When Ridpath walked back into the coroner’s office, Sophia was already waiting for him, sitting on the edge of the desk, her whole body charged with excitement.
‘I checked up on the festivals. The Mad Ferret was held at Platt Fields Park in Manchester on June 12 and 13, 2009.’
‘You told me already. It was the same dates as the Isle of Wight Festival and Download at Donington Park.’
‘Now we know Jane left on Friday morning and was due back on Sunday evening as she had her last week at school.’
‘That’s what Mr Ryder told me.’
‘It seems too far to travel all the way to the Isle of Wight, doesn’t it? So for me that left Donington Park and Platt Fields, with the latter being the most likely.’
‘I’m with you…’
‘I checked on the Wayback Machine.’
‘What the hell’s that?’
‘It’s a website archiving old web pages no longer in use. I found some pages for the 2009 Mad Ferret Festival. Guess how much it cost for a ticket?’
Ridpath smiled. ‘It wouldn’t happen to be fifty-five quid, would it?’
‘Right first time. And there’s more. The website also has pictures taken on the first day of that year’s festival. I was scanning through them and saw this.’ She tapped her laptop and a picture came up. A blonde girl with her back to camera was dancing in the middle of the park with her arms raised. In the background, an out-of-focus band played on the stage.
Ridpath moved closer, squinting his eyes. ‘Is that who I think it is?’ he said tentatively.
‘The hair looks right, doesn’t it? And the clothes match the description given by Jane’s parents; a red and white striped T-shirt and jeans.’
‘But those clothes were pretty common for the period, especially at festivals.’
‘So I hunted through the rest of the pictures. There are fifty-eight, in total but most are of the band and the stage.’
‘Damn…’
‘Except two.’ She tapped the laptop again and another picture came up. This time, the picture was taken from the stage looking back into the crowd. ‘See the girl here. She’s sitting on somebody’s shoulders.’ Sophia zoomed in and the picture began to break up. ‘But we can see her face, and it matches Jane Ryder.’
Ridpath stared at the screen. ‘It certainly looks like her. Who’s she with?’
‘I can’t make out his face. The man in front is shielding him.’
‘I’ll ask the photo specialists at the lab, see what they can do.’
‘Hang on, there’s one more.’ Another picture appeared on the screen. ‘Here we see her from the side. The photographer, Gary Trueman, must have liked her. She’s talking to a man but he has his back to us and we can’t see his face.’
Ridpath leant in closer. ‘What’s that at her feet?’
Sophia moved closer. ‘It looks like her backpack.’
‘Or his?’
‘Didn’t the parents say she had taken a backpack with her?’
Ridpath moved even closer. ‘But what they didn’t say was that it looks like the same backpack in which we found three human hands. Get on to the photographer, see if he has any other shots of the festival he didn’t put on the website.’
‘Will do.’
‘Is the coroner in?’
‘I think so.’
‘I need to see her, now.’