Ridpath knocked on the door and entered without waiting for the usual invitation.
‘Ah, just the man I want to see.’ The coroner was packing her notes and files into a briefcase.
‘I need to talk to you, Mrs Challinor, something has come up.’
As Ridpath was closing the door, Mrs Challinor asked. ‘How is the Ryder investigation?’
‘That’s what I came to talk about.’
‘I’m afraid you’ll have to make it brief. It’s my grandson’s birthday today, and I’ve promised to dress up as his favourite character—’
‘Which is?’
‘Don’t laugh. The Wicked Witch of the West. For some obscure reason, he’s obsessed with The Wizard of Oz. He’s even made his own Tin Man costume.’
‘Kids. Can’t beat ’em, may as well join ’em.’
‘My philosophy exactly. And during lockdown we were lucky enough to be bubbled together.’ She stopped for a moment and smiled. ‘I can’t believe I said “bubbled”. What strange times we live in. Anyway, for the first time in years, my daughter and I actually talked about life, the universe and everything.’ She laughed to herself. ‘Of course, we concluded the answer probably was forty-two. Have there been developments in your investigation of Jane Ryder?’
‘A lot.’
‘A lot good, or a lot bad?’
‘Both.’
She sat back down. ‘Tell me all, Ridpath.’
‘I checked her missing person report and met the copper who interviewed the parents back in 2009. It seems little was done to follow up on her case, despite her only being sixteen when she disappeared.’
‘Why?’
He frowned. ‘It’s difficult to say. She was classified as medium risk because, apparently, she’d run away before—’
‘The parents never mentioned anything to me.’
‘And she was known to Social Services, but there are no attached interviews with any social workers. In fact, the only document in the file is the missing person report.’
‘Is that common?’
‘For a girl of her age, probably not. The reports may have been misfiled or gone missing. The policeman involved, Sergeant Dowell, told me he did interview the friend and talked to the social worker, but doesn’t remember her name.’
Mrs Challinor glanced at the family picture on her desk. ‘This may show police negligence at the time, but does it impact a finding of a presumption of death? Nobody has heard from her since 2009. Has she appeared on any passport applications, driving licence records, been arrested or even applied for a bank account?’
‘We couldn’t find any records of her doing any of those things. However, we did find these.’ He passed across copies of the photographs of Jane Ryder at the festival. ‘They are from the 2009 Mad Ferret Festival. She told her parents she was going with a friend to this festival, but it was a lie. I believe she met somebody else there.’
Mrs Challinor stared at them. ‘Is this her?’
‘We think so.’
‘Pretty girl.’
‘It’s obvious she either knew this man or met him at the festival.’ He pointed at the man standing next to Jane Ryder. ‘But even more important is this.’ His finger moved down to the backpack at her feet. ‘Exactly the same backpack was discovered at Daisy House Children’s Home. Inside were three embalmed human hands.’
The coroner looked more closely. ‘How can you be sure it’s the same backpack?’
‘We can’t. But we know only three were sold in the Manchester area. It’s a limited edition, manufactured by a skateboard company.’
Mrs Challinor put the photographs down. ‘So what are you saying, Ridpath?’
Ridpath pulled down his bottom lip. ‘I think the two investigations are linked, Mrs Challinor. I don’t know how yet, but they are. You may need to postpone the inquest.’
‘I can’t do it, Ridpath.’
‘But, Mrs Challinor, one of the hands we discovered in the backpack was a young girl’s. The pathologist thought she was around seventeen years old. What if the hand was Jane Ryder’s?’
‘It would prove conclusively she was dead.’
‘But if the cases are linked, this now becomes a murder inquiry, and Coroner’s Rules state all inquests should be postponed until the police have completed their enquiries.’
A small smile played on Mrs Challinor’s lips. ‘The training has been effective, Ridpath. You are now able to quote my own rules back at me. But you make the presumption that the backpack belonged to Jane Ryder and her embalmed hand is inside. If these are both true, then I can issue a presumption of death.’
‘And if they are not true?’
‘In the absence of any evidence to the contrary, her total lack of documentation for the last eleven years and the lack of any communication for the same period means I can still issue a certificate.’
‘Despite there being no body?’
‘Despite the lack of a body.’
Ridpath sighed loudly. ‘But, Coroner, I just need more time and I can give you the proof of her death.’
Mrs Challinor ran her fingers through her grey curls. ‘What if we proceed with the inquest next week, calling the parents, the friends and the police to give evidence? You can introduce the backpack and request more time to follow up. I will then postpone the inquest. But at least we will have begun the process and there will be no need to waste time instituting a full inquest later on. When you have finished your enquiries, as quickly as you possibly can, I can simply call a short inquest to grant the certificate. What do you think?’
Ridpath knew Mrs Challinor was trying her best to give him more time and still accommodate the needs of the family.
‘It’s the best I can do. This family needs closure and to put their financial affairs in order before Mrs Ryder dies.’
Ridpath finally nodded. ‘We still have a few more days. Perhaps we can solve it in that time.’
‘But you don’t think so, Ridpath?’
‘For some reason, I have a feeling this is only the beginning.’
The phone rang on the coroner’s desk. ‘Just a minute.’ She picked it up and began listening. ‘OK, I understand. It does change everything. Thank you for the call.’
She put the phone back on its cradle. ‘That was Mr Ryder. His wife has now been taken to St Jude’s Hospice in Cheadle Heath. The doctors have decided she doesn’t have long to live and she needs end-of-life care.’ A long pause as Mrs Challinor made up her mind. ‘We have to go ahead with the inquest next week, Ridpath, whatever happens.’