“Don’t worry, boss. We’ll get there in time,” Barton assured him.
The traffic situation, already bad, was exacerbated by roadworks, which effectively narrowed the town-bound stretch down to one lane for a distance of about two hundred yards between the Shell garage and Mile End tube station.
Barton rolled his eyes. “Roadworks! I might’ve known.”
Jack was horrified. “You mean you didn’t?”
“They weren’t here two days ago,” Barton said, defensively.
Tyler didn’t speak. He didn’t have to. His face said it all.
“We’ll be alright once we clear the next set of lights,” Barton promised, hoping that he was right. Fed into a bottleneck, they crawled through the roadworks at a snail’s pace. After what seemed like an age, they finally turned left into Burdett Road, where traffic was flowing normally. Tyler’s watch said ten minutes before ten.
Five minutes later, they were in Poplar High Street, looking for the Coroners Court. They found it at the junction with Cottage Street, an old brick building that was much smaller than Tyler had expected. The double wooden doors at the front were closed. A square sign hung from the brickwork to the left of the entrance, and was painted a grubby yellow.
It read: ‘Entrance to Public mortuary’.
An arrow underneath pointed to a narrow, cobbled alley at the side of the building. They drew level, but it only appeared wide enough to take one car.
“Is that it?” Jack asked, jerking his thumb at the building, which reminding him of a miniature church, but without the charm.
“That’s it,” Barton confirmed.
“Park it around the back, if you can. I’ll meet you inside,” Tyler said, climbing out.
A large van with the legend ‘BBC Outside Broadcasting Unit’ was parked in Simpson Road, almost opposite the court. An Independent Television News van sat right behind it.
The two crews had set their equipment up to cover the entrance in a pincer movement. He heard his name called out as he approached, but he didn’t turn around. It would only anger Holland if he appeared on television again.
Tyler had never given evidence here before and, as he entered the shoddy building, he was surprised to see just how run down and cramped it was. Most people are surprised to discover that the Coroners Court is the most powerful court in the land. A summons to appear before it takes precedence over all others, even the powerful and prestigious Central Criminal Court at Old Bailey. Considering its status within the legal system, he found his current surroundings rather underwhelming. As his eyes acclimatised to the dark reception area, he spotted Kelly Flowers sitting, alone, on a wooden bench beside the courtroom entrance. Tyler walked over, wondering if Mrs Phillips had changed her mind about attending. He would understand if she had.
Sitting down beside Kelly, Jack leaned close enough to speak without fear of being overheard, aware that in these places even the slightest sound was amplified considerably. “Morning, Kelly. How long have you been here?”
“About fifteen minutes, sir. Traffic was much heavier than I’d expected.”
“Where’s Mrs Phillips?” he asked, scanning the foyer for someone who fitted the mental picture he had of her. Just then, Tim Barton came in. He spotted Tyler and made a beeline for him.
“She’ll be back soon. She’s just taken her granddaughter to the toilet.” Kelly saw his eyes widen at that. Tyler obviously hadn’t expected the little girl to be here. Well, she hadn’t expected it herself, if the truth were known. “I’m sorry, sir, we had to bring little April with us. Rita hasn’t got anyone she can leave her with.”
“I appreciate that, Kelly,” Jack said irritably, “but this is not the place for a kid.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll stay out here with her while you and Tim take Rita inside.” Kelly had taken quite a shine to the cute little girl dressed in her Sunday best.
“There’s nothing else we can do, I suppose. I should have thought to ask her about the kid when we spoke on the phone.”
Kelly nodded over Jack’s shoulder. “Heads up, here they come,” she warned. He stood up and turned to greet them. Rita Phillips was pretty much the way he’d imagined her to be. She was in her late sixties, and slightly underweight for her bone size, but that was probably a result of the stress Tracey had put her through these last few years. Her collar-length grey hair still had faint traces of blonde in it, and the pale blue eyes, which looked him up and down, were alert, worldly wise and full of character. Rita wore a three-quarter length camel hair coat over a conservatively cut blue dress with a crew neck. It was the kind of outfit that had probably looked old-fashioned even when it was brand new. Her brightly polished shoes appeared well worn and comfortable. Head up, back straight, chin jutted out defiantly; everything about her indicated that she was a woman who conducted herself with pride and dignity.
Jack had a feeling that he would like her immensely.
The little girl, trailing shyly behind her grandmother, seemed reluctant to approach them. She held the old woman’s hand tightly and stood directly behind her, cautiously peering around the side of Rita’s legs when she thought no one was looking.
He had a sneaking suspicion that she was probably far more uncomfortable with him and Barton than she was with the surroundings. Jack asked himself how many strange men, how many new ‘uncles’ or ‘friends’ she been forced to meet in her brief life? He wondered if they had been kind, cruel or simply indifferent towards her. He hoped that it was the former.
The unassuming innocence in those big blue eyes had a strange impact on him and he felt a lump forming in his throat as he looked down at her. Tyler didn’t consider himself to be a sentimental man, but he was touched by the sweet gentleness that seemed to radiate from little April Phillips. Somehow, she seemed wise beyond her years. You’ve been in the world before, little lady, he
