Alexandra nods, a small, decisive movement. ‘Yes. I would.’
The professor nods too. ‘Of course you would. Anyone would.’ A pause, then. ‘Right, what if youdidn’tcatch them red-handed? What if someone told you thatthatman was the culprit, pointed him out in the street? Would you still want to twist the knife?’
Alexandra opens her mouth, closes it again.
Ben raises his hand. ‘I suppose it would depend on how close to my mum’s death it was. If it were immediately afterwards, I think I’d still be so fraught, I’d go for him. But a bit later on . . .’
The professor smiles. ‘Right. And this is why we have a criminal justice system. Mob justice might be one way of getting criminals off the street, a way of enacting revenge, but it’s not real justice. The danger of getting it wrong is too great.’
He looks round the room, catches Lucy’s eye again. She feels his gaze as strongly as if he’s laid his hand on her.
‘Let’s take it beyond street justice. Let’s say your mum’s killer has been arrested, tried, convicted. They’re about to be sentenced. What kind of sentence do you want them to receive?’
Jessica, a mature student sitting at the bottom of the table, raises her hand. ‘I’d want to lock them up and throw away the key.’
‘Whole term imprisonment? That’s an entirely human response,’ he says. ‘Prison works. None of you were alive at the time the Conservative politician unleashed his famous mantra. “Prison works.” Do you agree with him?’
Jessica thinks for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I think I do.’
The professor gets to his feet, strides over to the window. He’s animated, as impassioned as Lucy has ever seen him, even in his most emotional speeches online. Her heart is pounding.
‘Then I’m not sure you have any place in this class.’
Jessica recoils as if he’s slapped her. ‘I didn’t – I mean . . .’
The professor’s eyebrows are raised to his hairline, his expression frozen. Jessica shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Lucy’s holding her breath, the tension thick as smog. She could punch a hole in it.
His eyebrows fall, his face returning to a more relaxed position. He returns to his seat. ‘Whatever you think you know about prison, you’re wrong. It’s worse than you can imagine, and stupider than you’ll ever believe. The purpose of it might be to punish, to rehabilitate, to keep dangerous people locked up and to deter others. Well, guess what? There’s precious little rehabilitation going on, and judging by the way the numbers are rising, it’s not serving as a deterrent, either.’
Jessica raises her hand. She’s got her fight back. ‘Some crimes deserve punishment. Why should someone who murders someone else get to live in comfort, given what they’ve done?’
A flicker of something passes across the professor’s face and he pauses before he speaks. ‘An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth? Blood for blood – is that your philosophy?’
She reddens but holds her ground. ‘I’m not arguing for capital punishment,’ she says, ‘I just feel that some crimes deserve more punishment than others, that’s all.’
‘Perhaps,’ he says. ‘Or else we could think of it in the way Sonia responds to Raskolnikov when he confesses to murder: “What have you done – what have you done to yourself?” Don’t you think we have a duty to find outhowthis has happened, to discover what breakdown in the social contract has led to the destruction of not just the victim’s life, but the murderer’s, too? The reverberations of murder are loud and ring through the years – do we hear better by stopping our ear against the murderer’s cries?’
Lucy is breathing hard, swept up in his words, even though she couldn’t paraphrase them if she tried. She knew this about him. He’s always been passionate about rehabilitation, believing that prison as an entity should be abolished as not fit for purpose. She’s listened to his podcasts, read every one of his articles. This is why she’s here.
‘Sorry sir, but who’s Ralsonikon?’ It’s a boy, sitting next the hang ’em, flog ’em Jessica He’s got his laptop out, ready to tap it all down.
‘Raskolnikov. The protagonist of one of the greatest novels ever written –Crime and Punishmentby Dostoevsky. I suggest you run away and read it before next week, all of you.’
Alexandra thrusts her hand into the air, barely waiting to be invited to speak before the words burst out of her. ‘Dostoevsky is crucial to any study of prisons and prison reform. He was the one who said, “The degree of civilisation in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.”’
Lucy looks over at her. Alexandra’s arms are crossed, her cheeks flushed. Maybe Lucy’s been unfair on her – maybe she also has strong feelings about prison reform.
But Alexandra keeps talking. ‘I can’t believe anyone here hasn’t heard of Raskolnikov,’ she says, glaring at the poor boy sitting next to her. The tips of his ears have gone bright pink.
‘Dostoevsky didn’t actually say that,’ Lucy interjects.
‘Didn’t say what?’
‘That the degree of civilisation in a society can be judged by entering its prisons.’
‘Yes he did,’ Alex says. ‘It’s fromThe House of the Dead.’
‘Have you readThe House of the Dead?’ Edgar asks, interrupting the argument. He’s asking the question of Alexandra, but looking closely at Lucy.
