When I was in Walton prison I was briefly located on the landing above ‘Basic’ regime. In a nutshell, if a prisoner misbehaves by committing a serious offence (failed drug test, phone, fight) or a string of lesser offences (fail to go to work, follow a lawful order) they are placed on Basic regime for 28 days. This involves a loss of personal clothing, loss of gym, loss of canteen / earnings and a loss of in cell TV. Basic involves a lot of boring bang-up with incremental easing of sanctions dependant on improved behaviour.
There were times when I (and others) would turn off our TV’s and just listen to the conversations that the lads on Basic had through their windows – often they were more entertaining. A particularly riveting exchange occurred shortly after one of the Basics returned from a domestic visit by a friend or family member, it went like this.
Peter “How did you get on lad? Did you get sorted?”
Paul “Yes lad. I’ve got it here. Just give us a few minutes to cut it up.”
Peter “Yes lad, I’ll get a line ready.”
There were a few exchanges and muttered expletives as the lads did their best to attach a length of torn blanket between their windows by swinging it like a pendulum. Finally they made contact.
Paul “Lad, have you any Olive?”
Peter “What”
Paul “Have you any OLIVE lad, OLIVE OIL – Foil?”
Peter “What? Oh yeah lad, got some here, I’ll send it over.”
More mutterings as the line is passed one way with the tin foil attached, then the other way as heroin is exchanged.
Peter “That’s a decent little bit lad. Looks proper. I’m on it!”
Paul “Yes lad. Me too!”
There followed a period of quiet, which I assumed was due to the lads smoking heroin off the tin foil that they had exchanged. About 15 minutes later the conversation picked up again – albeit with the speech at a more ‘chillaxed’ level.
Paul “Well lad. How’s that for you?”
Peter “Sound lad. I’m mashed. Well chilled.”
Paul “Well you’ll be happy now cos I’ve got enough for the same tomorrow and the next day”
Peter “Is right lad, we’ll ride this basic like a piece of piss!”
Paul “Is right lad. Speak to you tomorrow.”
And that was it for the night. The pair turned in and I went back to my evening. But the following morning I woke to a kerfuffle. It didn’t take long to realise that the lads below were being spun by the security team. When we were unlocked the worst had already taken place, I saw one of the kangas with an evidence bag contained blackened tin foil. The pair were frog marched off to be drugs tested and no doubt brought for an adjudication that would extend their stay on Basic.
That evening I overheard the pair talking again.
Peter “How did they get on us so quickly lad?”
Paul “They must have been tipped off lad.”
Peter “Who do you think did it?”
Paul “It’s them upstairs lad, they’re all snitches.”
I don’t doubt for a second that the security team were tipped off. I am certain that the tip came from somebody who had overheard their conversation. The geography of the wing really should have been a clue.
Peter was located in cell 2. Paul was located in cell 1. A mere two feet away from their cells was another window – the window to an office that is occupied by prison staff, specifically the night watch kanga that fills in observation reports on the hour every hour. Peter and Paul are typical of the criminal masterminds that I have met throughout my sentence – the lads who will tip you off to a fool-proof scams and ways to beat security systems or surveillance, while they are in prison.
