The Coroner (24 page)

    He
stretched back on the ground, squinting at the sky. 'Someone has to be.'

    'Can
you really be happy not having any money?'

    'Yes
and no.'

    'Why
don't you go back and qualify, do some ethical work? Everyone wants green
buildings these days. You'd be rich.'

    'I'm thinking
about it.' He rolled over and leaned up on one elbow, looking at her. 'Or
should I say, you've made me think about it.'

    Jenny,
feeling a flutter of shyness, said, 'What have I done?'

    'Nothing
in particular . . . You just reminded me that there's a world out there.'

    She
pulled at the grass with her fingers, nervous with him looking at her. Any
moment she was expecting him to reach out and touch her and she hadn't a clue
what she'd do if he did.

    He
sat up, legs in front of him, leaning back on his hands. 'You find it hard to
relax, don't you? Can't you just enjoy the view?'

    'I've
got a lot on my mind.'

    With
a hint of a smile he cupped a hand to shade his eyes and looked out over the
valley. 'I'll give you one less thing to worry about - I'm not trying to have
sex with you. I'll be honest, I wouldn't say no, but I think we could get along
fine without.'

    Jenny,
flustered, said, 'That's admirably direct.' God, she sounded uptight.

    'I
thought you'd appreciate it.' He smiled, got back to his feet and brushed
himself down. 'Guess you'll be wanting to head back.'

    He
held out his hand. She hesitated a moment, then reached up and took it, letting
him pull her up.

    She
sat in front of her laptop late on Saturday night. The website she chose was
based in Ireland. She paid extra to have the pills couriered over the weekend.
She arranged to pick up the package from the company's depot in Avonmouth at
eight a.m. on Monday so she wouldn't have to give her home address or risk
being without pills until Tuesday. She'd sign the docket with an unintelligible
scrawl. The only thing that would link her to the technically illegal purchase
was her credit card records, but the website promised the entry on her
statement would read
Gifts by Mail.
She had ordered ten bottles of 3omg
tablets, telling herself that was all she was ever going to need.

    The
atmosphere in the hall was edgy, bordering on hostile - a two-temazepam
occasion. The ranks of journalists had swollen to fill up two of the four rows of
seats and a news van sprouting satellite dishes had arrived outside. Andy and a
deathly pale Claire Taylor had been joined by several grim- faced friends and
relatives. Hartley and Mallinson had laden their table with an impressive array
of files and law reports. Grantham was nowhere to be seen, but Dr Peterson had
responded to his second summons and was seated next to an earnest young woman
with a blue legal pad on her knee whom Jenny took to be a solicitor. Alison had
informed Detective Superintendent Swainton that today's proceedings might be of
interest to him but she had met with a curt response: he was too busy to attend
and so were his officers.

    Professor
Lloyd strutted to the witness chair in a three-piece suit and badly knotted bow
tie, relishing his moment in the spotlight. He placed his reading glasses
carefully on his nose to read the oath card and recited the words with
excessive precision.

    Early
on Sunday morning Jenny had received by email his careful and thorough report.
Only she and Alison had seen it. She had decided not to circulate copies until
after he presented his findings in open court, wanting to see Peterson's
reaction and catch Hartley, as far as possible, unawares. Her plan was to spend
the morning hearing the forensic evidence and any explanation Peterson could
offer for his failure to spot what Professor Lloyd had found so easily. The
next stage was to look for possible perpetrators. A further summons was on its
way to Justin Bennett and to the senior care officer in charge of female
trainees at Portshead Farm. Jenny wanted to know how Katy Taylor had managed to
keep up her intake of marijuana and cocaine during her time in her care.

    Before
beginning her examination of the witness, Jenny turned to the jury and explained
that, as they might have gathered from the local press, the reason she had
adjourned proceedings on Thursday was so that Katy Taylor's body could be
exhumed and re-examined by a Home Office pathologist. This was a senior
pathologist with special expertise in detecting evidence of crime who was
frequently called on to conduct post-mortems on behalf of the police or the
coroner. The jurors listened with earnest expressions. The novelty of their
strange public duty in a remote village hall had faded. Their frowns and nods
told her that these eight citizens were now feeling the full weight of their
responsibility.

    She
addressed Professor Lloyd. 'Professor, you are the Home Office pathologist for
the city of Newport in the county of Gwent?'

    'I
am.'

    'Did
you, on Saturday 23 June, carry out a post-mortem examination on the body of
Katy Taylor?' 'I did.'

    'And
did you write a report dated 23 June, detailing your findings?' 'I did.'

    She
glanced at Peterson. He was sitting very still, but his eyes were wide and
apprehensive, a man who knew his reputation was on the line.

    'Before
we go into the detail, Professor, would you please read the jury your summary.'

    'Certainly.'
Alison stepped forward and handed him a clean copy. He cleared his throat,
paused, then read aloud: 'While I agree with the findings of my colleague, Dr
Peterson of the Severn Vale District Hospital, that the immediate cause of
death was a massive overdose of diamorphine (heroin), in the course of my
examination I have found substantial and compelling evidence of serious and
violent physical assault. . .'

    There
was a sound in the public gallery, somewhere between a faint gasp and a dull
moan. Jenny looked up to see Andy Taylor clasping Claire's hand between both of
his. Dr Peterson tugged nervously at his cuff. His solicitor was urgently
noting every word.

    'This
evidence is in three parts. Firstly, the glenohumeral ligaments of the right
shoulder had been wrenched from the bone, indicating that the right arm had
been pushed with some force up the deceased's back. This would have been
extremely painful and it is hard to conceive of an innocent explanation.
Secondly, a clump of hair, approximately one inch in diameter, had been
traumatically wrenched from the rear left occipital area of the scalp - ' he
pointed to an area between the top of his neck and the back of his left ear -
'leading to the reasonable conclusion that it was pulled out during a physical
altercation. It is notable that the missing hair was not discovered with the
body.'

    Jenny
saw the look of suppressed desperation cross Peterson's face. She longed to
know what was in his mind, whether he had simply missed or deliberately
overlooked the evidence of violent death.

    'Thirdly,
there was a small chip out of the left of the two front teeth. The edges were
jagged, suggesting a recent trauma. I recovered the chip itself from between
the deceased's cheek and gum. In my opinion she received a powerful blow to the
front of the face. The fact she had not swallowed or spat out the chip
indicates that she was unconscious or insensible either before or as a result
of the blow.'

    Claire
Taylor sobbed. A woman who looked like she might be her sister passed tissues
down the line. The faces of the friends and family were pictures of grief,
bewilderment and betrayal. Peterson stared, expressionless, at the floor in
front of his chair.

    The
hall listened in sombre silence - interrupted only by Claire Taylor's sniffles
- as Jenny led Professor Lloyd through the fine detail of his findings. He
described how the dose of heroin had been so massive that had Katy tried to
inject it herself, she would have been dead or unconscious before the syringe
was half empty. He was convinced that a third party had administered it, perhaps
even two people: one forcing her arm and grabbing hold of her hair while the
other stuck in the needle.

    Jenny
asked, 'What do you make of the photographs the police photographer took of her
body where it was found?'

    'She
must have been placed in that position. As I have said, it would have been
impossible for her to inject that much heroin, then set the syringe down by her
side. I would have expected to find the needle still in her arm, the syringe
half full.'

    'Is
there anything else about the photograph that strikes you?'

    'Her
clothing seems remarkably ordered given the level of violence to which she had
been subjected. I can assume the attack on her was very swift and vicious. And
well planned.'

    'You
think this was premeditated?'

    'Acquiring
and preparing that amount of heroin takes some doing. I think it fair to say
that anyone with that degree of know-how would have been well aware that such a
large dose would kill her.'

    She
then took him through the results of the hair analysis test. It confirmed
beyond doubt that this was the only dose of heroin Katy had received, at least
in the ninety days before her death. He agreed with Dr Peterson's finding that
she had probably been dead for five to seven days or thereabouts when she was
found and that, because of the onset of rigor mortis, it was more than likely
that she was placed under the bush in a seated position very soon after she
died.

    Jenny
noted that this meant Katy had probably died on Tuesday 24 April, two days
after going missing from home. She needed to know where Katy had been on the
night of Sunday 22 and Monday 23 April and who she had been with. The two days
she spent missing were critical.

    Jenny
finished her examination of Professor Lloyd by asking how it could be that he
and Dr Peterson had arrived at such different conclusions. He thought for a
moment, then, after a further studied pause, said, 'Initially I was inclined to
take a charitable view. The standard blood tests he ordered were less precise
than the analysis I have carried out, so he wouldn't have known with as much
accuracy how much heroin was in her system - that I can understand. He is a man
under great pressure of work who probably conducts half a dozen postmortems
each day, but in my opinion, in a case where a violent death was even a remote
possibility, a reasonably competent pathologist should have carried out a more
detailed examination than he did.'

    'You're
surprised that he didn't find the chipped tooth?'

    'Moderately.'

    'And the
missing hair?'

    'Perhaps
a more understandable oversight.'

    He
glanced across at Peterson without a hint of remorse or embarrassment. Jenny
knew what this meant: his words may have been calculated to sound reasonable,
but what he was really telling her was that his colleague had been careless at
best, negligent or even complicit in the deliberate concealing of evidence at
worst.

    'Thank
you, Professor. If you would be kind enough to wait there, Mr Hartley may wish
to ask you some questions.'

    Hartley,
who was still writing a longhand note of Professor Lloyd's closing remarks,
took his time to finish, glanced over the page as if reassuring himself of an
obvious conclusion, and rose, with no particular sense of urgency, to his feet.

    'Professor,'
Hartley began, 'is it correct that you carried a full forensic examination of
the body of Katy Taylor at the request of the coroner, Mrs Cooper?'

    'Yes.'

    'And
you were therefore mindful of the fact that you were looking for, and might
well find, evidence leading to the conclusion that Katy's death was
suspicious.'

    'I'll
agree only with the first part of your question.'

    Hartley
smiled. 'And if I understand you correctly, you have concluded that it is more
likely than not that her death was suspicious.'

    'I
have.'

    'Thank
you, Professor.' Hartley turned to Jenny. 'Ma'am, I'm sure I do not have to
remind you of rule
z6,
subsection (i) of the Coroner's Rules 1984.'

    Still
a little shaky on the fine detail of the Coroner's Rules, Jenny opened her copy
of Jervis with a sense of foreboding.