Doreen Hawkins was a big woman, both in stature and in presence.
Her secretary had sprayed Ridpath and Emily’s hands twice before they were allowed to enter the great woman’s presence.
‘She’s frightened of germs, washes her hands at least ten times a day. You don’t know what it’s been like during the pandemic.’
‘Difficult?’ asked Emily.
‘Bloody impossible, but I need the job.’ She knocked tentatively on the door. ‘The police to see you, Ms Hawkins.’
‘Ask them to wait.’
The secretary raised her eyes skyward. From inside came the sound of papers being shuffled and chairs moved. ‘Come,’ came the imperious order.
The secretary ushered them into the great woman’s presence. She was dismissed with a nonchalant wave of the hand.
Doreen Hawkins filled her office. Literally. But there was a nimbleness, a subtlety about her movements that belied her size, as if an athlete were trapped in the wrong body.
The office in question was the Kool Kidz Klubz, a children’s charity that helped support kids in need throughout Manchester and Salford.
‘Mrs Hawkins, I’d like to ask you a few questions, if I may?’
‘It’s Ms Hawkins, and what’s this about? I don’t have much time. In exactly ten minutes, I have a meeting with the lord lieutenant of Lancashire, Baron Shuttleworth. We may be extending our services into the county.’
Barons? He thought they went out with the Magna Carta? If the name was supposed to cow Ridpath, it failed miserably. ‘My name is DI Ridpath and this is DS Emily Parkinson. We’re looking into the disappearance of a young woman, Jane Ryder, in 2009.’
‘Actually, your name is Ridpath and your rank is detective inspector. Let us be precise, Detective. I dislike imprecision of language amongst my staff and I won’t tolerate it from anybody else.’
‘I’m sure you will tell Baron Shuttleworth exactly the same when you meet him.’
‘Which is in exactly nine minutes, so I would let me know what you want.’
Ridpath took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to be rushed or intimidated by this woman. ‘We believe you were working as missing person’s manager for GMP in 2009?’
‘I was employed in that capacity from 2000 to 2015, when I took early retirement.’
‘Do you recognise this missing person report?’
Ridpath passed across the file. Doreen Hawkins glanced at it and saw her name, tapping the paper. ‘That’s me. Must have been one of mine.’
‘Could you tell us about this case?’
Doreen Hawkins laughed. It sounded like the bark of a deer. ‘You must be joking.’
‘I’m deadly serious, Ms Hawkins.’
‘Do you know how many people are reported missing each year?’
‘Yes, but I am sure you are going to tell me anyway.’
Without taking a breath, she rattled off the statistics. ‘Somebody is reported as missing from home every ninety seconds. The latest figures for 2019 show there were one hundred and seventy-six thousand people reported missing in the UK. In Manchester alone there were over thirteen thousand reports of missing people.’
‘It’s a lot.’
‘But that’s not all. Of the hundred and seventy-six thousand, approximately seventy-five thousand were children. In Manchester, the figure was slightly less than five thousand children. These figures are probably under-reported. The truth is we haven’t a clue how many people or children vanish in the UK. At Kool Kidz Klubz, we work to target at-risk children, persuading them not to run away or, if they do, helping them to return home.’
‘I’m sure you are doing wonderful work, Ms Hawkins, but I have a specific investigation I am looking into. Jane Ryder, who disappeared on June 12, 2009. This is a photograph of her. Do you remember her case?’
Ridpath slid across the photo from the files. This time Doreen Hawkins picked it up and stared at it.
‘Sorry, I don’t remember her. It’s nearly twelve years ago, and as I said, close to five thousand of these pictures used to cross my desk each year when I worked for GMP.’
‘Could you read the report, see if it jogs your memory?’
Mrs Hawkins sighed, glanced at the clock and picked up the report, reading it properly. ‘Sorry, still nothing.’
‘Why was this girl only classified as medium risk when she was just sixteen years old?’
The woman frowned. ‘That is strange. Normally, she would be high risk, particularly if she came from a stable family background. There are four reasons why children go missing, DI Ridpath.’ She began counting them off on her ring-laden fingers. ‘First, conflict, abuse, neglect or simply problems at home. Second, they have been trafficked for sexual or physical exploitation. Third, they have spent time in care. Or, lastly, they have untreated mental health issues.’
Ridpath glanced across at Emily. She had been quiet throughout the interview. Finally she asked, ‘Which was it in Jane Ryder’s case?’
Ms Hawkins picked up the file and read it through again. ‘A couple of things are coming back to me. I remember the copper on this case being worried about the girl, wanting to make her high risk. That would mean more resource and effort would be put in to finding her. But the social worker was adamant the girl was in no trouble and wanted her to be placed in the low-risk category. She seemed to think there were problems at home and the girl had run off to live with her boyfriend. As she was over the age of consent, we agreed to put her in the medium-risk category.’
‘Social worker? There’s no social worker named in the report.’
Doreen Hawkins leafed through the papers. ‘There should be more documentation. I would have minuted any discussions and follow-up on the case.’
‘Nothing in the files.’
‘It doesn’t surprise me. Even when I left, the police computer systems were totally inadequate for what they needed to do.’
‘Can you remember the name of the social worker?’
Ms Hawkins thought for a long while. ‘Sorry, no name comes to me. I dealt with so many during my time with the police.’
Ridpath glanced at Emily and nodded. ‘OK, thank you for your time, Ms Hawkins. If you remember anything else, please call me at any time.’ He passed over his card.
She stared at it. ‘You work for the coroner. I thought you said you were a DI?’
‘I am. I’m seconded to work with the coroner. We are investigating a presumption of death on behalf of the parents. Do you think Jane Ryder has died?’
‘Has anybody heard anything since she disappeared?’
‘Nothing. No communication with her parents or anybody else, as far as we are aware.’
‘About two per cent of children are never found, DI Ridpath. It’s safe to say they are dead, either through an accident, a drug overdose or murder.’
‘Thank you once again, Ms Hawkins.’ Ridpath stood up and went to shake the woman’s hand, before turning it into a touching of elbows.
At the door, he turned back. ‘One more question, a thought, really. Why would Jane Ryder have had a social worker?’
‘I would have thought the answer was obvious, DI Ridpath.’
‘Not to me.’
‘From memory and looking at her form, it is obvious she had been in care. The Ryders were probably her adopted family.’