I totally believe him,” Simon added.
For a second, John glanced at them both, then without turning to look at him told the Warden, “wait outside. I’ll be fine….”
“This is against every rule in the book,” the Warden noted….
“Forget the rules! No one will care, cover for me and wait outside,” John snapped!
With little option the Warden did as he was ordered to, locking the door behind him as he did so, and allowing the three men some privacy in such a close, difficult environment to have that….
Simon looked at John, and suggested, “take a seat, please join us. Let’s all be equal, just for now.”
Michael watched as his Governor did as was suggested, perching on one of the free chairs and producing the brandy flask from his inside jacket pocket…. “Since you know I have this,” he noted as he took a small swig himself and then offered a little more to the two cups Michael and Simon were holding….
“I never expected you to be a heavy drinker,” Michael noted?
John chuckled, “I’m not normally. But this, you…. It’s got a little too much for me.”
Taking a swig of his own cup, Simon suggested, “maybe you can help ease his mind?”
Michael sighed, “I deserve prison, at least for some time, but not the noose. I feel like I’ll only make things worse for you John….”
“Why, some time,” John wondered?
“With holding evidence, perjury, maybe? I’m as much a victim as the men and women; Raymond Barnes has killed. He should be here, he’s the one that’s framed me, and has now blackmailed me to my death, taking my silence to the grave, or so he thinks...?”
John looked at Michael, before asking Simon, “Raymond Barnes, Corporal Barnes? I read that name in your service records. Who is he?”
Michael sighed and took a sip of brandy to settle his mind, before telling him, “he was my best mate, all the way through the war. We fought in the same unit, first meeting at Alam el Halfa, then being at each other’s side as we fought our way across North Africa…. It was there the trouble began….”
“Trouble,” John noted as he sipped at the hip flask again?
Michael nodded, “the advance went great, we all knew that. But on two occasions we moved forward, to learn that the locals had found a mutilated body in our wake. On both occasions we were the unit providing part of the garrison for the town and on both occasions, we later found that the victim was rumoured to be an enemy sympathiser, feeding them intel on the other residents of their area during their occupation.” He paused to sip from his own mug, before adding, “we learned that the bodies had their fingers and toes cut off, and they were found gagged, tied to furniture after being subdued by a blow to the head, they’d had the torture done to them while still alive, the individual involved doing it and leaving them to bleed to death after they had finished….”
John shivered, “did the finger point at you?”
Simon intervened, “it wasn’t just him, the entire unit was under suspicion as a group effort, and that included myself! The brass took it as some form of sick retribution and after the second victim was found, the unit was broken up and separated. Trying to isolate the individual, let alone the fact the tension between us was becoming unbearable. We all suspected each other, but none of us had any evidence to prove anything.”
John looked at him, appreciating his honesty, “we all heard stories of our fellow soldiers, the nightmares we experienced, the way some of them cracked under the pressure, the horrors others endured. We all keep secrets we won’t tell anyone again from those days….”
“For us it was worse,” Michael admitted, “we knew one of us was a calculated killer but we couldn’t identify them. Thankfully, after we were broken up, there were no more killings in our wake and we thought that was the end of it, for two years…. Then it happened again, in Italy, six months before the slaughter was over in late ‘44....”
“You mean, the deaths followed you?”
Michael nodded sadly, “because of the length of time, the officers never made the connection, but we did. The attack was too similar, fingers and toes cut off after the victim was subdued and tied up, another likely collaborator…. We thought all that was behind us, left behind after we were split. But here it was all over again! Then Private Lennox gets shredded by a grenade a few days later, and the rumour starts going round that he had confessed the crimes a few days before…. There were no more bodies following in our wake, and we just accepted it that he was the individual committing these acts. We were so jaded by the almost ceaseless combat; we had no fight left in us to question it.”
John asked, “who started the hearsay about Private Lennox?”
“Corporal Barnes of course,” Simon guessed…. “I didn’t hear the news direct from him, but looking back it would have been obvious.”
As he swallowed down a little more his brandy, Michael admitted, “it was him…. I should have figured it out there and then, turned him in, but we were too jaded and lack of sleep was not letting me think straight. I stayed quiet and the war ended, both of us getting demobbed by the summer of 1945, I didn’t see him again for a year....”
John looked at SImon, “you mean, 1946, the crime you were tried for?”
Simon gave him an honest look back as he sipped at his brandy, “when he was arrested, I knew it was linked back to those mysterious deaths during the war, but in the bloodshed we all suffered during those years, who is going to pay the slightest bit of attention? Most of us just want to get on with our lives, forget all about it.... The only thing I was sure of, was that Michael wasn’t the culprit, it didn’t ring true with me, since on the night it happened in Italy, he was with me.”
John had the hip flask to his lips and balked on the liquid, nearly spitting a bit of the valuable spirit onto the table. He cleared his throat and asked, “you were?”
Simon nodded, “as Padre, it was part of my job to keep morale up, and another unit was given a night off after a prolonged period on the front line. I had access to a film projector and some movies, so I borrowed them for the night, along with some booze for them to have a party in an abandoned farmhouse they were using as a makeshift barracks. Michael was one of the few who had the right permits, so he offered to drive if I got the transport, which I did. He spent the night watching the movies at the side of me, drinking a bottle of decent, local beer as he did so.
“You know he’s innocent,” John realised!
“The problem is proving it,” Simon summarised. “We all know the state of the records from the war, mixed up, jumbled, a lot of them lost, more now myth and secrets.... There’s no way anyone has pieced together the evidence, and now, Michael has to die as a side effect of this.”
John looked at Michael, “the crime you’re hanging for, it was this Corporal Barnes?”
He nodded, continuing his story, “I got married and settled down, I met my wife while I was in training, she was one of the clerks serving with the office staff and she was stunning, she stole my heart. We settled down in East London after my demob, her own superiors allowing her to step down at the same time. We bought a house and she got pregnant with our daughter, we were so happy, then Raymond Barnes comes back into my life.... I met him in my local pub one night, he was in London doing some work as a travelling rep, he’s living in the Midlands somewhere, Coventry I think...?”
He looked at Simon with a bitter, knowing expression, and the former Padre let him sip at his brandy as he concluded, “he killed again, didn’t he?”
Michael nodded, “we spent the night catching up on old times, ignoring the dark secret we both knew about and just being happy, but afterwards he went and killed again, an old woman, did the same torture to her what he did to his other victims, it all made sense looking back, the torture and blood loss, I’ve learned through the papers he’s struck at least once more before I ended up in prison.... But on this occasion he made a mistake. He normally dumps the bodies where others couldn’t find them until he was long gone, that didn’t happen this time, something came up with his work keeping him in London for a few days, so he panicked and used me to cover his tracks....”
Simon looked at Michael as he told them all this detail, “I’m so sorry.”
“You can still help me, but I need to finish my story.”
“... Go ahead.”
“Barnes realised he would still be in London when the body turned up, so he lured me to the ruined buildings he had hid it in. He spent time talking to me, stupid things that didn’t make sense, but making me place my hands in deliberate places, while he wore gloves of course.”
John realised and finished the story for him, “they pick you up because your fingerprints are all over the scene....” He considered Michael’s record for a moment, before asking, “but why plead guilty, why not tell your story in court?”
Michael grimaced, “while waiting for my trial, I got a letter from him. He used the crude code he shared while serving, so while it looked nice and supportive, he was actually threatening my wife, mother and baby daughter if I fought this....” He stopped and looked down, “they’re shamed enough, I couldn’t put them at any more risk, and he knows where they live....”
The room fell silent, before Simon looked at his friend. “That’s the whole story...?”
Michael nodded slowly, the guilt for his ignorance these past years written on his face. “That’s the entire tale, dirty secrets, everything.... I couldn’t prove any of this until you were with me Simon, I had no other means of support before you were given a chance to see me this night....”
Simon nodded and smiled, “I won’t leave you now, not until it’s done....”
John smiled, “very well, you can stay and observe, I won’t protest.”
Michael finished his brandy and noted, “I have one last request of you Simon.”
“What’s that?”
“I know you, your connections. Take Barnes down and clear my name, but please, protect my family while you do it.”
Simon chuckled and grinned at him, “it will be tough, but a lot of my fellows have remained in the service of God, and they owe me one more favour. I’ll get them out of London to safety within a week, I have contacts in Edinburgh and we have shared funds to get them further afield, to America, or Australia perhaps. We can cover it as an act of mercy, to give them a fresh start.... I promise Raymond Barnes will not find them, but I will find him, and ensure he is brought to justice!”
Michael happily offered his hand for Simon to shake, sealing the agreement and promise between them, the weight of his issues visibly lifted from his tired features. “Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to write the final entries in my diary. In private please....”
“Of course,” John insisted. “We can wait outside, then Simon can return when you are ready, there’s still plenty of the night to prepare.”
Michael nodded, “my diary is my confession to my part in this sorry tale Simon. When the last passage is added I will seal it in the envelope, and it will be addressed to you.... Everything is there, including the letter Barnes used to threaten me, it is kept in the pouch in the front cover, you’ll see the same message I did.” He finally looked up at Simon with a new determination, “when you bring Barnes down make sure you use it to convict him, show him that myself and my family are beyond his threats and danger, that he can never hurt anyone ever again. Then please, pass it to my family, let them keep it.”
“You have my word,” Simon promised. “It is too late to save you now but I assure you, you will face judgement with your heart and conscious clear, then maybe one day, you will receive the pardon you clearly deserve, your name will no longer be sullied with the crime it bears in this realm.”
Michael nodded, “maybe my wife and daughter will get to know the truth, the knife hovering at their neck no longer there. Barnes hanging from his own noose at last...”
John offered his own hand for Michael to shake, “he will leave this place carrying the envelope with him. Whatever extra resources he needs, service records, documentation. I assure you I’ll use whatever powers I can to clear your name.”
Michael chuckled, “it’s not supposed to be the role of a Prison Governor to prove the innocence of one of his inmates!”
“Maybe not,” John smiled back, “but it is my role to ensure the guilty serve their time in prison. I’m just sorry it’s too late for you Michael, there’s been a terrible miscarriage of justice....”
“There has,” Simon agreed. “Now we must ensure this wrong is corrected in the future.”
Michael tipped his head forward, “I was hiding my fear before, scared I wouldn’t have my moment of confession. Now my heart and mind are clear, I’m ready for the dawn....”
“Then we’ll let you finish your diary,” John told him as he began to lead Simon out for a moment. Michael noted he had left the hip flask on the table and was about to offer it back to his Governor. “Keep it, just leave us a few nips, so we can pay our respects after the dawn.”
Michael nodded, “thank you John,” then he allowed them to leave, before turning to his diary for the final time, knowing now these writings had all been worthwhile. His family would learn the truth in time, Simon would make sure of that....
.... He didn’t feel nervous or scared any longer, the dawn was just the beginning of the fightback against his former friend....