by M J Lee
As the realisation of what he had just said dawned on Claire Trent’s face, Ridpath’s mobile phone beeped with a new message.
Please come to Court #1 in the Stockfield Coroner’s Court at 10 a.m. It is important that you are there on time. Margaret Challinor.
Strange, why was the coroner messaging him? He looked at the message again. Even stranger, it seemed to be a group invitation. Mrs Challinor never contacted people in this way.
‘What is it?’
‘I’ve just received a message from Mrs Challinor, she wants me to go to Stockfield.’
Turnbull clicked his tongue loudly. ‘You have work to do here, Ridpath. MIT is in the middle of the most important investigation it has ever undertaken and you want to waltz over to the Coroner’s Office the minute she calls you? I think you need to get your priorities in order.’
Ignoring his DCI, he pressed the speed dial button to call Mrs Challinor.
No answer.
He tried again.
Still no answer.
Maybe she was already in court, preparing for a case. He rang Sophia, knowing she would already be sitting at her desk, if for no other reason than her mother was still trying to marry her off.
No answer again.
‘Nobody is answering their phone, I need to go over there, boss.’
‘You think she’s in trouble?’ asked Claire Trent.
‘I don’t know, but the name of the wood where the judge was found worries me.’
‘Go and check it out.’
He moved to leave the office.
‘I don’t believe it, you’re letting him wander off to see the coroner, just when we need everyone here.’
‘We have enough warm bodies, Paul.’ She turned back to Ridpath. ‘It doesn’t smell right to me either. Go and check it out.’
‘I’m coming with you,’ shouted Emily Parkinson.
Claire Trent nodded. The DS ran to join him.
The last thing Ridpath heard as he ran out of the door was Claire Trent on the phone. ‘I need a Tactical Unit at the Coroner’s Court in Stockfield, NOW.’
Chapter 102
In the car racing to Stockfield past the Etihad Stadium, the blues and twos screaming above their heads, Emily Parkinson leant into him and shouted, ‘I hope you’re right, Ridpath.’
‘I hope I’m wrong.’
The time on the car’s dashboard said 9.35. In this traffic, he would have to hurry to get to the coroner before ten a.m.
He swung the car off the A6010 to avoid the grid lock of the junction at Belle Vue, taking a short cut to Hyde Road and pulling across the flow of the traffic to race down Mount Road.
‘You broke at least fifteen traffic laws back there.’
‘You going to book me?’
‘Not this time.’
‘Can you call Sophia again? See if she’s answering.’
Using Ridpath’s phone, Parkinson pressed redial. The phone rang and rang until a voice machine cut in.
‘No answer.’
‘Shit.’
Despite taking a short cut, Ridpath still had a wall of red lights to pass before he could get to Stockfield, each one decided it would turn red just as he approached. As cars pulled to the side, he inched through the traffic flow.
At one red light, one stupid driver decided he had right of way and narrowly missed the oncoming police car.
‘Bloody idiot,’ shouted Ridpath through the windscreen.
Emily Parkinson called Sophia again.
Still no answer.
Ridpath switched off the sirens a mile away from the Coroner’s Court. It was exactly ten a.m. He screeched to a halt, parking on a double yellow line, and jumped out of the car, racing up the steps.
The reception area was empty. Normally, by this time of the day, Jenny would have taken up position to repel any visitors.
Ridpath walked past the desk and down the corridor to his office. ‘Mrs Challinor,’ he shouted, ‘Sophia…’
There was an eerie silence about the place as if it had been abandoned suddenly like the Marie Celeste. ‘Mrs Challinor,’ he shouted again.
Silence.
His office was empty but Sophia’s blue knapsack was slung across the back of her chair and her computer was on.
‘Where is everybody?’ asked Emily.
He walked through to the Coroner’s Office without answering. For the first time he could ever remember, Mrs Challinor wasn’t sitting behind her desk.
His phone rang.
‘Mrs Challinor, we’ve been looking for you, where are you?’
‘Hi, Tom. I’m in court no. 1 with the others, can you come here now, I have something important to show you.’
‘But…’
‘Come here, Tom, now if you can, it’s important.’
‘I’m in the office. I’ll be there in three minutes.’
‘Great, I’ll see you soon.’
The phone went silent.
Tom? Mrs Challinor never called him Tom.
Chapter 103
Alarm bells were going off in Ridpath’s head.
He’d never heard such tension, such pleading in Mrs Challinor’s voice. Normally she simply told him to come to her office in a professional, almost abrupt way.
And why had she called him Tom twice? He hated it when people used his first name. The only person who did was his mother and she called him Thomas, never Tom.
He looked at Emily Parkinson, who was already heading down the corridor to walk across to court no. 1.
‘Hang on,’ he shouted after her.
‘Mrs Challinor, doesn’t she want us to meet her?’
‘But something’s not right. Don’t ask me what but it doesn’t feel right.’
He stood there for a moment, his eyes darting left to right. Was Mrs Challinor in trouble? Or was he completely over-reacting and it was just a normal meeting? A police tactical unit was heading to the Court right now. Was it a false alarm?
If it was, Turnbull would have him for breakfast. And for lunch.
Had he just said goodbye to his career?
But why had she called him Tom? And what about the place the judge was found, Coroner’s Wood. Was that just a coincidence?
As Claire Trent had said, it just didn’t smell right.
He remembered something Mrs Challinor had told him. He ran down the corridor, past Jenny’s desk.
‘Where are you going? What’s happening?’ Emily Parkinson shouted at him.
Where was it? It should be somewhere around here. He wrenched open one door. Nothing but brushes, mops and wooden shelves stacked with council approved cleaning liquids.
He ran to the next door and pulled it open.
‘What are you looking for?’ asked DS Parkinson joining him.
He was staring in front of a small cupboard. On each shelf was mounted CCTV equipment, with two small monitors at the top. On one of the monitors, a man was standing in front of a group of people seated in the jury box.
The man was wearing a wolf mask.
‘What are we going to do, Ridpath?’ asked Emily staring at the monitor.
Chapter 104
Two minutes later Ridpath was walking up the steps to the main entrance to court no. 1 on his own. He took his time, making sure people could hear him.
At the top of the stairs, the large double doors were closed. He halted for a moment in front of them.
He hoped this was going to work. He had briefed Parkinson on what she had to do.
Now it was his turn.
One thing they needed above everything was time.
He took a deep breath and pushed the doors open.
‘Come in, Ridpath.’
The man wearing a wolf mask was standing in front of the witness stand, brandishing a gun in one hand and a mobile phone in the other.
Opposite him, in the jury box, Mrs Challinor sat with Jenny Oldfield, Sophia, an older man Ridpath didn’t recognise and John Gorman.
A little cough. ‘You’ve finally arri
ved. I’d almost given up waiting for you. But of course, we couldn’t start until our star witness arrived, could we?’
Ridpath glanced behind him as the door shut noisily.
‘And don’t think about running. If you do, I will quite happily shoot Mrs Challinor first, followed by former Chief Superintendent Gorman. The others I’ll save for dessert.’
He pointed the gun directly at Mrs Challinor. She didn’t flinch, staring straight back at him.
Another nervous cough. ‘Cat got your tongue, or was it a wolf? Now come in and put these on. I’m sure you know how they work.’
He reached down and threw a pair of handcuffs to Ridpath.
‘You can join the others in the jury box, fastening one end of the handcuffs to the rail as they have done.’
Ridpath noticed for the first time Mrs Challinor and the others all had their arms resting on the jury rail.
As he walked towards the jury box Mrs Challinor said, ‘I’m sorry, Ridpath, he forced me to call you.’
‘How touching. An apology at a time like this.’
A large backpack was resting next to the jury box. As he got closer, Ridpath recognised the unmistakable smell of putty.
‘I see you’ve noticed the elephant in the room, otherwise known as a rather large bomb. Enough to wreck this place and everyone in it quite comfortably. Or I should say uncomfortably.’ He gestured for Ridpath to put on the handcuffs.
‘You’re not going to get away with this Tony.’
‘Ah, I see you finally worked out who I am, Ridpath. I guess you won’t mind if I take this off. It’s awfully hot inside.’
He removed the mask letting it fall to the floor.
‘That’s better. We thought the theatrics of the mask worked well for the internet audience, didn’t you? Before I came out this morning, I noticed new memes popping up everywhere. While fame was never our intention, it can’t but help the cause.’
Ridpath risked a glance up to the door leading from the courtroom to the coroner’s ante-room but hadn’t seen any movement. The coroner’s desk was raised above the rest of the court so he couldn’t see all of the door, just the top.
Where were they? Where was Claire Trent?
He focussed back on Tony Seagram. ‘What was the cause? To kill innocent people?’
A cough and the man began to talk. It was as if he’d been waiting to tell them the story for his whole life. ‘That was the point, Ridpath, have you not been listening? None of these people were innocent. None of the people here are innocent. They were all complicit in the cover-up of my sister’s death and the jailing of an innocent man, James Dalbey.’
Ridpath noticed a slight movement from the door behind the coroner’s desk. Was it opening?
‘You keep saying “we” and “our”. Was Dalbey involved in this?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know? Perhaps I am using the royal we? As in we only have to press the send signal on this phone and the C4 in the backpack will blow you all to bits.’ He held up the phone for all to see.
Ridpath glance up again. He couldn’t see if anybody was there.
‘Why don’t you let us go, Tony? You’ve made your point now. The judicial system failed your sister and James Dalbey.’ Mrs Challinor was speaking. Had she seen the door open?
‘Ever the voice of reason, Coroner. But I don’t think I’ll let you go. See in this court I have the people who caused my sister and James the most pain. We all know about John Gorman and his steadfast approach to upholding the rule of law. Pity that didn’t extend to my sister.’
Ridpath looked across at his ex-boss. The man was as white as a sheet, struggling for breath.
‘Next to him, we have the Crown Prosecution Service’s solicitor, David Grenham. I’m so glad you received my email invitation to be here.’
‘You said the coroner wanted to speak to me.’
‘She does, but not yet. It was shameful of you to withhold evidence from the defence Mr Grenham. Evidence that would have cleared James.’
‘I…I…’
In the background, Ridpath could hear the sound of sirens coming closer. Tony Seagram had noticed them too. ‘Looks like the cavalry are on their way. Did you call them, Ridpath or was it Emily Parkinson?’ He looked at his watch. ‘Shame they will arrive too late.’
Ridpath noticed a movement behind the coroner’s desk. Who was there?
‘And then there’s the coroner, Mrs Challinor. So keen to do the right thing, she managed to trick Harold Lardner into confessing in this very court. But justice doesn’t end here, Coroner, what about the victims? What about their families? My father died just after we re-buried Alice. His heart was broken, but you, and all the rest of you, had already moved onto your next case. The justice system grinds on, grinding its victims into dust behind it.’
Another movement behind the coroner’s desk.
‘You can come out now, whoever you are?’
No answer.
‘If you don’t come out now, I will shoot Ridpath dead in five seconds.’
The barrel of the gun was levelled at Ridpath’s heart.
‘One.’
‘Two.’
‘Three.’
‘Four.’
Tony Seagram cocked the trigger of the revolver, a loud metallic click echoed around the courtroom.
Ridpath could see the hard metal ring hanging down from the revolver’s grip. Was this a military gun?
‘Fi…’
Emily Parkinson jumped up from behind the coroner’s desk. ‘Don’t shoot, don’t shoot.’
‘Detective Sergeant Parkinson, I wondered where you were. You’re going to have to stop following Ridpath round like a love-sick puppy. But if you would care to join him in the jury box, we will bring these proceedings to a conclusion.’
Slowly, Emily Parkinson descended the stairs.
‘Put these on.’ Seagram threw her another pair of handcuffs.
‘Sorry, Ridpath, I thought I should help.’
Outside the window, the sirens were louder now, cars screeching to a halt, the sound of slamming doors.
‘Give yourself up. You’re not going to get away, Tony.’
‘Right on time, the cavalry have arrived, Ridpath. Exactly as James said they would in the plan.’ He held up the mobile phone. ‘It’s now time for the final act.’
Chapter 105
‘Trev, get your sharpshooters in position on the surrounding buildings. I want eyes on the interior of the building. Who’s inside?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
‘Harry, check if the other buildings in the complex are clear. Move everybody out. And find the CCTV that Emily told us about. Where is she anyway?’
‘I’ll find her, boss.’ He ran off towards the administration buildings.
‘Paul, make sure we have a cordon tight around here. I want those people—’ she pointed to a group of reporters and television camera trucks who had followed their cars from HQ, ‘—pushed back at least one hundred metres.’
‘It means closing the main road through the town.’
‘Do it, but get onto Traffic, divert cars away from this area.’
‘Operation Centre will be here,’ she pointed back to the cafe behind her, ‘until further notice.’
He ran to marshal the coppers near their cars.
Her phone rang. She looked at the name and mouthed a silent swear word. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said answering it. ‘Yes sir, doing it at the moment. No, no there’s no need for the assistant chief constable to take charge, everything is under control.’
A long pause as she walked slowly away, nodding her head at the voice on the other end of her phone. ‘Arsehole,’ she said to the receiver after ending the call.
She looked at the detectives and uniforms surrounding her. ‘Well, lads, it’s all down to us. We’d better not fuck this up, or else we’ll all be working in Cheetham Hill for the rest of our careers. Alan, they’re sending a hostage negotiator to us, he’ll arrive in twenty minutes, make sure he h
as everything he needs.’
‘Yes, boss.’
Sergeant Trevor Hall, the head of the Armed Tactical Unit, strode calmly back to the position. ‘We’re in place overlooking the court now. My men are trying to see what’s happening inside.’
‘I can help,’ said Harry Makepeace, running to join them. ‘We’ve found the CCTV room for the court. We’ve got live pictures from inside.’
‘Show me, Harry.’ Claire Trent picked up an Airwave. ‘Keep in touch, Trev, let me know exactly what your men can see.’
They ran off towards the administration building, running up a few steps and into reception. ‘It’s this way, boss.’
Harry Makepeace veered off to the left down a corridor. A couple of constables were standing outside what looked like a broom cupboard. They moved back respectfully as they saw Claire Trent.
Inside the broom cupboard was a rack of recording equipment with two small monitors sitting on top. The monitor on the left was marked ‘Court Number One’. On it, in black and white, Claire Trent could see a wide-angled shot of the inside of the court.
‘They must use it to check the proceedings. There is sound somewhere but we can’t find how to activate it,’ said Harry Makepeace staring at the dials on one of the black boxes.
‘Don’t touch it, I don’t want to lose the feed.’
She looked on as a man was standing in front of the jury box, obviously haranguing the people sat inside. She could see Ridpath, Margaret Challinor, John Gorman and Emily Parkinson in the box, plus three other people she didn’t recognise. One of them she guessed was Sophia Rahman, Ridpath’s assistant at the Coroner’s Court. Gorman seemed to be sitting in a slumped position. Had Seagram shot him? She pointed towards the screen. ‘What’s that?’
Harry leant in to take a closer look. ‘I dunno. Looks like a rucksack or a backpack.’ He leant in even closer. ‘It must be Tony Seagram standing at the front. He’s got something in his hand.’
On screen, they could see Seagram had stopped speaking and was now holding up a mobile phone.
‘Shit,’ said Harry, ‘does the backpack have more C4?’
As Claire Trent was about to reply, her Airwave squawked. ‘Hall to Commander. Over.’
