cb.booksofblood-第19章
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〃He means policeman；〃 said one of the boys。 The noun was spoken with a mocking precision； as though he was addressing an imbecile。
〃I know what he means； lad；〃 said Redman； still determined to out…stare Lacey； 〃I know very well what he means。〃
〃Are you？〃
〃Be quiet； Lacey；〃 said Leverthal； 〃you're in enough trouble as it is。〃
〃Yes； son。 I'm the pig。〃 The war of looks went on； a private battle between boy and man。
〃You don't know nothing；〃 said Lacey。 It wasn't a snide remark； the boy was simply telling his version of the truth； his gaze didn't flicker。
〃All right； Lacey； that's enough。〃 The warder was trying to haul him away； his belly stuck out between pyjama top and bottom； a smooth dome of milk skin。
〃Let him speak；〃 said Redman。 〃What don't I know？〃
〃He can give his side of the story to the Governor；〃 said Leverthal before Lacey could reply。 〃It's not your concern。〃 But it was very much his concern。 The stare made it his concern； so cutting； so damned。 The stare demanded that it bee his concern。
〃Let him speak；〃 said Redman； the authority in his voice overriding Leverthal。 The warder loosened his hold just a little。
〃Why did you try and escape； Lacey？〃 〃Cause he came back。〃
〃Who came back？ A name； Lacey。 Who are you talking about？〃 For several seconds Redman sensed the boy fighting a pact with silence； then Lacey shook his head； breaking the electric exchange between them。 He seemed to lose his way somewhere； a kind of puzzlement gagged him。
〃No harm's going to e to you。〃 Lacey stared at his feet； frowning。 〃I want to go back to bed now；〃 he said。 A virgin's request。
〃No harm； Lacey。 I promise。〃 The promise seemed to have precious little effect； Lacey was struck dumb。 But it was a promise nevertheless； and he hoped Lacey realised that。 The kid looked exhausted by the effort of his failed escape； of the pursuit； of staring。 His face was ashen。 He let the warder turn him and take him back。 Before he rounded the corner again； he seemed to change his mind； he struggled to loose himself； failed； but managed to twist himself round to face his interrogator。
〃Henessey；〃 he said； meeting Redman's eyes once more。 That was all。 He was shunted out of sight before he could say anything more。
〃Henessey？〃 said Redman； feeling like a stranger suddenly。
〃Who's Henessey？〃 Leverthal was lighting a cigarette。 Her hands were shaking ever so slightly as she did it。 He hadn't noticed that yesterday； but he wasn't surprised。 He'd yet to meet a head shrinker who didn't have problems of their own。
〃The boy's lying；〃 she said； 〃Henessey's no longer with us。〃 A little pause。 Redman didn't prompt； it would only make her jumpy。
〃Lacey's clever；〃 she went on； putting the cigarette to her colourless lips。 〃He knows just the spot。〃
〃Eh？〃
〃You're new here； and he wants to give you the impression that he's got a mystery all of his own。〃
〃It isn't a mystery then？〃
〃Henessey？〃 she snorted。 〃Good God no。 He escaped custody in early May。 He and Lacey 。 。 。〃 She hesitated； without wanting to。 〃He and Lacey had something between them。 Drugs perhaps； we never found out。 Glue…sniffing； mutual masturbation； God knows what。〃 She really did find the whole subject unpleasant。 Distaste was written over her face in a dozen tight places。
〃How did Henessey escape？〃
〃We still don't know；〃 she said。 〃He just didn't turn up for roll…call one morning。 The place was searched from top to bottom。 But he'd gone。〃
〃Is it possible he'd e back？〃 A genuine laugh。
〃Jesus no。 He hated the place。 Besides； how could he get in？〃
〃He got out。〃 Leverthal conceded the point with a murmur。 〃He wasn't especially bright； but he was cunning。 I wasn't altogether surprised when he went missing。 The few weeks before his escape he'd really sunk into himself。 I couldn't get anything out of him； and up until then he'd been quite talkative。〃
〃And Lacey？〃
〃Under his thumb。 It often happens。 Younger boy idolizes an older； more experienced individual。 Lacey had a very unsettled family background。〃 Neat； thought Redman。 So neat he didn't believe a word of it。 Minds weren't pictures at an exhibition； all numbered； and hung in order of influence； one marked 〃Cunning〃； the next； 〃Impressionable〃。 They were scrawls； they were sprawling splashes of graffiti； unpredictable； unconfinable。
And little boy Lacey？ He was written on water。
Classes began the next day； in a heat so oppressive it turned the workshop into an oven by eleven。 But the boys responded quickly to Redman's straight dealing。 They recognized in him a man they could respect without liking。 They expected no favours； and received none。 It was a stable arrangement。
Redman found the staff on the whole less municative than the boys。 An odd…ball bunch； all in all。 Not a strong heart amongst them he decided。 The routine of Tetherdowne； its rituals of classification； of humiliation； seemed to grind them into a mon gravel。 Increasingly he found himself avoiding conversation with his peers。 The workshop became a sanctuary； a home from home； smelling of newly cut wood and bodies。
It was not until the following Monday that one of the boys mentioned the farm。
Nobody had told him there was a farm in the grounds of the Centre； and the idea struck Redman as absurd。
〃Nobody much goes down there；〃 said Creeley； one of the worst woodworkers on God's earth。 〃It stinks。〃 General laughter。
〃All right； lads； settle down。〃 The laughter subsided； laced with a few whispered jibes。
〃Where is this farm； Creeley？〃
〃It's not even a farm really； sir；〃 said Creeley； chewing his tongue （an incessant routine）。 〃It's just a few huts。 Stink； they do sir。 Especially now。〃 He pointed out of the window to the wilderness beyond the playing field。 Since he'd last looked out at the sight； that first day with Leverthal； the wasteland had ripened in the sweaty heat； ranker with weeds than ever。 Creeley pointed out a distant brick wall； all but hidden behind a shield of shrubs。
〃See it； sir？〃
〃Yes； I see it。〃
〃That's the sty； sir。〃 Another round of sniggers。
〃What's so funny？〃 he wheeled on the class。 A dozen heads snapped down to their work。
〃I wouldn't go down there sir。 It's high as a fucking kite。〃
Creeley wasn't exaggerating。 Even in the relative cool of the late afternoon the smell wafting off the farm was stomach turning。 Redman just followed his nose across the field and past the out…houses。 The buildings he glimpsed from the workshop window were ing out of hiding。 A few ramshackle huts thrown up out of corrugated iron and rotting wood； a chicken run； and the brick…built sty were all the farm could offer。 As Creeley had said； it wasn't really a farm at all。 It was a tiny domesticated Dachau； filthy and forlorn。 Somebody obviously fed the few prisoners： the hens； the half dozen geese； the pigs； but nobody seemed bothered to clean them out。 Hence that rotten smell。 The pigs particularly were living in a bed of their own ordure； islands of dung cooked to perfection in the sun； peopled with thousands of flies。
The sty itself was divided into two separate partments； divided by a high brick wall。 In the forecourt of one a small； mottled pig lay on its side in the filth； its flank alive with ticks and bugs。 Another； smaller； pig could be glimpsed in the gloom of the interior； lying on shit…thick straw。 Neither showed any interest in Redman。
The other partment seemed empty。
There was no excrement in the forecourt； and far fewer flies amongst the straw。 The accumulated smell of old faecal matter was no less acute； however； and Redman was about to turn away when there was a noise from inside； and a great bulk righted itself。 He leaned over the padlocked wooden gate； blotting out the stench by an act of will； and peered through the doorway of the sty。
The pig came out to look at him。 It was three times the size of its panions； a vast sow that might well have mothered the pigs in the adjacent pen。 But where her farrows were filthy…flanked； the sow was pristine； her blushing pink frame radiant with good health。 Her sheer size impressed Redman。 She must hav
