The Coroner (29 page)

    'Can
you spare a moment, Mrs Wills?'

    Simone
sighed and shook off the three-year-old, who was tugging at her leg. 'If you
don't mind the place being a bloody mess.'

    'Five
minutes and I'll be out of your hair.'

    Resigned,
Simone led off along the hallway strewn with toys and children's clothes and
took Jenny into the sitting room. It hadn't seen much cleaning in a while;
there were dirty plates and crisp packets on the three-piece suite. She plonked
the two-year-old in a playpen and cleared a space on the sofa. The boy screamed
and shook the bars while his sister poked at him from the other side with him a
plastic sword.

    'Ignore
them. They'll scream their heads off no matter what you do.'

    'You've
got your hands full.'

    'Tell
me about it. On my own now as well.' She brought a packet of cheap cigarettes
out of her pocket. 'Ali's gone.' She tugged one out and lit it.

    'Oh.
I'm sorry.'

    'I'm
not. He was crap with kids. Where he comes from, kids make a noise they beat
the living shit out of them. I told him if he tried that with one of mine I'd
have him arrested for child abuse. Called me a white whore.' She took a drag,
held the smoke in deep for a full count. When she blew it out it was almost
clear, filtered through her lungs. 'He's Egyptian. Won't be going with one of
them again. I'd rather have a Jamaican any day.'

    Jenny
nodded in sympathy, spotting Ali's new iPod speakers sitting on top of the TV.

    Simone
smiled and coughed. 'He forgot to take them with him. He can stuff it, it was
my money.'

    Jenny
said, 'I promised you last week I'd read Danny's file. I did. I've got some
questions. Did he ever mention a girl called Katy Taylor? You might have read
about her. She was in Portshead at the same time as him. She died a week after
she got out.'

    Simone's
expression became serious. 'I knew Katy. She was at Oakdene Primary with him.
Family used to live here, then moved out. Turned bad, didn't she?'

    'She
had problems. What do you know about her?'

    'Danny
never mentioned her, but I've seen her around the estate a few times.' 'With?'

    'Not
really sure. A gang of girls one time. I can't keep up with them.'

    'Hayley
Johnson?'

    Simone
looked blank. 'Never heard of her.'

    'When
was the last time you saw Katy?'

    'Not
since she was out. . . January, February?'

    It
wasn't much, but it was something. Katy had gravitated back to where she had
been at primary school, probably hanging out with old classmates. She could put
Alison or her friends in the police to work finding out who they were.

    'The
other thing is about Mr Marshall. You said he changed before the inquest, went
quiet on you.'

    Simone
took a short, angry puff on her cigarette. 'That's right.' The kids were
screaming louder, looking for attention. She shouted at the younger one, 'Shut
up, Sam.'

    He
took no notice. He had the little girl's fingers inside the bars and was trying
to bite them.

    Jenny
waited for a gap in the yelling. 'What was the last conversation you had with
him?'

    'God,
this noise.' Simone put her hands over her ears, trying to think. 'On the phone
... on the Friday.'

    'Can
you remember what about?'

    'Our
social worker, Ruth Turner, wanted to speak to him. She'd tried phoning but he
hadn't got back to her.'

    'Who's
she?'

    'She
looks in on the kids and that. Never had much to do with Danny, it was mostly
the young ones, but it was her who wanted him seen by a psychiatrist.'

    'When?'

    'Before
he went to Portshead.'

    'What
did Marshall say?'

    'He'd
give her a ring. Don't think he did, though.' She found an empty Dr Pepper can
on the floor and used it as an ashtray.

    'Have
you got a number for her?'

    'Somewhere
. . .'

    'I'll
find it. She works out of the family centre, does she?'

    'Yeah.'
She snapped at the toddler, 'Sam, if you don't bloody shut up I'll get Ali
back.'

    He
stopped screaming and let go of his sister's fingers.

    'Thanks,
Simone. I'll leave you to it.' Jenny got up from the sofa, the tacky carpet
sticking to the soles of her shoes.

    Simone
said, 'Oh. There's something I forgot to tell you last time, 'bout what
happened before the inquest.'

    Jenny
stopped in the doorway. 'Yeah?'

    'You
know the press found out all about my past record and that? They also found out
about these two having been in care when they were tiny.'

    'They
could have got that from one of your well-meaning neighbours.'

    'Maybe.
But the day before the inquest, the Sunday, the cops came round and turned the
place over. Said my twelve- year-old, Scott, had been seen dealing.'

    'Did
they find anything?'

    'No
way. He's not like his brother. Goes to school and everything. The kid was
terrified - they had him down at the station for three hours.'

    'You
were lucky Ali didn't have a stash in the house.'

    'He
did. Guess who had to walk around with a two-ounce wrap up her half the day? A
Jamaican would have swallowed the lot and no one would have known the
difference. They can even turn a police raid into a party, those boys.'

    Jenny
smiled. 'I thought you said Danny's dad was from Trinidad?'

    'Trinidadians
are different. They're right villains.'

    It
must have taken a dozen attempts to track down Ruth Turner's number through the
council's switchboard but eventually a hassled-sounding woman answered her
mobile with a lot of traffic noise in the background.

    Jenny,
sitting in her car still outside Simone's, said, 'Is that Ruth Turner?'

    'Who's
this?'

    'Jenny
Cooper. Severn Vale District Coroner.'

    
'Who?

    Jenny
raised her voice and gave her name again.

    'Oh.
Right.' She calmed down. 'What can I do for you?'

    'I'd
like to talk to you, this morning if possible.'

    'Oh .
. . I'm out of the office, between appointments.'

    'I'll
drive over and meet you somewhere. Whatever you want. It's urgent.'

    Ruth
Turner took a moment coming back to her, then said, 'I'm coming back through
Clifton in half an hour. Do you know Dino's?'

    'I'll
find it.'

    The
social worker took closer to an hour to arrive at the little Italian cafe,
leaving Jenny to deal with Dino, who kept trying to offer her the lunch menu,
giving her a look over his moustache which said he could do her something extra
special.

    Forty-two
was an interesting age. If you dressed up you were still a young man's fantasy,
but old guys tried their luck with you as well, ones with pot bellies and
facial hair. She thought about Steve for the first time since the weekend. It
had felt good having someone solid next to her at David's. 'Solid' - the word
just popped into her head, but it didn't seem to square. Steve had opted out of
life and was wasting his talents grubbing around for gardening jobs. That
wasn't solid. Still, it was nice to know a good-looking younger man was
attracted to her. She wondered what would have happened had he reached out and
touched her while he was lying there on the grass.

    'Mrs
Cooper?'

    Jenny
popped out of her daydream and saw a woman of about her own age, carrying too
much weight and mumsy-looking. Dyed auburn hair everywhere, no make-up.

    'Hi,
Ruth.' Jenny gestured to the chair opposite.

    Ruth
called out to Dino by the counter, 'Skinny latte, Dino.'

    He
gave a backwards flick of his forehead, not returning her smile. She hung her
oversized handbag, which doubled as a briefcase, over the back of the chair and
dropped into the seat with a dramatic sigh.

    Jenny
didn't want to hear about her busy morning, so got straight to business. 'I'm
looking into the death of Danny Wills. I believe you are the family's social
worker.'

    'Yes,
but I thought the inquest was all over with.'

    'That
depends. My predecessor wasn't a well man when he conducted it. I've got to
make sure he took account of everything he should have.'

    'I'm
afraid he never answered my calls. I would have liked to speak to him.'

    'That's
what I wanted to ask you about. What happened there?'

    'I
hadn't been with the Wills family for that long, only a couple of months, but Simone
had told me about Danny and his pre-sentence report and how he was reacting,
getting depressed. Well, given what a difficult time he'd had, I thought he
ought to have a psychiatric assessment before the court considered putting him
in custody.' She paused and sighed again. 'I don't know if you have any idea
how long these referrals take, Mrs Cooper—'

    'I
was in childcare law for fifteen years. Head of North Somerset's legal team.'

    'Then
you'll know.' She seemed relieved. 'I put in a request to one of my colleagues
and I called the Youth Offending Team, what's-his-name?'

    'Justin
Bennett.'

    'Yeah.'
She gave Jenny a look:
that one.
'He said he'd see what he could do, but
nothing happened. Two weeks went by and the next thing I know Simone's calling
me in a panic, saying they've just sent him into custody and she was frightened
he was going to hurt himself.'

    A
lumpy young waitress appeared with Ruth's coffee. Dino was busy greeting a
couple of pretty twenty-somethings who'd just arrived, giving them the pick of
the tables. She took a mouthful and wiped the foam off her lip with the back of
her hand. 'I was up to my eyes that day - I had a care hearing going on - but I
called the reception centre at Portshead a few times and finally got through to
someone there. Actually, I think she was a nurse.'

    'There's
a nurse called Linda Raven mentioned on his file.'

    'That
rings a bell. She said he would be given a psychiatric assessment as part of
the reception procedure. I said, would that be by a psychiatrist? She said, no,
but the procedures were perfectly proper. That's all I could get out of her.'
She broke off, her expression telling Jenny she felt guilty about her role in
this. 'I'm afraid I didn't have time to pursue it. You know what it's like when
you're in court . . . When I heard Danny had hanged himself I tried to call
Portshead again, but no one would speak to me. I finally got through to the
local health trust out there and they said they weren't currently providing
psychiatric services to Portshead Farm because of a dispute over contracts. As
far as I could make out the trust and the company that runs Portshead couldn't
agree on how much having a psychiatrist on call was going to cost.'

    'What
happens to an inmate with a psychiatric problem?'

    'Good
point. All their medical staff come from a private company. A psychiatrist
should be part of the package. I'd argue every child should be seen by a
psychiatrist on reception, but it's not required.'

    'Danny
was put in an observation cell for several days dressed in something my
predecessor described as like a horse blanket.'

    'That's
their idea of psychiatric care, I'm afraid. That's what I wanted to be looked
into at the inquest. I wanted to tell Mr Marshall that if there had been a
psychiatrist there they might have spotted the signs and done something - at
least put him on medication.'

    'Did
you think of writing to him with this information?' Jenny asked.