All in the name of research

Recently one of my contacts on the police force invited me to visit a Homicide and Serious Crime Command Unit. In the course of a fascinating day, I visited the police cells - taking great care not to touch the panic strip on the wall on the way! Apparently it’s not unheard of for new recruits to set off the alarm by mistake, but as a visitor I didn’t want to make a nuisance of myself – not on the way to the cells at any rate…
I’ve seen police cells on the television, of course, but it was a strangely eery and depressing experience to see what little space is allocated to those held in custody. The cells are clean and safe, but very grey. Needless to say, I was glad to leave the custody suite. There was no dramatic clanging of metal gates or jingling of massive bunches of keys. Compared to representations on the television, it was all very low key (Sorry! Bad pun. Very bad.) The ‘rights’ read to prisoners are also very long compared to those you ever hear read out on the small screen, and very dull.
I admit to having a lively imagination – I do write fiction after all. So after my visit to the custody suite, it was with some trepidation that I accepted an invitation to visit a closed prison to talk to prisoners about writing crime fiction. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me, and I couldn’t help wondering how my talk would be received. The gates of the prison clanged shut…

I can’t speak for all establishments in HM Prison Service, but the prison I visited offers educational and cultural opportunities for the prisoners similar to those offered in many colleges. Whatever your views on the rights and wrongs of such provision in prisons, there is clearly an admirable agenda to rehabilitate offenders and facilitate their return into the community. Whether or not it is effective is a complex issue to unpick, with so many other factors involved.

What I can tell you is that my prison visit was fascinating. Although the prison officers and the prisoners were very friendly and welcoming, I was still glad to leave. The visit also helped in the writing of the fifth book in the Geraldine Steel series – but you’ll have to wait until the end of the year to find out what happens!

Goudhurst Prison Blues

by Matt Lynn

Goudhurst Prison Blues:

One of my favourite records of all time is the Johnny Cash ‘Live At San Quentin’ album: a set that captures the rugged, outlaw sound of the man to perfection. So I couldn’t help thinking about that as I did my first prison gig a couple of weeks ago.
I wasn’t actually in San Quentin. I was at Goudhurst Prison, which is my local jail down here in Kent. It’s actually set among idyllic English countryside, and is in a pleasant enough old building, but the fact it has barbed wire all around it, and you have to hand in your mobile and show your passport at the door to get in, reminds you that this is indeed a jail.
I resisted the temptation to bounce onto stage saying, “Hello, my name is Matt Lynn’ before kicking into the opening chords of ‘Wanted Man’.
Instead, I just gave a version of my standard library talk, where I chat for a while about where the ideas for the ‘Death Force’ series of books came about, how they get written, how publishing works, and all the usual things that people like authors to talk about.
It was a different audience, however. They were younger, and, of course, all men. Quite a few of them had read the books, and enjoyed them which was gratifying, and the library service had bought some books to give away as a competition prize, which made a nice end to the event. They were more interested in money and contracts than most audiences, and maybe that says something about the kind of people they are.
I was struck by how intelligent most of the men were, and how articulate. Obviously something had gone wrong with their lives to end up in prison, but they were men with a lot of potential.
I came away, as one does from these kind of experiences, thinking about how narrow the line is between the safe, comfortable, easy lives that most of us lead, and the far darker, more troubled routes that some people take.