The interpreter continued after a short pause. ‘So we took her to the airport and saw her off, smiling all the time while inside our hearts were crying.’
‘She came to England to study, what happened next?’
‘All went well for the first year. She said her English was getting better and she was studying hard. She wanted to go on to university here when her English was good enough. In the evenings, she was working in a Chinese restaurant to make money…’
‘Do you know which one?’ asked Ridpath.
The woman shook her head. ‘She never said. It seemed to pay well as she never asked us for anything.’
‘Where was she living?’
‘We didn’t know. She was sharing an apartment with Xiao Feng and some other students to save money, she said. We never saw the other students, but when she rang on Sundays, her friend sometimes said hello.’
‘You never rang her?’
The woman shook her head. ‘She said it was too expensive, cheaper for her to ring us.’
‘A question about your daughter. Was she right- or left-handed?’
The woman appeared surprised. ‘Why do you ask? She was left-handed. My husband tried to force her to change when she was young, but she continued to write with her left hand whatever he did.’
Ridpath felt Mrs Challinor touch his arm lightly and say, ‘Let her tell her story.’
‘So after a year, she was supposed to come back, but she didn’t. She told us she wanted to stay in England, study more English, become better, make money working so she could pay for university herself. She stayed for over one year, she seemed happy and she still rang us every Sunday evening. I noticed she was getting thinner, but I thought it was just English food and she wasn’t eating correctly, but she said she was happy and had met someone…’
‘Did she say who?’ asked Ridpath.
‘No, just he was a good man, older than her but a good man…’
‘And what happened?’ Mrs Challinor interrupted.
‘We had a phone call one Tuesday, late in the evening. It woke me up. She said she was in prison. The English didn’t like people staying in their country without permission and she was coming home.’
‘When was this?’
‘December 2017. I remember because it had just got cold in Shanghai and the first snow had fallen. She came home two days later. She was thin as if she hadn’t been eating, but we were just so happy to have our daughter back.’
‘Was Xiao Feng with her?’ asked Mrs Challinor.
‘She was. Both of them were so thin. Of course, they had to go to the Public Security Bureau to explain. Hong Xi told them she just overstayed her visa. They didn’t care, she had done nothing wrong in China.’
‘So she came home?’
‘But she was restless, as if she couldn’t settle any more. She avoided her friends and didn’t go out much. The only person she spent any time with was Xiao Feng. And there were the calls to England…’
‘She was ringing here? Do you know which number?’
‘She wouldn’t tell us. We saw the phone bills though. It was expensive.’
‘And what happened?’
‘She told us she was going back to England. We begged her not to go, to stay in China, to stay with us. But her mind was made up and my daughter was always stubborn, once she decided something, nothing could change her mind.’
‘If she had already been deported back from England, how was she going to come back here?’
‘She said she knew a way, but it would cost money. We got a loan from the bank and gave her the money. Two weeks later, she was a gone… and we never saw her again.’
The woman stopped talking and began to cry, sobbing softly into one of the paper tissues.
Ridpath looked across at Mrs Challinor. ‘One last question, Mrs Chen. How long was it from your daughter leaving home until you received the first phone call from England?’
The woman stopped crying for a second as she thought of the answer. ‘Three weeks, I think,’ the interpreter translated. ‘Hong Xi said the journey had been long and painful but she was happy to be back in Manchester with the man she knew. On her last call, she told us she had some wonderful news and she was coming home soon. We were so excited she was coming back. And then on the next call, she said she was in prison again. It was the last time I heard her voice.’ Another long pause. ‘I just want to take her home, away from this country, take her back to China. We don’t ever want to come back to this cold place again. My daughter, my poor, beautiful daughter…’ The last vestige of self-restraint vanished and the woman sobbed uncontrollably, her chest heaving and fat tears rolling down her cheeks.
Mrs Challinor stared at Ridpath and shook her head.
There would be no more questions.
Chapter 39
As soon as he could, Ridpath gave his condolences to the family and explained to Mrs Challinor he had to see the pathologist urgently.
He drove from the Coroner’s Court into the centre of Manchester, parking in the multistorey car park at Manchester Royal Infirmary before walking to the morgue close by.
Dr Schofield and a new doctor were waiting for him. As soon as he stepped into the room, the familiar tightness stretched across his chest.
‘Ah, Ridpath, glad you could make it. I’ve invited Dr Ahmed to join us as he is the interested party in this review of his first report.’
They were both sitting in front of the microscope looking at the monitor.
‘Isn’t that unusual?’
‘Not really, Detective Inspector Ridpath. I have the right to attend if my report is being challenged. And anyway, it will save you time if I am here to work with Dr Schofield. Dr Waterstone informed me of the preliminary conclusions and of my unfortunate omission.’
‘The marks on Wendy Chen’s chest.’
‘Precisely, detective.’
‘Anyway, Ridpath,’ Schofield interrupted, ‘I am delighted to tell you we are both in agreement and Dr Ahmed has accepted the new findings without reservation.’
Was that good news? Ridpath didn’t know. ‘And I have some news too, doctor. Her parents told me she was left-handed.’
Schofield glanced across at Dr Ahmed. ‘More evidence confirming our finding this wasn’t suicide,’ he said.
‘More evidence it wasn’t suicide?’
‘You do have a habit of repeating my sentences, Ridpath. I know what I said.’
Dr Schofield pressed a switch and an image appeared on the monitor next to the microscope. It had the appearance of an area of deep-brown, rocky moonscape surrounded by gradations of red earth gradually becoming pink at the edges.
‘You’re looking at a vertical cross-section of the flesh of the pectoral muscle I took from the dead woman’s chest beneath the puncture marks. You remember Vera made the slides for me.’
After five seconds, the image changed and the dark brown area became larger with the pink section diminishing.
‘The first section was just beneath the epidermis. We are now going through the fascia, the fibrous fat layer and deeper into pectoral muscle.’
The image changed again and the dark brown area became almost black in colour with the pink area vanishing.
‘It looks like it’s been roasted.’
‘Well, it has.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘As I’ve said, I’ve only seen this once before and it left exactly the same marks on the skin and beneath it.’
Ridpath stared at the image. ‘What is it?’
‘This woman was tasered shortly before her throat was cut.’
Chapter 40
‘What?’
‘It was a most interesting discovery, even though I do say so myself.’
Ridpath shook his head. ‘What did you just say?’
‘Do I have to repeat myself, Ridpath? She was tasered, a stun gun. When I saw the two marks above her breast, it reminded me of a post-mortem I did two years ago. A man had tasered his uncle as a
joke, sending 50,000 volts of electricity through the heart. The uncle didn’t survive. In our dead woman’s case, however, she was relatively healthy. The Taser merely stunned her. It was the cutting of the throat that killed her.’
The doctor sat back and nodded at his colleague.
‘What?’
‘Before you came, I did some research. I’m not finished yet but I’m certain it was a Taser. The weapon was invented by a man called Jack Cover, a NASA researcher, in America. Interestingly the name is a loose acronym of the title of the book Tom Swift and His Electric Rifle, written by Victor Appleton and featuring Cover’s childhood hero, Tom Swift.’
The doctor pressed his mouse and a picture of a Taser appeared on the monitor.
‘The Taser fires two small barbed darts intended to puncture the skin and attach to the target. The darts are connected to the main unit by thin insulated copper wire and deliver a modulated electric current. In medical terms, it works by disrupting voluntary control of muscles, causing “neuromuscular incapacitation.” The effects of a Taser may only be localized pain or strong involuntary long muscle contractions, based on the length of use and connectivity of the darts. The cartridge contains a pair of electrodes and propellant for a single shot and is replaced after each use. With a bit more time, I may even be able to work out which model of Taser was employed.’
‘But… how? Stun guns and Tasers are illegal in the UK.’
‘But still easy to obtain online from overseas. The man who tasered his uncle bought his in Germany.’
‘So let me get this clear. You are ruling out suicide?’
‘Detective Inspector Ridpath, it is impossible to cut your own throat if you are unconscious. I would have thought a detective of your intelligence would realise.’
Ridpath stood there open-mouthed. Wendy Chen was tasered? She was murdered? But how? Wilmslow IRC was one of the most secure facilities in Manchester.
‘Do you have any other questions, detective?’
Ridpath shook his head.
‘There is one other thing, DI Ridpath…’
There was more?
He walked over to one of the stainless steel tables on the right covered in a white cloth. He pulled the material down to reveal the naked body of Liang Xiao Wen. ‘I have yet to start the post-mortem on this man’s body but even I can recognise the marks when I see them.’
Ridpath checked out where he was pointing. Two small, parallel marks stood livid on the skin in the centre of the chest. ‘He was tasered too?’
‘Before his throat was cut.’
‘It’s the same man who committed both murders?’
‘Or woman, Inspector. Cutting the throat of an unconscious person requires no great strength, merely a sharp knife.’
The breath left Ridpath’s body. He had to talk to the coroner immediately.
Chapter 41
‘We have to cancel the inquest, Mrs Challinor.’
‘Not possible, Ridpath. You heard those parents – they’ve come all this way and they want to return with their daughter’s body.’
Ridpath and Mrs Challinor were in her room. The parents of Wendy Chen had left a long time ago with the interpreter. They were going to return tomorrow morning at the commencement of the inquest.
Ridpath took a deep breath. ‘But this is now a murder investigation, Coroner, and under the 2009 Act, you need to give the police 28 days to conclude their enquiries.’
‘You’re quoting the law at me, Ridpath? And the police have already had 28 days. They reached a conclusion of suicide, remember? And to educate you on the law, I only have to postpone the inquest if requested to do so by a senior police officer.’
‘The circumstances have changed. We now have Dr Schofield’s post-mortem report. She was tasered and her throat was cut.’
Mrs Challinor stared at him. ‘Tasered? A stun gun?’
‘According to Dr Schofield, and Dr Ahmed agrees with his findings. The evidence is clear. Also the throat could not have been self-inflicted by a left-handed person. It all means we have clear grounds for postponing the inquest.’
Mrs Challinor picked up the packet of paper tissues lying on her table left by Mrs Chen. After a long while, she stared directly at Ridpath. ‘That’s not going to happen. The inquest will go ahead as planned tomorrow morning and will be concluded by Friday evening at the latest.’
‘But Mrs Challinor…’
The coroner raised her voice. ‘We are not going to keep these people waiting for the body of their daughter any longer, Ridpath. We already have a pathologist’s report and we need to release the body.’
‘And if Dr Schofield’s findings are challenged in any subsequent criminal trial?’
‘We will overcome the challenge when we get to it. And Ridpath, a criminal trial could take place up to a year from now. Are you suggesting we keep Wendy Chen’s body in the morgue for all that time?’
Ridpath thought for a moment before answering quietly. ‘If necessary, Coroner.’
‘It’s the copper in you thinking, Ridpath. The copper who believes it’s more important for a criminal to be convicted than for a family to find closure. Do I have to remind you what our job is in the Coroner’s Office? It’s to be an advocate for the dead to safeguard the living. We don’t chase convictions. We don’t kowtow to authorities. We don’t worry about what the government thinks. We find out who died, how they died and when they died. That is all. The inquest into Wendy Chen will do exactly that and nothing more. Nobody stands up for these families, Ridpath, except us. We are their last, and only, line of defence.’
‘But what about doing what’s right, Mrs Challinor? Don’t these families also care about arresting the murderer of their daughter? They want to see justice too.’
‘But justice isn’t blind, it’s about people, what’s right for them, not what’s wrong.’ She ran her fingers through her long grey curls. ‘Why do you think I became a coroner, Ridpath?’
‘I don’t know.’
She stared into mid-air, an air of vulnerability encircling her for the first time. ‘After completing my law degree and articles, I joined one of the big law firms in London and was spending my life worrying about billable hours and charting the labyrinthine path to becoming a partner.’ She took a deep breath and continued speaking slowly and quietly. ‘Then, my mother was killed in a car accident. An inquest was ordered and I watched the coroner, a man called Harry Turner, probe and question the driver of the other car to destroy his lies and uncover the truth. The man had overtaken a lorry and couldn’t get back to his lane in time. My mother died in the head-on collision…’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs Challinor.’
She finally looked up at him. ‘But from that day, I knew what I wanted to do, Ridpath. I wanted to discover the truth for every family out there who can’t do it for themselves. Families like the Chens.’
There was a long silence between them, before Ridpath finally said, ‘But Coroner, we won’t be able to uncover the truth unless we understand not just how Wendy Chen died, but also why she died.’
‘And that’s why you will continue your investigation while the inquest is taking place.’
‘But it only gives me until the end of the inquest. Can I at least inform Clare Trent, get the resources of MIT involved?’
Mrs Challinor thought for a moment before nodding. ‘Do you want me to ring her?’
‘Please just tell her I’m coming but not the reason why. I hope she agrees to be involved, otherwise the murder inquiry will remain with the CID at Rowley and Central Manchester.’
‘One of whom has already failed in an investigation…’
‘That’s unfair, Mrs Challinor.’
The coroner frowned. ‘Perhaps it was. Brief her as soon as you can.’
‘Mrs Challinor, I would like to put on record my profound disagreement with your decision.’
‘Duly noted, Ridpath.’
‘Moreover, by continuing the inquest, you may be prejudicing
the outcome of a criminal investigation.’
Mrs Challinor’s hand slammed down on the table. ‘I have made my decision, Ridpath. The inquest will continue.’
There was a light tap on the door. Carol Oates popped her head round the door. ‘I thought I heard the sound of raised voices. Is everything OK, Mrs Challinor?’
‘Perfectly fine, Carol. We were just discussing tomorrow’s inquest,’ Mrs Challinor said tersely.
‘So it will be going ahead. I thought with the new post-mortem findings…’
How had she found out about those so quickly? thought Ridpath.
‘The inquest will start tomorrow at 10.00 a.m. as scheduled. Now, Ridpath, I believe you have an investigation needing your attention.’
Ridpath collected his notebook off the table and stepped past Carol Oates to exit the meeting room. As he did, he heard his voice being called by Mrs Challinor.
‘If you want to discover who killed Wendy Chen, you have until the end of the inquest, Ridpath. At that time, the jury will give its verdict on the case and I will release the body back to the parents.’
Chapter 42
Ridpath went outside and stood on the street. He was desperate for a cigarette. Giving into his cravings a couple of days ago had been a mistake.
Mrs Challinor was wrong. She had been affected by the testimony of the murdered girl’s mother. The inquest should be halted to give the police time to investigate properly, not the bogus going-through-the-motions ticking-the-bloody-boxes investigation completed by Ronald Barnes. The killer had already murdered one more person, Liang Xiao Wen. What if they killed somebody else?
He had to get Claire Trent onside. There was so much work to do, he couldn’t even scratch the surface on his own. Wendy Chen’s friend, the one she came to Manchester with, had to be found. The Chinese man in the BMW outside Rowley station had to be interviewed. The manager of the Removal Centre and the DCOs had to be screened, and he hadn’t even got round to meeting with Immigration Enforcement and finding out more about the reasons for Chen’s detention.
Where the Innocent Die Page 14