The Coroner (16 page)

    'Tell
me, PC Campbell, did you find anything at the scene to suggest that this was a
place where people commonly injected drugs or entertained prostitutes - any
needles or condoms on the ground?'

    'Only
the one syringe next to Katy.'

    'Is
this a place known to the police as somewhere these activities commonly occur?'

    'Not
particularly.'

    'Would
it be fair to say that it's a remote place, only really accessible by car?'

    'Yes.'

    'And
Katy was wearing high heels?'

    'She
was.'

    'It
seems unlikely she got there by herself, doesn't it?'

    'It
does, really.'

    'Which
leaves us with two possibilities: either she went to this place with another
person while she was alive, or her body was placed there after she was dead.'

    'All
I did was write a report, ma'am. I'm not an investigator.'

    'No.'
Jenny glanced at the jury, registering their suspicion. 'Wait there, PC
Campbell.'

    Hartley
rose to his feet with a saccharine smile, a gold tooth glinting in the upper corner
of his mouth. 'Just a couple of questions, Officer. I presume you were first on
the scene because you were the closest officer at the time the alarm was
raised.'

    'That's
correct.'

    'And
being first to arrive you were obliged to write a report of what you had
found.'

    'Yes,
sir.'

    'And
you have no idea how Katy Taylor came to be in that place, do you?'

    PC
Campbell stalled for a second, before conceding, 'No, sir.'

    Hartley
shot the jury another smile and sat down again, pleased with himself.

    Right
on cue, Peterson arrived, together with a uniformed police officer who, from
the row of pips on his shoulder, Jenny took to be Detective Superintendent
Swainton. Both men looked indignant at being hauled away from their busy lives
to an obscure corner of the Gloucestershire countryside. Jenny felt a small
swell of satisfaction at being able to wield such power over them.

    She
called Detective Superintendent Swainton forward first. A tall,
broad-shouldered man of around fifty, still sporting a full head of dark brown
hair, he was an imposing physical presence and gave the impression of being
impatient to get back to far more important matters. His manner was abrupt and
confident, unintimidated by Jenny or her court. Immediately she found his
confidence unnerving. Bennett and Campbell had been soft witnesses; here was a
man determined to match her.

    'Officer,
you were in overall charge of the investigation into Katy Taylor's death?'

    'I
was.'

    'When
did you arrive at the scene?'

    'Approximately
an hour after Constable Campbell. My team and I had been up all night dealing
with an armed incident over near Stroud.'

    'Did
you regard the death as suspicious?'

    'Initially.
But when the post-mortem report came it was clear she had died of a heroin
overdose.'

    'But
that finding couldn't tell you whether she had administered the fatal dose
herself or if someone else had assisted, or even forced it on her.'

    'There
was no evidence from the pathologist of any physical force having been used
against her.' He turned to address the jury directly, determined to deliver the
last word on the matter. 'Of course we couldn't rule out the possibility of
manslaughter, or indeed murder, but there was no physical evidence on which to
base such an assumption. In that situation we hand the case over to the coroner
but continue to keep the file open in case any further evidence comes to light.
That is what we have done, and no evidence of third-party involvement has yet
arisen.'

    'So
you do accept the possibility that she was killed either accidentally or on
purpose by another person?'

    'Of
course, but we can only do what we can with the resources available to us. We
probably have a dozen or more accidental overdose cases like this every year.
If we treated every one as a potential murder we'd need twice the number of
detectives we have.'

    'Katy
Taylor was a vulnerable fifteen-year-old girl with a history of drug taking and
prostitution. Surely if anyone was going to be taken advantage of by a
predatory man, it was her.'

    'I
would agree with you.'

    'So
why didn't you investigate the circumstances more fully? Why not concentrate
resources on trying to pinpoint her last known movements, who she was with?'

    'Believe
me, we tried, but prostitutes are not people inclined to help the police. My
officers have appealed for information and will receive anything anyone has to
say in the strictest confidence, but the fact remains there is to date no
evidence of violence having been used against her.'

    'What
about the possibility that her body was positioned where it was after her
death?'

    'Firstly,
the body had been well soaked with rain over several days, preventing the
recovery of third-party DNA, and secondly, the pathologist confirmed that the
pattern of rigor mortis and the pooling of blood in the parts of her closest to
the ground were consistent with her having been in that position since she
died.'

    'How
did he inform you of that? It's not in his report.'

    Swainton
glanced at Dr Peterson, sitting in the front row of the gallery. The question
had broken his stride and the jury sensed it. The Detective Superintendent
cleared his throat and said, 'I had a detailed telephone conversation with him
on the afternoon of i May, after he had conducted his examination. It was as a
result of this that I decided to hand the file over to the coroner's office.'

    'Only
twenty-four hours after the body was found.'

    'As
I've explained, it didn't mean we were closing our file, only that there were
no obvious grounds to suspect foul play.'

    'You
didn't consider her death worthy of even a few days of concentrated
investigation?'

    'At
the time we were dealing with several brutal homicides and serious sexual
assaults.'

    'In
other words, it wasn't a priority.'

    'Compared
with others, no, it wasn't. It felt like a case more appropriately handled by
the coroner's office.'

    Jenny
sat back in her chair and considered the implications of Swainton's evidence.
If he was to be believed, the police were simply too undermanned to give every
death the attention the public would expect. Obvious and brutal homicides took
precedence; those that were problematic or obscure went to the bottom of the
heap. And to counter allegations of neglect, they claimed cases remained active
when the truth was they were buried as deep as the victim. It was a good time
for killers who had the wit to cover their tracks.

    Jenny
said, 'What kind of investigation did you expect the coroner to carry out?'

    Detective
Superintendent Swainton nodded, as if he had been waiting for this question. 'I
must confess I was surprised that a death certificate was issued without an
inquest being held, especially given Katy's troubled history. She was meant to
be under close supervision by the Youth Offending Team.'

    His
attempt to pass the buck was delivered with admirable understated sincerity.
Jenny imagined he had been planning his move ever since the summons landed on
his desk yesterday afternoon.

    'Did
you query this with the coroner, Mr Marshall?'

    'No,
ma'am. I wouldn't consider it my place to do so, and by the time I found out,
unfortunately, he had died. But I have to say, I am very grateful that you are
now giving Katy's death the attention it deserves.'

    Charm
itself. Swainton had skilfully avoided all responsibility and somehow handed it
back to her. She felt a sudden, childish urge to retaliate. Alison had read the
signals and was giving her a warning look. Jenny ignored her. 'The question
remains, Officer, why you and your force spent barely more than a few hours
investigating the death of a fifteen-year-old girl. It seems so extraordinary
that one has to wonder if there wasn't a sinister reason for it.'

    Hartley
leapt to his feet. 'Ma'am, I really must object. Detective Superintendent
Swainton has given a perfectly rational account of his decision.'

    'It
may appear rational to you, Mr Hartley, but I have to say I am far from
satisfied.'

    She
had the bit well and truly between her teeth. Alison stared hard at the ground,
while Hartley dropped back into his seat with an expression of barely
suppressed fury.

    'I'll
be more precise, Officer. Did you come under any pressure to back off from this
investigation?'

    'No,
ma'am, I did not.'

    The
several reporters in the gallery were scribbling in unison, hanging on every
word.

    'Was
there ever any hint or suspicion that Katy had been consorting with someone
your force may have had reason to protect, an informer, for example, or someone
prominent?'

    Swainton
fixed her with a cold, level look. 'Absolutely none whatsoever. And with the
greatest of respect, ma'am, I deeply resent that suggestion.'

    Feeling
herself diminish under his gaze, Jenny thanked him for his time and tried to
regain her composure while Hartley asked some easy questions designed to repair
the damage. She could have kicked herself. Not only had she sounded impetuous,
she had shown her hand too soon. If Swainton did have anything to hide, he
would now move heaven and earth to keep her from finding it out. She felt the
familiar knot forming beneath her diaphragm, a pressure either side of her
forehead: the drugs were wearing off. She waited impatiently for Hartley to
finish his final question and called a brief adjournment.

    Jenny
bought herself a few minutes alone, telling Alison she had to make some calls.
She brought out her bottle of temazepam and a metal nail file she carried in
her handbag and cut three tablets in half. It was a procedure she hadn't
carried out since the dark post-episode months when each day in court was a
desperate struggle. She wasn't anywhere near as anxious as she had been then,
but she had no fall-back position; there was nowhere to run and hide if she
could no longer cope. During those desperate times she had learned that each
half-dose would keep her steady for an hour. Now the clever part: a tube of
Polo mints, the only edible item considered acceptable in a British courtroom.
She carefully unwound the foil package, extracted six, jammed half a pill in
the centre of each and rewrapped them.

    No
one would ever know.

    Detective
Superintendent Swainton had left the building, leaving Peterson to face the
music alone. Grantham, too, had disappeared, adding to Jenny's suspicion that
the two of them were in cahoots. Peterson sat in the witness chair with the air
of a man resigned to having his day ruined. The flirtatious smile was gone. He
looked tired and seemed to carry the weight of the corpses backing up along his
mortuary corridor on his narrow frame.

    'You
conducted a post-mortem on the body of Katy Taylor on the morning of 1 May,
approximately twenty-four hours after it was discovered. Is that correct?'

    'Yes.
That's right.'

    'What
did you know about the circumstances of her death?'

    'Only
what PC Campbell had told me, that she was found in a seated position with a
syringe next to her.'

    'What
did your post-mortem reveal?'

    'The
first issue was time of death. The condition of the tissue told me she had been
dead for somewhere between five and seven days, but beyond that it was
impossible to say with any accuracy. The body arrived in an almost foetal position,
but once clothing had been removed it was clear to see that blood had pooled in
the buttocks and lower abdomen and feet and ankles - the areas closest to the
ground - indicating that she had been in a seated posture before death.
Examination of the internal organs showed she'd suffered a cardiac arrest
consistent with a drug overdose. I ordered an expedited haematology report and
it confirmed the presence of a hefty dose of undigested diamorphine - heroin.
It was impossible to say how much she had injected, but I've had several
similar cases over the last six months, which suggests there's some
particularly pure heroin doing the rounds. I hear it's got very cheap lately.'