Where the Innocent Die

by Where the Innocent Die (epub)

  ‘I wasn’t aware coroners “performed.”’

  ‘I’m using the term in the managerial sense rather than the theatrical. We have received numerous complaints about your performance in this inquest.’

  Mrs Challoner raised her eyebrows. ‘Numerous?’

  ‘Three to be exact.’

  ‘From where?’

  ‘I’m not at liberty to say. As you know, it is important that reports to the Chief Coroner’s Office remain confidential.’

  ‘So I am to be accused of not performing, but not allowed to know the identities of my accusers nor the specifics of the accusations?’

  ‘Please, Mrs Challoner, you must understand I am here to help you.’

  ‘In what way, Mr Scott?’

  The man smiled and licked his lips. ‘To help you improve your performance and because you have an inquest restarting in… eight minutes time, let me explain as briefly as I can.’

  He carried on before she could respond.

  ‘It is in nobody’s interest to pursue this case with a single-mindedness that has so far dogged the proceedings. The young woman was an illegal immigrant to this country. As you may or may not be aware, the government is currently in discussions with New Hampshire Detention Services to expand its portfolio of prisons and immigrant removals centres which could lead to immense savings to the Treasury. In addition, in these chaotic times, it is important we do not undermine respect in the work of our police force. Putting these two considerations at the top of your mind, I’m sure you’ll understand the importance of a good performance in court today.’

  Mrs Challoner took a deep breath before she spoke. ‘Mr Scott, a young woman was murdered in Wilmslow Immigration Removal Centre. New Hampshire since then seems to be more concerned with protecting their reputation and upholding their “Standard operating procedures” rather than any concern for the welfare of the charges in its care. As for the police, the initial investigation was shoddy at best, and incompetent at worse. Because of this inquest, GMP are now re-investigating the incident.’

  Anthony Scott stood, holding out his hand. Mrs Challoner ignored it. ‘Thank you for your time, Coroner, I believe you have an inquest to run. Please consider my advice today. It’s meant with the best of intentions.’

  He turned to leave her office. Just before he opened the door, Mrs Challoner said, ‘Mr Scott, who cares for those who have no voice?’

  He stopped for a moment and then opened the door to leave her office.

  Mrs Challoner stared at the clock. It was two minutes to ten.

  Chapter 77

  ‘My client has prepared a statement which I will read out.’

  They were back in the interview room and Emily had already started the recording tape.

  The solicitor coughed twice to clear his throat. ‘My client wishes to state for the record he knew the woman identified as Ms Chen. She worked at his club as a waitress on a part-time basis in July and early August 2020 for which she was paid in cash. He realises as the owner of the club it is illegal to employ people without the correct papers. Furthermore, he is aware it is his duty to report such people to the Immigration Enforcement Office. He deeply regrets not doing so and will ensure he complies fully with the law in the future.’

  Lam sat back in his chair with a suitably contrite look on his face.

  ‘So that’s the game, is it?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Inspector.’

  ‘Admit to a lesser charge, hoping we can’t prove anything else.’

  The solicitor smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Unfortunately, we have three murders and your client is a major suspect.’

  ‘I’m afraid you have nothing on him, Inspector. Except employing an illegal immigrant.’ Another smile. ‘A slap on the wrist if he’s lucky and a small fine if he’s not.’

  ‘We’ll see, Mr Miller.’ He turned back to Lam and focused on the man. ‘You told us before you didn’t know Mr Liang Xiao Wen?’

  The solicitor checked his watch. ‘My client has already answered the question, Inspector. Are we just going to go around in circles asking the same questions over and over again? It would be a terrible waste of police time and resources if we did.’

  ‘I’ll repeat the question. Did you know Liang Xiao Wen?’

  Lam smiled. ‘I’ll repeat my answer. No.’

  ‘Have you ever been to his apartment?’

  Lam yawned theatrically. ‘No.’

  ‘Please explain to me how your fingerprints were found in the living room and bedroom of his apartment?’

  ‘My client has already said he does not know Mr Liang.’

  ‘Fingerprints were found at the scene. We put them through IDENT1, the police fingerprint database, and your name came up, Mr Lam. A positive match.’

  ‘Where’s your proof, detective?’ said the solicitor.

  ‘We’ll be able to show you the printout, Mr Miller, in about…’ Ridpath checked his watch, ‘five minutes. it’s just being faxed over from the crime lab.’

  ‘I… I…’

  Ridpath leant in closer to the suspect and spoke softly, almost whispering. ‘You just said you didn’t know him nor had you ever been in his house, yet your fingerprints have been found at a murder scene? We’ll take our time but eventually we’ll tie you to the other murders.’ A long pause. ‘You’re going to spend the rest of your life inside, Mr Lam. I’ll enjoy throwing away the key.’

  ‘I didn’t kill nobody, it was nothing to do with me. Im not a murderer.’

  ‘Prove it,’ said Ridpath.

  ‘It is not up to my client to prove he is innocent, Inspector, it is for you to prove his guilt.’

  Lam glanced across at his solicitor and then at Ridpath. His head went down and he whispered, ‘I’ll tell you what I know.’

  The solicitor grabbed his arm. ‘Shut up, you fool.’

  ‘Listen, you don’t represent me, you’re paid by the syndicate. I’m not going down for life for something I didn’t do.’ He turned back to Ridpath. ‘I’ll tell you everything I know, but not while he’s here.’ He pointed to the solicitor.

  Chapter 78

  Mrs Challoner entered the courtroom and stared out over the sea of faces looking up at her.

  The family was sat on the left with their interpreter. The barrister for New Hampshire Detention Services was in the centre with his solicitor. Anthony Scott was sat next to Archibald Sutton on the right. Further across, the seven members of the jury were already in their positions and waiting.

  In the front row were the two remaining witnesses, Stuart Collins and DS Ronald Barnes, with the smirking face of Lucy Bagnall and David Carlton next to them.

  The rest of the courtroom was packed with spectators. This inquest had obviously gained a big following through the press reports.

  As she sat, the courtroom fell quiet and the journalists’ pens hung over their notebooks.

  ‘Ladies and gentleman,’ Mrs Challoner began, ‘I have the sad task of informing you of the death of one of the witnesses at this inquest. Mr Tony Osborne was murdered yesterday.’

  A buzz went around the court, gradually increasing in volume.

  Mrs Challoner raised her voice. ‘There have been some calls to suggest I abandon this inquest. But I would like to remind everybody, and particularly the jury, our hearing is into the death of Ms Wendy Chen in Wilmslow Immigration Removal Centre. It is not to find out who killed her, that is a job for the police, but to discover how, when and where she died in order to make sure it never happens again. We will now begin the second day of our inquest. Ms Oldfield, please call the first witness. A Mr Stuart Collins.’

  Chapter 79

  ‘You know I’m a dead man?’

  ‘We can put you in a witness protection scheme, Mr Lam, but only if you tell us everything you know.’

  Lam Tai Kong snorted. ‘They’ll still find me, wherever I am.’

  The solicitor had left the room but the tape was still runni
ng.

  ‘We can’t help you if you don’t help us,’ said Emily Parkinson.

  Lam Tai Kong bit his bottom lip. ‘I had nothing to do with any murders…’

  ‘Convince us.’

  ‘When Xiao Wen was being murdered, I was at Europa Industrial Estate…’

  ‘The one close to Cheadle Heath Police Station?’

  Lam nodded.

  ‘For the tape, the witness has just agreed,’ interrupted Emily Parkinson.

  ‘What were you doing there?’

  ‘We’d just brought in a container of Vietnamese and we were processing them. The boys and men to work in the cannabis farms, while the women work in our massage or nail parlours.’

  ‘These people were trafficked into this country?’

  ‘Yes, we brought them in via Folkestone on Monday.’

  ‘And who is we?’

  ‘Myself, Liang and two Albanians, I don’t know their names. One was the driver of the lorry from Zeebrugge.’

  ‘He’s still in Manchester?’

  ‘No, he left as soon as we finished unloading the cargo.’

  ‘Cargo?’

  ‘The Vietnamese.’

  Ridpath stared at Lam. ‘We need more details, Mr Lam. How often do you bring illegal immigrants into this country?’

  ‘I don’t bring them in, the Albanians import them. We just buy the debt from them and put the people to work for us.’

  ‘Explain how it works to me.’

  Lam became animated as if detailing a business plan rather than illegal trafficking. ‘Once a month, a lorry load is delivered into Manchester from Vietnam or China. We don’t deal in Romanians or Africans.’

  ‘How many people?’

  ‘Usually it’s 40, but it can be a few more.’

  ‘What happens then?’

  ‘We buy the debt from the Albanians…’

  ‘Sorry, I don’t understand,’ interrupted Parkinson.

  ‘Most of these people don’t pay up front. They are loaned the money to come here.’

  ‘How much does it cost?’

  ‘Around 30,000 pounds. We buy the debt from the Albanians for 15 grand and we put them to work in the clubs, massage parlours and nail shops until they pay off their debt.’

  ‘Forty times 30,000 pounds. That’s over one million quid.’

  ‘And don’t forget, they are working for us too,’ Lam said proudly.

  ‘Did Wendy Chen come in one of the containers?’

  Lam nodded. ‘She was smart, that one, so we put her to work in the club…’

  ‘Golden Elephant?’

  ‘Where else?’

  ‘Was she with her friend, Yang May Feng?’

  ‘Yeah, you could never split those two up.’

  ‘Where is Yang May Feng now?’

  Lam shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know her address, but she was at the club a couple of nights ago, working. She left with someone, a businessman from Beijing. I’m sure he’ll pay her well.’

  ‘So they were both working as prostitutes for you?’

  ‘No, only Yang. Wendy Chen didn’t want to do any extras.’

  ‘Extras?’

  ‘Sleep with the customers.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She had a boyfriend, didn’t she?’

  ‘Did you ever meet him?’

  ‘Nah, she always talked about him, though, how as soon as she had paid us off, they were going to get married and live together.’

  ‘Why didn’t the boyfriend pay her debt?’

  ‘I dunno. My own guess: he was just playing her along. He looked married to me.’

  ‘You saw him?’

  ‘A couple of times. I watched as he picked Wendy up from the club. He didn’t know I saw him.’

  ‘Could you provide a description?’

  ‘I dunno. White, older, not much hair. All you white guys look the same to me anyway.’

  ‘See if you can get a few more details for a description, Emily. I’ll be back in a minute.’

  ‘DI Ridpath is leaving the room.’

  Outside, Ridpath stopped for a moment to gather his thoughts before going into the viewing room.

  Claire Trent stood as soon as he entered. ‘Well done, Ridpath, we’ve got him on trafficking charges and the importation of illegal immigrants into the UK, not to mention living off immoral earnings and all the rest. He’s looking at a five stretch minimum. Paul Dawson will be dead chuffed.’

  ‘But he’s not our killer, boss.’

  ‘No, you’re right, we need to go through all the evidence we’ve got. There must be something we’re missing.’

  ‘Will he get witness protection?’

  ‘A decision far higher than my pay grade and yours, Ridpath.’

  ‘What if he asks for it?’

  ‘Keep telling him it’s available and keep him talking. I want to get details of how the traffickers work.’

  Despite the result on Lam Tai Kong, Ridpath felt strangely deflated. They were back to square one again. Who had killed Wendy Chen, Liang Xiao Wen and Tony Osborne? And if it wasn’t to cover up the importation of illegal immigrants, why?

  ‘We’re going to have to start again at the beginning on the murders, boss. We’ve gone wrong somewhere.’

  ‘It happens, Ridpath. Let’s finish interviewing this man, get a full statement from him and I’ll get onto CPS and Paul Dawson. I’m sure he’ll want to find out more about the Albanians. Think about it, Ridpath, if they are delivering a lorry a month to Manchester, what about London? Or Birmingham? Or Leeds? Are they getting people to those cities too?’

  ‘You heard him, it’s big business, guv’nor, the people are just another cargo. I’ll go back in and finish the statement. Mrs Challoner will be disappointed. The inquest finishes today and we have nothing new for her.’

  ‘The coroner does her work and we do ours, Ridpath. Finish the statement.’

  ‘Yes, boss.’

  He turned to leave, passing the bulletin board and the poster of Manchester’s most wanted criminals, their faces still as ugly as before.

  An idea crept its way into Ridpath’s head. ‘I wonder if it would work?’ he said out loud.

  ‘If what would work?’ asked Claire Trent.

  But Ridpath was already out the door and racing down the corridor.

  Chapter 80

  ‘Mr Collins, you told the police you were in London at the time of Wendy Chen’s murder, didn’t you?’

  The man leant forward to the microphone. ‘I did.’

  ‘What were you doing there?’

  ‘I was at a meeting.’

  ‘When did you leave for London?’

  ‘On the Friday. I thought I would make a weekend of it.’

  ‘So you weren’t around on the morning of August 20th?’

  ‘No.’

  Mrs Challoner could feel how weak this line of questioning was. In the absence of any other information, she decided to change the subject. ‘But you have heard a knife was found next to Ms Chen’s body?’

  ‘That’s correct. The knife wasn’t from the Centre.’

  ‘How did it get it into Ms Chen’s room?’

  ‘I have no idea. Either she brought it in or somebody else did. Since the incident, we have tightened our processes for searching detainees on their entry into the Centre.’

  ‘A bit like closing the stable door after the horse has bolted, Mr Collins?’

  Stride was on his feet, glancing across at Anthony Scott. ‘I object, Coroner. The aside was a spurious commentary on my client’s evidence. Frankly, it continues your disturbing management of this inquest.’ Another glance across at both the jury and Scott. ‘An inquest whose conduct has come under the scrutiny of the Chief Coroner.’

  ‘Mr Stride, if you do not like my conduct of this inquest, there are channels for you to complain, if you haven’t already. However, this inquest is not one of those channels. If you would like to sit, Mr Stride, I will continue my questioning of your client.’

&nbs
p; ‘But—’

  ‘Sit down, Mr Stride.’

  The barrister returned to his seat, but the coroner knew his complaint was for one person. The man wearing the pinstripe suit sat on the table on the left.

  She decided to press on with the questions. ‘There are how many CCTV cameras in the Centre?’

  ‘Off the top of my mind, 36.’

  ‘And how many were inoperative on the night of Ms Chen’s death?’

  ‘Six, I believe.’

  ‘Is this normal?’

  ‘It’s not normal, but it does happen. New Hampshire Detention Services operates some of the most advanced security and surveillance systems in the country. Unfortunately, it is inevitable some elements of the machinery are not operative at any given moment.’

  ‘But six cameras? Out of 36?’

  ‘As I said, New Hampshire operates some of the most sophisticated…’

  ‘I think we heard you the first time, Mr Collins. Does New Hampshire Detention Services spend enough time maintaining its equipment?’

  ‘We have a budget for maintenance, but…’

  ‘I asked you whether it spends enough on maintenance.’

  Stuart Collins coughed. ‘You can never spend enough on maintenance, particularly when the detainees of the centres actively disable the cameras.’

  ‘So it’s the detainees fault the cameras weren’t working?’

  ‘I didn’t say that. I said you can never ensure all cameras in any of the centres are all working, all of the time.’

  The coroner scanned her notes. ‘You only had two guards on duty the night of August 19th and the morning of the 20th. Do you think that is enough?’

  ‘Our staffing falls within the guidelines set by the government in its statutory rules governing short term removal centres.’

  ‘Ah yes, the statutory rules.’ Mrs Challoner held a sheaf of papers aloft. ‘I re-read these last night, and yet I could find no guidelines on staffing rates within them.’

  For the first time, Collins appeared flustered. ‘That’s correct, the government lays down no staffing numbers for short term removal centres. It is up to us what we consider an effective number of staff.’