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Sarah thought she knew what she was getting into when she attended a coroner's court in May 2024 to discuss the death of her second cousin.
Her day job as a murder detective meant she was used to courts, to judges, to legal argument. What she wasn't prepared for was a coroner's court. "I felt like I was on trial," she recalls of her first hearing, in Woking, Surrey. "I remember just feeling completely railroaded… It [was] far more hostile than I had ever expected."
Her cousin, Daniel Lindsay, died in 2023, aged 41. He had lived at a home in Surrey that specialises in caring for people with learning disabilities. Daniel also had Down Syndrome and type 1 diabetes.
As his death was unexpected, his case was referred to the coroner for an inquest.
What followed was one of the most stressful experiences of Sarah's life. She discovered new details about how her cousin lived, and his cause of death. The family initially thought Daniel died from a heart attack - but over the inquest, they learnt that was wrong. She had expected the process to be emotional; what she didn't predict was just how complex and frustrating it would be, at times leaving her tearful and furious.
Coroners examine deaths that are not straightforward, like unexpected or violent deaths, or those that take place in state custody. Every year, thousands of British families rely on these courts for crucial answers. For many, an inquest provides the key interaction with the arms of the state at a time of trauma.
