The Stretch (Stephen Leather Thrillers) by Stephen Leather

and shrugged. ‘Drugs are a big problem inside the prison system. Well, of course, you’d know that, being married to a drugs baron.’
    ‘You have got to be joking.’
    The smile vanished from Riggs’ face. ‘It’s up to you, Mrs Greene. No search, no amended list, no visit.’
    Sam swallowed. She wanted to scream at the man, to slap his self-satisfied face, but she knew that there was no way of fighting the system and winning. She forced herself to smile. ‘Sure, why not,’ she said.
    Riggs took her over to the examination room door and the woman prison officer took her inside. There was an examination table covered with a sheet of white paper, a small sink with a wastepaper bin underneath it and a medicine cabinet. On the back of the door was a poster warning of the dangers of Aids.
    The woman prison officer used a wooden spatula to check the inside of Sam’s mouth. ‘Stick out your tongue, please.’ Sam did as she was asked. The woman checked around Sam’s tongue and then nodded. ‘Okay, now take off your clothes.’
    ‘I suppose you get some kick out of this,’ said Sam as she took off her jacket.
    The woman prison officer snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. ‘Oh yes, this is exactly what I told my careers officer I wanted to do with my life.’
    ‘Do I look like I’d been carrying drugs inside my . . . inside myself?’
    ‘You wouldn’t believe who brings what in here, love. Just take off your skirt and pants, lie back and think of England. I won’t be doing anything your gynaecologist hasn’t done a hundred times before.’
    Sam sensed that the woman wasn’t part of the plan to make her life difficult, she was just doing what Riggs had told her to do. She took off her skirt and pants and climbed up on to the table and spread her legs. The woman prison officer inserted a gloved finger between Sam’s legs and probed around.
    ‘If you’re looking for my g-spot, it’s about another inch in,’ said Sam.
    The woman police officer chuckled. ‘You’ve no idea how many times I’ve heard that one,’ she said. She withdrew her finger.
    ‘Are we done?’
    ‘Just one more check.’
    Sam tensed as she realised what the woman meant. ‘Oh no. Come on.’
    ‘I’m just following the rules, love. Believe me, I get no more pleasure out of this than you do. Close your eyes, it’ll be over before you know it.’
    Sam gritted her teeth and the woman inserted a finger inside her rectum, probed once, and then slid it out.
    ‘All done,’ she said. ‘There’s paper towels by the sink.’
    ‘Thanks,’ said Sam, fighting back tears of embarrassment and rage. ‘Thanks a million.’
    Terry was sitting at the same corner table he’d been at the last time she visited. He stood up as he saw her walking across the visiting room. ‘Hello, love,’ he said and tried to give her a kiss on the cheek.
    Sam pushed him away and sat down, crossing her legs away from him.
    ‘What’s wrong?’
    Sam glowered at him. ‘They fucking strip searched me, Terry.’
    ‘Oh God. I’m sorry.’
    ‘Pushed and probed me like I was a piece of meat. What’s going on?’
    Terry reached over and took her hand. ‘Are you okay?’
    Sam pulled her hand away. She didn’t want Terry touching her. She didn’t want anyone touching her, ever again. ‘No. I’m not okay. I’m so far from okay that you’d need a fucking map to find it from where I am.’
    To her left was an old couple, the man in his seventies in ill-fitting prison denims and a red vest that was several times too big for him. He had lined parchment skin and deep-set eyes that made his head look more like a gleaming skull. His wife was probably in her mid-sixties, about twice his size, plump and matronly, wearing a big woollen coat and a hat with a huge brown plastic handbag that she clutched in her lap with both hands. Sam could see that her fingernails were bitten to the quick. They sat in silence, occasionally looking at each other and smiling. Sam wondered if