24
John Lucas stretched and arched his back as he adjusted to the light streaming into his cell. He’d had a better night’s sleep than he had any right to, sleeping on a tough plastic mattress in a cold prison cell. Then again, he’d got used to waking up to whitewashed brick walls and the clanging of metal doors down a corridor. He hadn’t expected to ever have to hear it again, though.
The hatch in the door slid open as a police officer unlocked it and looked in on him.
‘Not dead,’ Lucas called out, raising his hand.
‘Always a bonus,’ said the officer. ‘Saves me a ton of paperwork. You want breakfast?’
‘I’ll pass if that’s alright. I’m still recovering from dinner. Wouldn’t mind a cup of tea, though.’
‘Right you are. They’ll probably call down for you just before nine, to get you in f
