Sophia was already at her desk when Ridpath arrived at the coroner’s office. ‘How was your morning?’
‘Busy, too much work and too little time. Dealing with Turnbull always sets my teeth on edge.’
‘He’s the bald-headed one, right?’
‘The one and only.’
‘Struck me as a bit of a wanker the one time I met him.’
‘I love it when you are rude, Sophia, so unlike you.’
‘Wash my mouth out with soap.’
‘Did you check Andrea Briggs again, like I asked?’
‘Yep, still nothing. She stayed at school for a while until she was sixteen and after that, I can’t find anything on her. Nothing on the electoral register, no driving licence applications. Nada.’
Ridpath took off his jacket, setting it across the back of his chair, before sitting down opposite her. ‘Do you have an address for her?’
She checked through her notes. ‘Here it is, the school had it so it’s at least ten years out of date. She was living with her parents, Tom and Elizabeth, at 245 Havistock Road, Sale. I guess it’s not far from the Ryders.’ She continued reading her notes. ‘That’s strange, I’ve just noticed their surname. It’s Brooks, not Briggs. Why did they have a different surname?’
‘Did you call them?’
‘Yes, but there was no answer.’
Ridpath put his jacket back on.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Time to check out the address.’
‘But they were living there nearly ten years ago. They’ve probably moved, or passed away.’
‘They might still be there, and I have to check it out. I thought about it last night and it’s the piece of the case that’s been worrying me like a head full of nits. What happened to the other friend, Andrea Briggs?’
‘Do you ever sleep?’
‘Not on a case. I’m off to the house in Sale.’
‘Can I come?’
‘It would be good to have you there, Sophia.’
‘Your car or mine?’