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

and even more facts.’

‘Facts don’t tell the whole story, Emily. We choose the ones we like to confirm our assumptions.’

‘What about evidence, Ridpath? Isn’t it our job to collect evidence to prove someone’s guilt or innocence?’

‘True. But sometimes we know somebody is guilty but can’t prove it. Or we have the evidence of guilt but can’t convince the CPS that it will stand up in a court of law. Or, and this is the worst, we can prove guilt, the CPS wants to go forward, but some clever lawyer gets the guilty off on a technicality. A policeman’s lot is not a happy one.’

‘Where’s that from?’

Years of doing pub quizzes gave him the answer. ‘The Pirates of Penzance.’

She looked at him quizzically.

‘Gilbert and Sullivan.’

‘Oh, I know him. Didn’t he sing “Claire” or something like that?’

Ridpath rolled his eyes. ‘I give up, Emily, you’re a lost cause. But, before I forget…’ He took the bag with the mobile phone out of his pocket. ‘Can you get the techies to download the data on this?’

‘Which bits of the data?’

‘All the text messages and the specific location data for the day of David’s disappearance.’

She eyed him suspiciously. ‘What are you up to, Ridpath?’

He held out his arms. ‘Me? Nothing. But I bet Turnbull didn’t look at it.’

‘I don’t think he did. There was no point. We had the time when David disappeared.’

‘But the location data will give us an exact time he went to the park and a time when he returned.’

‘Is that important?’

‘It might be, I don’t know yet.’

‘OK, I’ll ask one of them to do it.’

‘Today, if you can. I’d like to give it him back tomorrow.’

‘But that means going back to HQ. I was planning to check out the local area for CCTV now.’

‘You can do it later. Your bike will be handy for getting round the streets.’

‘I know.’

‘I can give you a lift back if you want?’

‘The last of the gentlemen, that’s you, Ridpath.’

‘You’re only just discovering the truth, Emily? And I thought you were a smart detective.’

Chapter 32

After dropping Emily Parkinson off at Police HQ, Ridpath drove back out to the Coroner’s Court in Stockfield.

The place was quiet. Mrs Challinor was chairing an inquest and the new coroner, Helen Moore, was nowhere to be found. Only Sophia was in the office.

‘I didn’t think I’d see you today,’ she said.

‘Thought I’d check in. See if anything was happening.’

‘Mrs Challinor will be back shortly. Her inquest should be finished for lunch.’

‘Did Dr Schofield get in touch?’

She eyed him suspiciously.

‘I only want to know if he released David Carsley’s body?’

‘Yes, the form is here somewhere.’ She searched her desk. ‘Here it is. Signed and sealed.’

‘Great, can you see that Padraig Daly gets a copy and arranges a time to pick up the body from the morgue? Michael Carsley is in no shape to arrange a funeral, we’ll have to do it for him. Can I leave the details with you?’

‘No problem.’

As Sophia was speaking, Mrs Challinor came into the office, talking to David Smail. ‘If that smarmy barrister interrupts me again when I’m questioning a witness, I’ll…’

Ridpath never found out what she was going to do to the solicitor.

‘…Ridpath, you’re in. We weren’t expecting to see you today.’

‘It seems nobody was. Can we have a chat?’

‘Come into my office.’

He followed her and watched as she arranged the inquest’s files neatly on her desk, before sitting down heavily in her chair. ‘Been one of those days, Ridpath. Witnesses not turning up, others turning up but not answering questions. And a junior legal counsel confusing a coroner’s court with a court of law. How has your day been?’

‘Interesting, Mrs Challinor.’

‘Is that good or bad?’

‘I met with the pathologist this morning.’

‘And?’

‘The details of the case are disturbing. He thinks we may have a child serial killer operating in Manchester. And so does the criminal profiler.’

She stared at him, her blue eyes, surrounded by the nest of grey curls and alabaster skin, boring into him. ‘Do you agree, Ridpath?’

‘Yes.’

‘What does Claire Trent think?’

‘I don’t know yet, I haven’t briefed her, but…’

‘The mere fact she has asked you to look into the investigation tells me she’s worried.’

‘Exactly, Coroner.’

‘What have you discovered?’

‘Not a lot. The investigation seems to have been thorough, if a little pedestrian. Charlie Whitworth would have been scouring the streets, not stopping until he found the killer.’

‘Policing has changed since DCI Whitworth’s day, Ridpath. You of all people should know that. What are your next steps?’

He checked the clock. ‘I’m going to interview the wife this evening, find out why she left.’

‘Women leave the marital home for many reasons, Ridpath.’ Her eyes then seemed to lose focus for a second. ‘Mainly, because they start to hate the man they thought was the love of their life.’

‘But to leave without her kids?’

‘Don’t judge, Ridpath.’ She then paused for a moment, brushing an imaginary piece of lint from her blotter. ‘Let me tell you about myself. When my children were six and four, I left my husband. The man I thought was the kindest, gentlest human being on earth turned out to be a controlling, jealous monster.’

‘But you took your children with you?’

She shook her head. ‘Not for a year. I had nowhere to go. The house was in his name, everything was in his name. The saving grace was that he loved the children. I set my own house up, starting almost from scratch, and finally, eighteen months later, petitioned for custody of my children. It took another year for them to come back to me. Two and a half years of hell.’ She tucked one of the long grey curls behind her ear. ‘Children change so much and so quickly at that age.’ She glanced across at the picture on her desk of her daughter and her grandchild. ‘In many ways, we are still trying to make up for the time we lost.’ She sighed. ‘My daughter and I had a difficult time together. I blame myself, I should have listened more, understood