'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.

  '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.'

  * * *

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  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.

  Professor Lloyd's evidence had proved to her satisfaction that Katy was violently restrained, hit in the face and injected with a lethal dose of heroin. This might or might not have taken place where her body was found, but it seemed likely that it had happened elsewhere and her body was dumped or, more accurately, carefully arranged in the dense undergrowth. This meant that her attacker or attackers had a good deal of local knowledge - the location was obscure - which might support the theory that she was murdered by a man who used prostitutes; but why the violence if she was a willing sexual participant? In any event, her death probably took place on Tuesday 24 April and she went missing from home five days after her release from Portshead Farm. The police would now be concentrating their efforts on tracing her movements and contacts during that time. With a bit of luck, Alison would get inside information from her former colleagues and they would be able to stay abreast of developments. If evidence turned up which for some reason the police suppressed or failed to pursue, Jenny would investigate personally.

  Without drawing too much attention to herself, she would quietly develop a few lines of enquiry of her own. She wanted to speak to Mr and Mrs Taylor to find out if they had any clue where Katy might have been on the missing two days. Perhaps they knew more than they had admitted and for reasons of their own had chosen to keep certain things to themselves. Now they knew how their daughter had met her end they would surely be willing to part with anything they had. She also wanted to speak to Justin Bennett again, to the senior care officer at Portshead Farm and to Hayley Johnson, Katy's elusive friend, who, Tara had told her, moved from squat to squat, taking drugs and selling sex to pay for them.

  So far so good. She had witnesses to seek out and interview, evidence to gather. Solid, practical actions: tasks that a competent coroner would be expected to perform.

  Turning over a page she wrote down three names which represented all that was disturbing and intangible about the case: Danny Wills, Peterson, Harry Marshall.

  Danny's connection with Katy was one she could legitimately explore. As they had met in the past and as the evidence proved Katy had taken drugs while at Portshead Farm, it was logical to suppose there might be some drugs-related connection between them. Perhaps they were both in debt to the same pusher. Collecting money by violent means, even murder, was becoming commonplace in the city. Hayley Johnson might be able to help with an insight into the teenage underworld. It was one Jenny knew to be labyrinthine in its complexity and operatic in its melodrama; its loyalties, fears and feuds could only be understood with inside knowledge.

  Peterson's post-mortem examination remained an enigma. Even setting aside the fact that he didn't commit his report to paper until she forced him to, it was suspiciously brief. He had been very skilful in praising Professor Lloyd in court - he almost had her convinced that he merely made an innocent mistake - but her impression of him was not of a man who was slapdash. She had met plenty of lazy professionals in her time, people content to mark time until retirement, but none of them had still been athletic in their mid forties. He might be exasperated by, even resigned to, the failings of the NHS, but he still had the bright eyes of a man open to a new challenge. Katy's case couldn't have failed to spark his interest. And if he had spotted signs of violence he must have had a very compelling reason not to mention them. Next to his name Jenny put a large question mark.

  Harry Marshall presented another problem. A man who generally swam with the flow, but who, only a few weeks before signing Katy's death certificate, in flagrant breach of the regulations, had been threatening to shake the citadel to its foundations. She drew a connecting line between his name and Peterson's. They had been close colleagues. They operated on trust. Harry had taken Peterson's word and their old school system had ticked over for years. It seemed probable that Peterson was in some way involved in whatever had taken place, or at least had an inkling, but he was unlikely to talk. Still in mid-career and doubtless with a wife and family to support and protect, he would do all in his power to safeguard his position.

 

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