‘It was almost like he was going through the motions rather than trying to find the truth.’
‘Retirement syndrome. Half the nick seems to suffer from it.’
Claire Trent walked into the room and everybody sat a little bit straighter, detectives hurried to their places and a few more squeezed into the room before the door was closed.
‘Right, you lot, what have you got for me? The Chief Constable is not chuffed we’ve added two more murders to his stats. He’s got enough on his plate with the computer cock-up and the review by the Inspectorate of Police. He wants this sorted and fast. In addition, the reporters have heard we’ve been put on the case. I’ve already had one on the phone this morning sniffing my arse, looking for titbits. Ridpath, you lead with Chrissy.’
Ridpath stood and strode to a place in front of the boards. ‘We filled in more information for both victims. Wendy Chen used the alias Wendy Tang and that’s the name she was detained under by the Immigration Enforcement. She was a confidential informant for DS Ronald Barnes.’
‘What was she telling him?’ asked Emily Parkinson.
‘She was giving information on people-trafficking gangs. Names, dates, money, apparently she knew everything.’
‘So where’s the intelligence?’
‘She wanted payment and they wouldn’t stump up.’
‘But if she was a CI, how did she get arrested?’
‘Barnes had to tell Immigration Enforcement she was illegal and they arrested her.’
‘That’s sick!’
‘No, it isn’t, DS Parkinson, DS Barnes did his job. Until the Home Office changes the rules, you would do exactly the same. Do I make myself clear?’
Claire Trent held the young detective’s gaze for a long while. ‘Am I clear, DS Parkinson?’
She looked away. ‘Yes, guv’nor.’
‘Carry on, DI Ridpath.’
He pointed to the schematic. ‘This is a plan of the Removal Centre. My assistant, Sophia,’ he pointed to her, ‘has marked the location of the CCTV cameras. The ones with a blue “X” were out of order on the night of the murder.’
Claire Trent counted the Xs. ‘Six cameras out of order?’
‘Right, guv’nor.’
‘It seems a lot.’
‘According to Lucy Bucknall, the PR woman, it’s normal,’ answered Sophia, before looking down nervously. ‘There’s one other thing I noticed as we were putting up the boards…’
‘What is it, Sophia?’ asked Ridpath.
‘Well,’ Sophia stood up and, taking a black marker from the desk, proceeded to put short black lines from the front entrance of the Immigration Removal Centre to the place where the victim was found, Room 7.
It was Ridpath who reacted first. ‘The route seems to pass close to all the blue “Xs”.’
‘Right,’ said Sophia. ‘All six CCTV cameras that weren’t working lead directly from the front door to the victim’s room.’
Chapter 52
‘What?’
‘None of the CCTV cameras were working on the route, boss.’
‘Somebody could have entered the Removal Centre without being seen by the Control Room.’
‘Even more important, their movements wouldn’t have been recorded.’
Sophia walked over to the board with the picture of the shadow on the stairs. ‘Except here, when it was caught by accident.’
‘Right first time. Another coincidence in a bunch of bloody coincidences?’
‘I also checked the footage of the cameras in the vicinity of the route. They all had nothing except this image and it’s not so clear.’
‘It could just be a camera fault or dirt on the lens,’ said Emily Parkinson.
Ridpath held out the CD. ‘It could be, but check out the footage yourself.’
‘I’d like to see it,’ said Claire Trent.
He passed the footage across to his boss. ‘Chrissy, you were doing background checks on the Centre’s staff, anything on them?’ she asked.
The civilian officer shook her head. ‘All seem to be straight, no criminal records and have worked in custodial services for most of their lives. One of them, Tony Osborne, was investigated for being part of a ring smuggling mobile phones into Forest Green. Two other guards were charged but he wasn’t. He moved soon afterwards to the Removal Centre, nothing on him since.’
‘Can you follow up? Find out who did the investigation and see if you can find the files?’
Chrissy wrote a note to herself.
Ridpath moved along to a picture of the second victim, Liang Xiao Wen.
‘Before you move on, Ridpath,’ said Claire Trent, ‘if you are suggesting there was a path from the entrance of the Centre to the victim’s room, with no CCTV cameras working, it means…’
‘Somebody on the inside had de-activated the cameras before the killer arrived.’
‘Or was already inside the Centre and didn’t want to be seen on CCTV,’ added Emily Parkinson.
‘Correct. Hold that thought, let’s come back to it in a minute.’ Ridpath pointed to the picture of Liang Xiao Wen. ‘He went under the name Bobby Liang and had form for small-time Chinatown stuff: racketeering, pimping, intimidation. Again, I’d like to find out why he was arrested by Immigration Enforcement. I’d also like to know who was paying his legal fees. His solicitor isn’t your normal run-of-the-mill ambulance chaser.’
‘I’ll check with the head of the North West Immigration Enforcement,’ said Claire Trent.
‘It leads me to my first question.’ He picked up a felt pen and wrote on the whiteboard. Did Chen and Liang know each other?
‘When I questioned him, he said they didn’t. Now I’m not so sure. They certainly moved in similar circles. According to Ronald Barnes, Wendy Chen was involved, even if peripherally, in the vice trade. Looks like Liang was too.’
Chrissy jumped in. ‘Ted Jones has come back with the results of his house-to-house…’
‘Let me guess. People heard nothing. Saw nothing. Said nothing.’
‘Right first time, boss. Forensics are rushing through their samples but the preliminary shout from Tracey is nothing. No fibres. No hair. No DNA. She’s still got some work to finish yet but it’s not looking great.’
‘It’s almost like the killer wasn’t there? Could the pathologist be mistaken and this is just another suicide?’ asked Emily Parkinson.
‘I’ve worked with Dr Schofield before and he doesn’t make mistakes. And you can’t kill yourself after being tasered,’ Ridpath answered.
‘There’s always a first time…’
‘No, Ridpath is right. We need to treat this as two linked murders until the evidence tells us differently. We don’t seem to have come far yet. Next steps, Ridpath?’
‘I was thinking about it last night. He looked across at Emily Parkinson. ‘If Wendy Chen was killed in the Removal Centre, if she was murdered there, it narrows the investigation. Joe Cummings, one of the officers, reported seeing her door open and so he went in.’ He took the pen and wrote on the whiteboard. Who opened the door?
‘Maybe it wasn’t locked in the first place,’ said Harry Makepeace.
‘Possible, but he thought he locked up as usual at 9.15 the previous evening. And it’s too much of a coincidence that a dead woman was found in the one room with an open door.’
‘It means somebody must have had keys.’
‘Right, DS Parkinson, which rules out another detainee but implicates one of the guards of the Centre or its management. Who had access to the keys?’
Claire Trent laid her hands on the table. ‘I think it’s time we questioned the Centre’s staff.’
‘They are all giving evidence at the inquest this morning.’
‘Ridpath, I suggest we let them go home. Let them think it’s all finished and they can relax. then we bring them in and interview them individually. We can start to put pressure on.’
‘I’ll organise it, guv’nor. I’m going to the Coroner’s Court later.’
&
nbsp; ‘Good, you get along there and make it happen. Somebody was the inside man, or woman, in all this.’
Ridpath was tempted to tell Claire Trent he had a hospital appointment at 10 a.m. but decided to keep his mouth shut. The less she knew about his cancer and the hospital, the better.
‘Will do, boss. Let’s go back to what we were discussing before. Did someone enter the prison that evening to kill Wendy Chen…?’
‘Or was the killer already there in the next room, Liang Xiao Wen? Somebody opened the door for him to commit the murder and locked him in his room again afterwards?’ said Emily Parkinson.
‘It was an idea I rolled over in my mind last night. But Liang was murdered with the same MO yesterday.’
‘Same MO doesn’t necessarily mean the same person. Just the same style of death.’
Claire Trent spoke loudly, interrupting their discussion. ‘We won’t solve this until we get the pathologist’s report later today on the second victim. What it does suggest is somebody from the Removal Centre was involved in the murder, either committing it or being an accessory. Either way, we need to question all of them ASAP.’
‘Agreed, boss.’
‘Next steps on Liang Xiao Wen?’
Ridpath stood in front of the picture on the board. ‘Harry, can you contact all his known associates, find out if anybody knows anything?’
‘Will do, Ridpath.’
‘So to conclude, let’s bring in the guards and the manager this afternoon for questioning. Chrissy, can you organise the plods and one team to bring the DCOs, Joe Cummings and Tony Osborne, in from their homes? The Centre Manager, David Carlton, is giving evidence this afternoon. Pick him up as soon as he finishes on the stand.’
‘Got it, Ridpath.’
‘We want them all here by 4 p.m., Chrissy.’ Claire Trent stood up. ‘Time to turn the screw on the screws. Let’s get this done, people.’
Chapter 53
Mrs Challoner stood in front of the mirror and adjusted the collar of her cream shirt, pulling down her black jacket so it sat level across her shoulders and moved her skirt a little more to the centre.
Appearance was important to her, particularly when she walked out to sit in front of a jury.
She checked the clock. 9.55. Just five minutes to go. She liked to start exactly on time, setting a precedent she would maintain throughout the session. Woe betide any junior barrister, solicitor or witness who was late back into one of her courts.
She leant closer to the mirror and checked her lips. Slightly smudged. She took out her lipstick and re-did the shape of her mouth, making sure the bow was perfect. She was going to be talking a lot today. Her usually unruly grey curls were tied back in a mass behind her head. Most people called this a ponytail, but she preferred to think of it as a mane.
There was a knock on the door and her office manager entered.
‘Two minutes, Coroner.’
‘Thank you, Jenny.’
The door closed and Mrs Challoner checked her make-up once more. Her hands were clammy. She was nervous for some reason. How many inquests had she held? Thousands in her career but for some reason she was nervous about his one.
Should she have listened to Ridpath and postponed it?
Possibly.
But after meeting with the family yesterday, she couldn’t disappoint them, particularly the mother. They had to take their daughter back to China on Saturday and she wasn’t going to stop them.
She pulled down her jacket once more and chose the correct case files from her desk. ‘Let’s get this done, Margaret.’
She opened the door on her left and walked straight into court no. 1. Immediately, a hush descended on the packed room.
She placed her files on her table, glanced across at the jury siting on her left and the solicitors in front of her and sat down. ‘Today we open the inquest into the death of Wendy Chen, known as Chen Hong Xi, and also known as Wendy Tang.’
She nodded towards the seven jurors. ‘There is a jury present at this inquest. I thank you in advance for your service. This inquest should last two days, unless new evidence comes to light.’ A quick glance at the papers in front of her. ‘Representing the family is a community worker, Ms Heidi Wong.’
A young Chinese woman rose and bowed her head.
‘Ms Wong will simultaneously translate the proceedings for the family.’ She nodded towards the old woman and her husband sitting next to the interpreter.
‘The operator of Wilmslow Removal Centre, New Hampshire Detention Services, is represented by Mr Ronald Stride, on behalf of the firm of Walker and Walker.’ A tall man at the table in front of her bowed his head.
‘The government is represented by Mr Archibald Sutton.’
A small, plump man stood up. ‘I have a watching brief from the government, Coroner, but don’t intend to intervene unless absolutely necessary. I will be joined tomorrow by a representative from the Chief Coroner.’
‘Thank you, Mr Sutton. I am always happy to see the government representatives in my court.’ She smiled in his direction and turned her head to the gallery. ‘A gentle reminder to all those present, including the ladies and gentlemen of the press I see before me.’ She gestured towards the group on her right. ‘This is not a court of law. I will ask each witness questions as I see fit. The legal representatives of the Immigrant Removal Centre and the representative for the family will then have the opportunity to question the witnesses when I have finished.’
There was a long pause as she opened the case file and found her notes for the first two witnesses. ‘This case is unusual, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, as we will be calling two pathologists to the stand. The first, Dr Schofield, has re-examined the body of the victim, Wendy Chen, earlier this week after an instruction from my office. The second, Dr Ahmed, examined Ms Chen in the days after her death. We will hear their testimony before we hear that of the custody officers who found her body, as their findings will have an impact on my questioning of those men…’
The barrister for New Hampshire Detention Services was on his feet. ‘Coroner, we only received these new findings from the second pathologist yesterday…’
‘You received them shortly after I did, Mr Stride.’
‘But Coroner, it has meant we have had no time to digest them properly and prepare a proper defence for our clients. We request with the utmost sincerity you postpone the inquest until we have had time to prepare a defence and advise our clients of their statutory obligations in this matter.’
Mrs Challoner took a deep breath. ‘I have to remind you, Mr Stride, this is an inquest into the death of Wendy Chen in Wilmslow Removal Centre on August 20, 2019. Your clients are not on trial so there is no need to prepare a defence for them. As for receiving Dr Schofield’s report, all I can say is you received it at the same time as I did, and have had the same amount of time to digest it as I have. I hope it did not give you indigestion.’
There were a few titters from the reporters.
‘I will not be postponing this inquest, Mr Stride. The family have flown a long way to attend this court and I have no intention of making the journey a fruitless one.’
‘Coroner, I must protest. This ruling affects the rights of my clients…’
‘Mr Stride,’ the coroner spoke louder, ‘I will say again your clients are not on trial. This inquest is to establish how Ms Chen died, when she died and where she died. That is all. Your request is denied. Jenny, can we proceed with calling our first witness, Dr Schofield?’
Reluctantly, the barrister sat down, glancing across at the solicitors representing the company. By making the protest, he had officially lodged a complaint at the way Mrs Challoner was running the inquest. It was now a matter of record. There was nothing she could do anymore except continue and hope Ridpath and MIT could discover new evidence in the next couple of days.
The die was cast.
Chapter 54
Ridpath sat in the hospital waiting room surrounded by other patients in variou
s stages of fear.
He had arrived ten minutes late but, as ever, the doctor was running behind schedule. He had entered, checked out the other patients and, in a couple of seconds, chosen the seat farthest away from anybody else.
He sat down and searched through the pile of magazines next to the seat for one published later than 2016.
There were none, so he picked a Country Life with a cover of a bucolic English village that existed only on jigsaw puzzles. He opened it at the middle and preceded to read it, trying to stop his mind thinking about the case.
Relax, Ridpath, let it go for half an hour. Instead, he stared out over the waiting room, checking out his fellow patients.
He had been coming here long enough to recognise the types. It was the first visit of the cocky guy on his own on the right. For one, he tried to talk to his neighbour, forbidden in places like this by the unwritten rules of cancer wards. Secondly, he wasn’t nervous. The doctor hadn’t given him the news yet of his cancer stage. The shaking hands, furrowed brow and sweating would come later.
The couple to his left had just received their news about a week ago, Ridpath was certain. They were grim-faced, occasionally whispering to each other but most of the time just staring out into mid-air.
From their faces, Ridpath worked out it was the woman who was the one with cancer, even though it was her partner who was the one who looked more ill. It was always harder on the partner.
He remembered how Polly handled it. A manic-depressive roller coaster of highs and lows; from we’re going to beat this together to what the hell are we going to do? Sometimes separated by just minutes.
The final couple on his left were just about to start chemo. He recognised the fear of the unknown on both their faces. Despite the doctor explaining everything, and Christie’s were lavish with their information, nobody knew how the body would react to the poisons given to kill the cancer cells. Even worse was the fear it wouldn’t work. This man would go through a month of hell and be told the cancer was still there.
Where the Innocent Die Page 17