The Big Breach - Index of

The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.complead guilty because they know that any jury of right-thinkingEnglishmen would be sympathetic to you and acquit you,' added Davies.I had plenty of time to reflect on my choice that afternoon. There wereno A-cat prison vans available, meaning a five-hour wait in the spartancourt cell, with only a wooden bench to sit on and nothing to read. Thethought of spending a year in Belmarsh awaiting my day of glory at ajury trial was not pleasant, as the week I had already done had seemedmore like a month. On the other hand, if I were to plead guilty, thejudge would automatically cut a third off my sentence, so the most Icould spend in jail would be eight months - probably as a lowercategoryprisoner in an easier jail than Belmarsh. The thought ofcapitulating to MI6's game was galling, but it would be more pragmatic.Reluctantly, as I returned to now familiar surroundings at Belmarshwith its crew of crooks and lunatics, I concluded that pleading guiltywas the most sensible option.One of the consequences of Mrs Thatcher's decision in the late 1980s todismantle Britain's mental hospital system was that the country's jailsfilled up rapidly with former mental patients. Booted out of theirlong-term health-care centres, many could not cope and turned to crimeto survive. In prison there were no mental health-care facilities, sotheir health worsened. Because other jails used Belmarsh as a dumpingground for troublesome prisoners, we had more than our share of`fraggles'. Most were harmless and amusing, such as Eric Mockalenny, achunky young Nigerian whose story was typical. He had been convicted ofassaulting a police officer while being arrested for exposing himselfoutside Buckingham Palace. In prison, his mental health degenerated.After lunch one day he came into my cell to introduce himself. `Goodmorning, Mr Tomlinson, I am Mr. Eric Mockalenny. Would you please giveme a stamp? I must write to Princess Anne,' he said, showing a row oflarge white teeth. His request was so polite that I felt obliged tohelp him out. Mockalenny thanked me graciously and scuttled out,beaming gratefully.Shortly afterwards, the young screw assigned to keep an eye on himcollared me. `Tomlinson, don't give Mockalenny any more stamps. He'sbeen writing three letters a day to Princess Anne, asking her to gointo a joint venture of prawn-farming in Nigeria and sending her visitapplication forms.'Most of Mockalenny's antics were tolerated by the prisoners and screwsalike, but some of the other `fraggles' were more trying. Stonley hadspent nine years in a psychiatric hospital before being released on tothe streets in the `care in community' initiative. He had no home andended up in Belmarsh for a series of minor burglaries. He spoke tonobody, never washed or shaved, and never changed his clothes. He spentassociations pacing furiously in a small circle on the landing,clutching his beard and muttering to himself. Because he stank sovilely nobody approached him and he was immune from bullying orintimidation.As for many of the other prisoners, visits to the prison gym were ahighlight. On days when there were enough screws to escort A-cats offthe spur, those of us who queued at Mr Richard's desk quickly enough atmorning unlock to get on the list could go to the gym instead of theyard. In the well-equipped sports hall we could weight-train, playpage- 178 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com