When the Evil Waits by M Lee (i want to read a book .txt) 📗

room. Claire Trent let it lie there like a shroud until she finally broke the tension, saying, ‘Anything from the Coroner’s Office, Ridpath?’

‘My first day back was yesterday, so I’m still getting up to speed, but everything seems to be working well, nothing to report. Mrs Challinor has been liaising with the police through the local resilience forum.’

‘Recent Covid cases?’

‘Only two deaths in the last week, guvnor, but cases are apparently rising, particularly in Blackburn, Rochdale and Oldham. Greater Manchester declared a major incident on Sunday.’

‘At least the Coroner’s Office are operating efficiently.’

Was that a sly dig at Turnbull? Before he could check the room’s reaction, Claire Trent spoke again.

‘Remember, people, to be extra careful these days. All department Covid safety protocols must be used. Is that clear?’

The assembled detectives nodded their collective heads.

She spoke directly to Ridpath. ‘You are the family liaison with Michael Carsley for the coroner, aren’t you?’

How did Claire Trent know? Had Emily Parkinson reported back or had she talked to Mrs Challinor?

‘I am, guvnor,’ he answered.

‘What did you think? I heard you visited the house yesterday.’

All eyes turned on him. She was putting him on the spot in front of everybody and especially in front of Turnbull.

‘I don’t know, guvnor, it was a quick visit to introduce myself.’

‘I asked you what you thought, Ridpath.’

She was pushing hard. He breathed out. ‘I don’t know, guvnor, but it didn’t feel right…’

Turnbull snorted. ‘There he goes with his feelings and hunches again.’

Claire Trent ignored him. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m sorry, guvnor, nothing concrete, I just felt they were hiding something. Not telling me everything they knew.’

‘And where’s your evidence for that assertion, Ridpath?’ Turnbull was confronting him directly, a bright red vein standing out in stark relief on his bald head.

Ridpath shrugged his shoulders. ‘No evidence, boss. I felt that there was something there, something hidden.’

Turnbull rolled his eyes towards the ceiling. ‘In the meantime, the rest of us will keep gathering the evidence while you gather your “feelings”.’ He formed quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

A couple of the detectives on the left laughed. Ridpath didn’t know them, they were new to the department. Obviously, Turnbull’s hires, as they knew when to laugh at their boss’s jokes.

Claire Trent brought the meeting to a close. ‘Our most important case is catching the Chorlton Ees killer before he strikes again. Make it happen. Something must have given him away. A small slip-up that could lead us to him. Find those little mistakes and we find our killer. That’s all. Stay safe, people.’

Ridpath got up and filed out of the meeting. He noticed Turnbull staring in his direction, a scowl plastered on his face.

It wasn’t until he reached the car park that Harry Makepeace caught up with him.

‘The boss wants to see you, Ridpath.’

‘What does Turnbull want?’

‘Not him. The real boss. Claire Trent.’

Chapter 13

Ridpath knocked on the door of her office and waited for the call to enter.

It came after a few seconds. He walked in to find Claire Trent closing a file on her desk and placing it carefully to her left.

‘Is that me, guvnor?’ He pointed at the file.

‘It is. Your psychological and occupational health report. The psychiatrist has cleared you to return to work but still wants you to attend sessions with her. Why is that?’

‘I don’t know, you’ll have to ask her.’

‘I’ll do that.’ Claire Trent made a note in her diary and then pointed to the chair, ‘Sit down.’

Ridpath wondered what all this was about. Was he due for a bollocking again? He’d only been back on the job for a day, what had he done wrong this time?

‘What do you know about the Carsley case?’

‘Not a lot. I met the father yesterday to begin the coroner’s liaison with family. He’s asked for the release of his child’s body for burial.’

‘We can’t release it yet, Ridpath.’

‘Why?’

‘As SIO, Paul Turnbull has to agree we don’t need it for our ongoing investigations.’

Ridpath expected Claire Trent to say more but she stayed silent. Eventually, he spoke. ‘I’ll let the father know, but I’ll also get the undertaker to liaise with the mortuary so we’re ready when he gives the go-ahead.’

‘Fair enough.’ Claire Trent bit down on the end of her pen. Ridpath could see other indentations where her teeth had done damage. ‘What did you think of him?’

‘The father?’

She nodded.

‘Obviously upset and trying to come to terms with the loss of his son. He seemed out of it – he’s going through a lot.’

‘Do you think he could have done it?’

‘A father murdering his own son? It never occurred to me.’

‘Think about it now.’

‘Why are you asking?’

‘Because he has no alibi for the time of the boy’s disappearance. He says he was in the house watching TV but when we asked him about the programmes, he didn’t have a clue.’

‘That’s not unusual. Sometimes we stare at the screen, not knowing what’s on.’

Claire Trent looked at him for a moment before speaking. ‘Paul Turnbull wants to bring him in for questioning. I’ll ask you again, do you think he could have done it?’

Ridpath went back to his interview with Michael Carsley, replaying the answers, seeing the man’s shaking hands and hearing the tremor in his voice. ‘No, I don’t think he did. There is something there, something hidden, but I don’t think he murdered his own son. I don’t think he’s the type.’

Claire Trent’s right eyebrow rose. ‘There’s a type?’

‘No. But he struck me as a father who had lost a son he loved, not a man who’d committed murder.’ Ridpath put his hands up. ‘I could be wrong, though, and he may be one of the world’s best actors…’

‘But you don’t think you are?’

‘No.’

Claire Trent let out a long sigh. ‘I’m inclined to agree, but Paul is insisting he wants to question the man formally.’

‘If you bring him in, the press will crucify him.’

‘That’s where you come in.’

Ridpath knew there was a reason why she wanted to see him.

Chapter 14

‘I’d like you to look at