The Coroner (25 page)

    'It
states that if the chief officer of police requests the coroner to adjourn an
inquest on the ground that a person may be charged with murder or manslaughter
in relation to the death, the coroner must adjourn the inquest for a period of
twenty-eight days. As the chief constable's representative, I hereby request
such an adjournment with immediate effect.'

    Jenny
glanced at the rule, checking that it read as she thought it did. 'Mr Hartley,
this rule applies only where the chief officer of police envisages charging a
specific individual. It is designed to prevent two judicial processes occurring
at the same time. As there is no suspect, I presume, who is about to be charged
with Katy Taylor's murder or manslaughter, I am fully entitled to continue with
this inquest.'

    'I
have been instructed that in the light of this evidence, the CID wish to reopen
their investigation. It is customary in those circumstances for the coroner to
adjourn and await the outcome of criminal investigations and proceedings, if
there are any.'

    'Mr
Hartley—'

    'If
you'll allow me to finish, ma'am.'

    Jenny
conceded and let him continue.

    'The
function of the adjournment serves a dual purpose. Not only does it prevent the
police investigation suffering in any way from the publicity this inquest may
attract, it will also ensure that when this inquest resumes, both you and the
jury will have the benefit of any evidence obtained by the police. I have a
number of authorities here to support my argument if you wish to see them - '
he waved in the direction of a hefty pile of photocopied documents - 'but I
think you'll agree, this is primarily a matter of where the interests of
justice lie. Surely that
must
be with the resumption of the police
investigation.'

    'I'll
adjourn to consider your submission, Mr Hartley.'

    Jenny
rose and retreated, with her copy of Jervis, to her office. She turned up the
Coroner's Rules again with a sinking sensation. Hartley was correct. The police
had the right to request an adjournment where there was a chance that a person
- who need not be specified - might be charged with an offence relating to the
death. If she were to refuse the police could ask the Director of Public
Prosecutions to intervene and request one. Again, she didn't have to comply,
but she risked creating a major diplomatic incident.

    The
rules and procedure had a straightforward and simple purpose: to ensure that
the police investigated crimes and coroners investigated causes of death. Where
a coroner's investigation turned up evidence of a crime, the spirit of the
regulations, if not a strict interpretation of them, required her to stand
aside while the police took over. Her inquest would resume either when the
police decided that no crime had been committed or that no one was to be
charged, or if a suspect was charged, at the conclusion of the criminal trial.

    The
problem was, what happened when the coroner didn't trust the police? If, for
whatever reason, they failed to do their job properly, she was the only
backstop. No one else had the necessary capacity or resources to demand
answers.

    There
was a tap on the door and Alison entered. 'Are you all right? You looked like
you'd seen a ghost when he asked for the adjournment.'

    'I
knew he was planning something. He didn't lug that many books to court for
show.'

    'He's
right, though, isn't he? You can't carry on if CID have got an active inquiry.'

    'I
could, but it wouldn't make me very popular with the Ministry of Justice.' She
sighed. 'What do you think's going on?'

    'You've
shown them up, Mrs Cooper. Nobody likes that.'

    'What
about your theory - that Detective Superintendent Swainton was being
pressured?'

    'I
don't know ... I was probably just being emotional. I know a lot of the boys in
CID. I can't see any of them going easy on a case like this, especially after
the second postmortem. What you need to know is what Katy was up to in the
couple of days before she died, that's what they'll be trying to find out.'

    'You
honestly believe we can trust them, even after whatever happened to Harry
Marshall?'

    Alison
glanced over her shoulder at the door, checking it was shut fast. 'The way I
see it, you could turn them down, but apart from Professor Lloyd's findings
you've nothing to go on. The jury
might
come back with a verdict of
unlawful killing, but where does that get you - you still need the police to
find the perp.'

    'What
do you suggest?'

    'Give
them their adjournment and use the time to sniff around, take a few more
statements - they can't stop you doing that.'

    'And
meanwhile the truth gets buried deeper?'

    'There
are a couple of blokes in CID, old friends of Harry's. I'll have a word, see
what they've heard.'

    Jenny
considered the alternatives. Apart from potentially scuppering her career,
refusing the adjournment might lead her nowhere fast. What she wanted was the
unvarnished truth, and Alison was right, there was little chance of hearing it
in open court during the next two days. And if the police really were involved
in a cover-up of some sort, the chances of her unearthing the facts by herself
were non-existent.

    Jenny
resumed her seat at the head of the hall. Hartley looked at her expectantly, a
battery of legal authorities at the ready in the event her decision didn't go
his way.

    'I
have considered your application on behalf of the chief constable, Mr Hartley,
and I'm prepared to adjourn for fourteen days.'

    Hartley
rose with a satisfied smile. 'Thank you, ma'am.'

    'However,
before I do so, I would like to hear again from Dr Peterson. Would you come
forward, please?'

    She gave
Hartley no time to object. He exchanged a look with Mallinson, who shrugged, as
if to say they had nothing to fear.

    Peterson's
solicitor leaned forward and whispered words of instruction to him. He got up,
walked to the front of the hall and sat in the witness chair, fixing his eyes
on Jenny.

    'Dr
Peterson, you have heard Professor Lloyd's evidence. Do you have any
explanation for why you failed to note the three factors which led him to
conclude that Katy Taylor died a violent death?'

    In a
calm, even voice with a well-judged hint of apology, he said, 'Professor Lloyd
was quite correct to say that I was handling, and still am handling, an
enormous caseload. Now and again things are missed which shouldn't be. The
police informed me that Katy Taylor had died from a suspected drugs overdose
and my findings confirmed that. It was not suggested to me that her death was
violent, therefore I didn't carry out the detailed investigations Professor
Lloyd was briefed to do. Dissection of the shoulder, for example, is not a
common procedure in a post-mortem.' He glanced over at Professor Lloyd, who was
seated in the front row of the public seats. 'I am grateful to my colleague for
sharing his findings and to you, ma'am, for requesting a second examination. And
for the sake of Miss Taylor and her family, I sincerely hope the police
investigation is successful. They have my deepest sympathy.'

    Back
in the small side office, Jenny packed her books and papers into her briefcase
with a sense of anti-climax. After all the anxiety and anticipation she had
managed only one and a half days in court. She felt for Claire and Andy Taylor.
First the shock of an exhumation, then hearing that their daughter had probably
died a violent death and now an adjournment. Their agony must seem endless.

    When
her outrage at what had felt at the time like a cynical ambush by Hartley began
to subside, she concluded that she had probably made the right decision. She
had a breathing space in which to interview witnesses in her own time and to
try to gain an understanding of what Marshall's reasons were, if any, for not
holding an inquest in the first place. Perhaps she had been too swift to
imagine a conspiracy, too easily swept up in the emotion of a teenager's
shocking death. Snapping her briefcase shut, she made a decision to go about
her investigation in as detached and professional a manner as she could. She
was the coroner, an impartial, clear-headed, determined investigator of the
truth.

    Pulling
on her raincoat, which, judging by the increasingly frequent spits of rain
against the window, she was likely to be glad of, there was a knock on the door
behind her. 'Come in, Alison.' She glanced out of the window, drawn by a flash
of lightning in the distance. 'Everything sorted out?'

    A
voice answered, 'It's Tara Collins.'

    Jenny
wheeled round to see a woman in her upper thirties, a little over five feet
tall, with fierce, determined eyes and short dark hair. She was smartly but not
expensively dressed in a trouser suit. Jenny recalled seeing her sitting in
court that morning and had assumed she was a lawyer of some sort - the
journalists had distinguished themselves by their scruffiness and frequent
yawns.

    'Have
you got a moment?'

    'I can't
discuss the case—'

    'It's
not about the case, not directly at least. I spoke to your officer and she said
it would be all right.'

    Jenny
was cautious. 'It'll have to be brief .. .'

    Tara stepped
fully inside and closed the door behind her. 'I was at home writing a piece on
Katy's exhumation and this inquest when I called you on Saturday. Ten minutes
after we finished the police turned up and arrested me on suspicion of credit
card fraud. It's a complete joke. I've been framed. I spent the weekend in a
police cell. They bailed me at six this morning. I'm in court first thing
tomorrow - I'm supposed to have defrauded Western Union of $25,000.'

    'Have
they got evidence?'

    'Apparently
my laptop has been used to wire money to someone in New York I've never heard
of. The cash was purchased with stolen credit card details which I'm meant to
have entered on the Western Union website. The really sweet bit is that the US
authorities could apply to have me extradited. Whoever thought this one up
really put some effort in.'

    'Who
was the complainant?'

    'Tip-off,
that's all they'll say. And they took my computer and back-up drives. All my
work's on there, research notes, interview transcripts. Everything.'

    Jenny
felt a numb sensation spreading from the tips of her fingers. 'Is there any
particular reason you think this is related to Katy's case?'

    'I've
been making a few calls, trying to work out how well Katy and Danny knew each
other. I told you they'd been to the same drug awareness class run by the Youth
Offending Team back in December.'

    'Where
did you get that?'

    'A
girl called Hayley Johnson. She was a friend of Katy's, similar lifestyle but a
touch older - she's eighteen.'

    'She
sounds interesting.'

    'I'll
see if I can find her again - she's a bit hard to pin down, moves around a
lot.' Tara ran a hand through her tight hair and let out a sigh of frustration.
'Look, I want you to know I'm not usually one to get paranoid. If you think I'm
crazy, I'd rather you just told me straight so I can give you some more
detail.'

    Jenny
shook her head. 'I'll believe you. Have you got good lawyers? They should be
able to check the history of those transactions.'

    'I'll
be working on it, don't worry.' 'So, what I can do for you, Ms Collins?' Tara
said, 'Don't let go of this thing until you find an answer.'

    Two
teenagers had died and, according to Tara Collins, not only were their deaths
linked, but someone very determined and very organized was trying to prevent an
investigation. These were powerful claims and Jenny was struggling to make
sense of them. Just as she was getting her own irrational fears under control,
the journalist's visit had unnerved her again. She told Alison nothing of what
Tara had said and sent her off to buy new furniture for the office instead. She
wanted time alone to think.

    Back
in Jamaica Street she locked the outer door between reception and the hallway,
closed the Venetian blind at her office window and sat in artificial light with
a legal pad and pen. There was the usual crop of daily death reports to deal
with, but they would have to wait. Unless she made a plan, her anxiety would
mount until she could no longer function. She started to note down her
thoughts.