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scratched his ear, staring at the boards and pictures on the walls around him.

‘We’re stuffed. No wonder Turnbull wants to interview Carsley again. According to Claire Trent, he thinks the father may have been involved in his son’s murder.’

‘What?’ Emily’s mouth dropped open and then her features twisted in something that resembled both scorn and disbelief. ‘That’s a crazy idea.’

‘You don’t think he could have done it?’

‘Not a cat in hell’s chance. Listen, I’ve spent two weeks with the man, I’d know if he topped his own son. Nobody, I don’t care how good an actor they are, can keep up the pretence for that long.’

Ridpath breathed out. ‘Well, if that’s true, we not only have to solve this case. We may also have to clear an innocent man.’

Chapter 17

At the end of the meeting, they decided on a plan of action.

Ridpath would bring himself up to speed on the case. ‘I’ll also visit the man who discovered the body.’

‘Jon Morgan.’

‘Him.’

‘You want his number?’

‘No thanks. I think an unannounced visit would be better. No point in spooking him unnecessarily.’

Emily would check the 3000 phone calls to see if anything had been missed, while Chrissy would trawl through the police database looking for similar crimes or MOs going back ten years. She was also going to check the Sexual Offenders Register to see if anybody had moved into the area and somehow been forgotten.

Ridpath went to the Coroner’s Office without bothering to have lunch – the idea of eating never occurred to him. Sophia was sitting at her desk, nibbling a samosa.

‘Are you still in touch with Jonathan Schofield?’

She raised her eyebrow. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing meant. I wanted to talk to him about the post-mortem of the Carsley boy.’

‘Why don’t you just ring him?’

‘I… I…’ Ridpath stammered.

‘But if you are asking are we a couple? The answer is no. We had a few dates but it sort of fizzled out. Clear enough for you?’

‘What I meant was…’

‘If it’s an office enquiry, shouldn’t you be using official channels, not me?’

Ridpath held his hands up. This was obviously a touchy subject. ‘You’re right. Sorry, Sophia, I didn’t mean to pry into your private life.’

‘Everybody seems to be doing it at the moment, why not you?’ Then a sigh. ‘Sorry, Ridpath, but I’ve had my female cousin who’s getting married next week, her mum, my mum, and even the bloody caterer asking if I am going to be bringing somebody to the wedding? And that’s only today. I’ll ring him if you want.’

‘No worries, you’re right, better make it official, I’ll do it.’

He made the call himself as he should have done in the beginning. Schofield was as busy as ever but could see him early tomorrow morning.

As he finished, he heard Mrs Challinor calling him from her office. ‘Are you back, Ridpath?’

He walked in.

‘Claire Trent spoke to you?’

‘She did.’

‘If you don’t want to investigate the case, let me know and I’ll have a word with her. I’m worried you’re taking on too much too quickly.’

At that moment, Ridpath realised he hadn’t thought of Polly once that morning. He hadn’t even seen her. Perhaps Claire Trent was right. What he needed to do was get back into work and stop moping around.

‘No, it’s fine, Mrs Challinor, if I felt I couldn’t handle it, I would have said no.’

‘OK, but let me know immediately if it gets too much for you. I’ll have none of this macho male rubbish, keeping it all in and hiding emotions. That sort of thinking should have gone out with the Flintstones, but unfortunately, it’s still with us.’

‘I’m fine, Coroner. I’ll let you know immediately if I feel I can’t cope with it.’

‘And I made it clear to Claire that if I feel your work as a coroner’s officer suffers, I will pull you off the case. Understand?’

‘Completely, Coroner.’

‘When is your next session with Dr Underwood?’

Did Mrs Challinor know everything about him?

‘This afternoon, after I interview the man who discovered the young boy’s body. The EMDR therapy is useful and I don’t mind seeing her.’

‘You are open and tell her everything?’

Ridpath crossed his fingers behind his back, a strategy his mother had taught him when he told a white lie. Even though that was thirty years ago, he still did it. ‘I tell her everything that occurs to me.’

He hoped Mrs Challinor didn’t call him out on all the weasel words in his last sentence. She seemed to be about to before thinking better of it.

‘I’ve had a terse note from the SIO on the Carsley case…’

‘Paul Turnbull.’

‘That’s the man. It reads, “The pathologist has completed his investigations, you can release the body of David Carsley to the family.”’

‘That’s it?’

‘That’s it. A personable fellow, is he?’

‘Life and soul of the party.’

‘Has the pathologist signed off too?’

‘I’m seeing Dr Schofield tomorrow morning. I’ll get him to do it then.’

‘Does Mr Carsley have an undertaker?’

‘I’ve arranged for Padraig Daly to see him.’

‘Good, stay on top of this one, Ridpath. This man has been through enough without this office adding to his woes.’

‘Will do, Coroner. Anything else?’

She shook her head.

He turned to leave.

‘But do call me if it all gets too much, Ridpath, I’ll always be here for you.’

‘Thank you, Coroner, I’m sure I can handle it.’

As he closed the door, he wondered if he should have told her about Polly.

Was it strange that she still talked to him or was this perfectly normal?

Chapter 18

Molly Wright had a problem.

She was sitting in the cafe nursing her Americano – although it was lunchtime she couldn’t face food. Coffee was her drink of choice, her fuel which kept her going all through the day and long into the night. Sometimes, she drank ten cups a day. She knew this probably wasn’t great for her body, and time as the health reporter for the Mirror had more than confirmed this. But she couldn’t stop drinking now. Her addiction was complete, even down to the inability to sleep at night. Just another one

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