Murders Without Motive

by Harry Nankin

  They had a good knowledge of the law and even better of police regulations.

  As for dealing with criminals on the street, undertaking raids, attending serious public disorder, or being alone on a Saturday night with gangs of drunken yobs running wild, they had no knowledge and experience and of course due to their rank, never would.

  Lampton the boss was little known, however, his briefcase carrier Bates was known as being arrogant and smarmy by the troops he had a name of being “A loveable shit”.

  It was always practice in the police, emulating politicians, that the main man never carried anything, instead it was the bag carrier, in this case the Inspector.

  The Chief-Constable had passed details of the suicide attempt by Crampton.

  It was their task to investigate, the case, dressed immaculately in dark suits they arrived at Chester police station.

  Showing their warrant cards to the civilian at the desk they were shown to the custody suite.

  On arrival they opened the prisoners in custody book, turned the pages and on reaching the relevant one they removed it replacing it with a piece of paper stating they had seized the items.

  They went through the building arriving in the office of the duty inspector, who knowing they were in the building had left post haste.

  Striker had remained for he knew they would wish a statement, It was self survival. He would have to make a full and frank statement of what had happened, dropping two other cops in the shit from a great height.

  He was, as he thought called and duly made his statement and signed it.

  Sergeant Eric Smith and Constable Wason were called in turn. They had sat and on doing so were served with papers as to the nature of the complaints against them. They signed for a copy.

  The interview commenced after the usual caution, you are not obliged to say anything. The proceedings brief, both refused to answer any questions.

  They were told they could leave, however they could see from the expression of the faces of the men from the Gestapo or field police as they were known. That going back to headquarters or The Big House, without full and Frank confessions their outlook was not bright.

  As they left Lampton called, “You two?”

  They turned Lampton was holding out his hand.

  “Your note books for the night of this incident, hand them over”.

  They reached into their pockets and duly handed them over.

  “You can go now; get another book each from the Inspector, where-ever he is hiding” said Lampton.

  “We will see Crampton next” said Lampton; they walked through the police station speaking to no-one as they did so.

  It was thirty minutes later nearly lunch time in fact when they arrived at Crampton Hall.

  Ringing the front door bell it was answered by Jessop. He looked them up and down after a few moments of silence he asked.

  “Yes, do you have an appointment?”

  “No but we wish to speak with Mr Charles Crampton” said Inspector Bates.

  “Not the press or media are you? If so all enquiries are being directed to Mr Templeton the family solicitor”. Came back Jessop in an arrogant stance.

  “Police, we are the police” replied Lampton

  Producing his warrant card, he then identified himself.

  “I am Superintendent Lampton, this is Inspector Bates, we are from the police Professional Standards Office. We are here investigating the bad care of Mr Charles Crampton whilst he was in police custody.

  Jessop attitude completely changed, he smiled and said, “Gentlemen, please do step inside”.

  Once inside they arrived in the magnificent hallway.

  “Please wait here said Jessop adding, “I will get someone to speak with you”.

  Before he could do anything a female voice called,

  “Jessop who is that?”

  “ Not the damn press again?"

  “No madam” he said, “two senior police officers investigating the atrocious treatment Mr Charles received whilst unlawfully locked up like a criminal”.

  “Hello” said the lady, short fat and sporting the family ginger hair, “I am Cousin Lisa, would you like to see Mister Charles?”

  “We would madam,” said Bates. “We require written statement from him concerning all the details of the treatment he received or rather failed to receive. We take these matters very seriously” he added”

  “I will go at once and call Mr Charles; strangely he has not been down from his room today. I assume he is too upset from all the distress of the false arrest and such, not to mention attempting to take his own life. It is all very disgusting Superintendent. I hope you will punish those responsible and of course as Mr Templeton says, adequately compensate Charles”.

  She turned and left before he could reply.

  She ran up the stairs, meanwhile Lampton and Bates waited.

  A moment or so later there was banging, and then she arrived at the top of the stairs.

  Looking down she called “Gracious Jessop, I cannot get a reply, the door is jammed, there must be something amiss, get a man in quickly”.

  “I will get the handyman he is working in the cellar, I will not be long.

  He turned and disappeared and five minutes later arrived back with Edward Miles. He was in his overalls covered in grease and said.

  “I was working on the gas heating, what is the problem?”

  “Please come up Miles, immediately”

  Miles looked and ran up the stairs in post haste. Its Mr Charles, there must be something amiss the door seems jammed”.

  Miles tried the door, it opened slightly but it was jammed.

  He stood back gave a huge push and the door opened. He didn’t go inside but Cousin Lisa couldn’t be held back, she was reputed to be a “goer” in these things.

  She gave a terrific scream and then shouted, “Police, police get up here”

  The two officers looked at each other and as they did so Miss Lisa called “thank heavens two senior detectives, what luck”.

  There was something seriously amiss both the police arrivals realised that.

  What they knew but Miss Lisa and Jessop didn’t was that although they carried the rank of Inspector and Superintendent. They knew about as much about these things as they did.

  Having joined the police as direct entrants for senior rank, they were fully qualified, that is to say they had the necessary legal qualifications and university degrees to do so.

  They had always been office bound and whereas it was one thing picking at the fault of operational officers and reading a file days later in the warm comfort of their offices.

  So far away they had been from the turmoil of life on the streets mixing with the worst in society.

  To be frank as they stood there they had not one clue what to do.

  “Come on please you are detectives?” said cousin Lisa.

  They had no choice but to climb the stair-case and when they reached the top in what appeared to be a mini second, they entered the room.

  Lisa was shouting “Cousin Charles whatever have you done?”

  Behind the door and hanging upon it was the body of a man, a ligature around his neck and an over toppled chair lying by his feet.

  They looked aghast; the man’s face was distorted, his tongue protruding slightly. There were streams of long saliva dripping down. He had clearly urinated and worse as the door moved, a loud sound of escaping wind emitted from the body. This was only surpassed by the running of his faeces on the floor.

  It was normal to any police officer; death was not pretty in spite of how the Hollywood movies portrayed it. The handsome smiling faces of lady victims the still but solemn faces of males.

  Here in the real world was how it really was, a now gruesome vile smelling mess.

  The two senior but completely inexperienced police officers reacted, not exactly how Miles the handyman and Cousin Lisa had expected.

  Lampton went pale and passed out; Bates went pale
then threw up on the floor.

  The truth is they had never seen a dead body let alone one hanging.

  Jessop arrived, shook his head then turned and went down stairs and dialled 999 for the police.

  By fortune or misfortune the nearest mobile at that moment was a police car en route to a routine call. It contained Sergeant Smith and Constable Wason. Both relieved of their duties within the police station had been sent to patrol the rural area, out of harms way, to quote the Chief Super.

  It was therefore only a few minutes when the officers arrived at the hall and on being admitted in by Jessop, not realising of course the identity of the officers at the scene already..

  They ran up the stairs and viewed the gruesome sight, they had seen such events many time before.

  Super Lampton had come round as Bates discovered he had no further vomit to share.

  “I see what have we here?” asked Sergeant Eric Smith, “Ah poor Mr Charles Crampton, appears to have committed suicide, finally”.

  He added, “I say Superintendent Lampton and Inspector Bates, we haven’t contaminated the scene have we?”

  “Vomit on the floor of all things” said Smith winking at Wason.

  “Did you not think of cutting him down and giving resuscitation?”

  “ After all we are not doctors, he may have still been breathing. You gentlemen must know the regulations”.

  The two stood, said nothing and just left leaving Sergeant Smith and Constable Wason to sort it out.

  Smith couldn’t resist calling, “I will have to include it all in the report to the Coroner sirs”

  He then obtained his radio and called in the call seeking that A CID officer should attend, together with a scene of crime officer. “Best to be on the safe side in view of all the recent trouble best to get the job done correct,” he thought.

  “Right” said Wason “I will just have the names of you people?”

  “I am Cousin Lisa, I live here at the moment” she said.

  “I am Miles the handy man” he replied adding, “I live on a cottage on the estate, alone at the moment, my wife is visiting relatives, you will find me around the hall if you need me I have a big repair job in the cellar”.

  “Thank you” replied Mason not really wishing a life story from Miles.

  “Oh very well” he continued. “If you would follow me to our car I will hand you each a proforma to complete of what happened. This will be evaluated and you may be seen again”.

  It was three o’clock that afternoon when Chief Constable Watkiss was in conference with the Commissioner.

  “To be quite frank with you Chief Constable all these deaths of the Crampton family, I was more than shocked to hear you had arrested the son Charles. He appeared to be such a pleasant chap a fellow brother mason not as that matters but I did know him through the lodge meetings”.

  “One can never tell Commissioner. In any event let us not pre judge things. Crampton was only arrested on suspicion and later bailed. We are hoping the laboratory will come up with something. As far as I know he declined to answer any questions. I am not sure as to the full circumstances of the interviews but that is what Chief Super Jinton updated me”.

  “I see well that does throw a different complexion on things. It appears from what you say we are relying on circumstantial evidence only”, replied Pendergast.

  “There is also the matter of him attempting to take his own life here that in itself will throw pity upon him”. He added.

  “Yes indeed Commissioner” she replied adding, “In addition the negligence of the duty officers permitting him to do so will cause us major grief I fear.”

  “Yes Chief I am surprised you have not had The Home Office onto you with the Royal connections and such”.

  “Belief me Commissioner my phone is hot most days for updates, each time it appears to get worse.”

  I regret as far as I know Jack Richards has not been forth coming much, though it may be the officers in the case have to some degree left old Jack out in the cold so to speak,” he said.

  The commissioner hesitated then replied “Well I confess he did a great job with the other two previous matters it appears to me you regular cops are using Jack as a last hope when all other avenues fail”.

  “Well Commissioner let us hope forensics come up with something to tie Charles Crampton in with the deaths. He is in debt for one thing”.

  Changing the subject she then suggested,

  “I say Commissioner let us go down to the police canteen and have a quiet drink with a scone and cream, it will be quiet this time of day in the senior officers mess”.

  It was also quite in the office of Detective Inspector Pearson, having been so engrossed with his own efforts he had not had time to confer with Jack Richards.

  Although thorough, Pearson doubted in the circumstances how Jack might come up with anything. All hopes he was thinking, now rested on the forensic tests.

  It also seemed he would require another sergeant has Gibson had just been served with discipline papers as a result of a complaint by solicitor Templeton because of the remarks, to quote his complaint of “solicitors being bent”.

  His solace was about to be broken for Coroners Officer Peters was already dialling his number.

  He answered “DI Pearson here, oh hello Jock, how can I help the Coroners Officer?”.

  Jock realised Pearson was not aware of what wonderful news was about to be transmitted to him.

  ”Have you not heard sir?”

  “Heard what Jock?”

  “Well of course about the death of Charles Crampton”.

  ”Not a bloody word, Christ please tell Jock.

  “Around lunch time today Crampton had a visit from the Gestapo; he hadn’t been seen all morning. The family assumed he was lying in or sulking after his being locked up”.

  ”When a cousin went up there, the door was jammed and to cut a long story short, it was fortunate the handyman was working in the cellar, he came running, forced the door and when cousin Lisa went into the bedroom there was Charles hanging behind the door off a ceiling beam, a chair lying on the floor. It appears that he stood on the chair then jumped off.

  “Oh hell so he must have had something to hide, I will bet the forensics will drop him right in the shit, case solved I suspect”.

  “Now hold on Sir, let me finish. The two Gestapo chaps were useless, one flaked out the other puked up and they both bolted.

  “Please carry on Jock” said Pearson.

  “Well who should information room send, none other than Sergeant Smith and Constable Wason”?

  “Oh no”

  “Yes it gets worse I am afraid, Inspector”

  “How could it” asked Pearson”.

  ”Well to all intents it was a straight forward suicide”. An ambulance came, no sign of life so they brought the corpse straight into the morgue at the Infirmary. I was here with Professor Hallam doing another so she said she would do this one, now Inspector here is the really crap news.

  “Dear God, what Jock?” “Don’t say it.”

  ”Yep, Inspector, Professor Hallam wants CID here now, I can’t say more just get over here”

  “I will”

  He put down the phone and ran out of the office.

  Arriving at the mortuary, he knocked and it was only moments before Jock Peters opened the door, Pearson walked.

  Professor Hallam was dressed in full protective clothing, blue disposable top and trousers, with long gloves and on top the small absorbent gloves used to soak up blood. Full face mask with eye goggles.

  Peters was dressed in a similar manner as was Fred the dead the mortuary porter and assistant.

  It was Fred who handed Pearson his kit, he left the room, changed and returned.

  Jock Peters leaned over and asked, “Done any of these before?” Pearson shook his head in the negative.

  This caused Peters to reflect in the old days when he first joined the police it had been part of the training as a
police officer during his probationary period to witness and in fact assist the pathologist in doing post-mortems.

  In those days the officer wore no protective clothing, simply took off his tunic, placing it on the side, rolled up the blue shirt sleeves and stood by the post-mortem table.

  The pathologist then inserted a scalpel into the chest cavity, making an incision right down the centre of the body from the neck to the private parts.

  This done the skin was folded back exposing the rib cage.

  An electric saw was obtained and each rib was cut through.

  This done the entire rib cage was removed exposing the internal organs.

  The assistant placed a small table upon the operating table and opened the deceased legs inserting the table between them.

  In turn each of the organs was removed and sliced up for examination.

  The pathologist then dictating his or her report into a dictating machine.

  When each organ was finished with it was placed into a dish, this was handed to the police officer who weighed it and recorded the weight on a form provided.

  When all the organs had been done they were unceremoniously tipped back into the body cavity.

  It was next the turn of the head. The skin cut at the back of the neck and pulled over so that the face of the deceased was loose almost like a mask. The top of the head was cut round with the electric saw and the brain removed being sliced and weighed as the other organs. This was not replaced in the head but placed in the body cavity.

  A small organ at the rear of the neck was kept by the pathologist. It was in those far off days sent and made into some growth drug.

  When all the organs had been weighed and placed inside the body cavity, any old clothing of the deceased was placed inside to bring the body back into shape. Finally the long incision was sown up with a cross stitch.

  The smell was not very pleasant and much worse in the cases of bodies which were decomposing.

  In those cases those present were given strong smelling ointment to rub onto the end of the nose. An incense candle often burnt to hide the horrific odour.

  Peters recalled how there had been surprises such as at a drowning post-mortem when an eel had once wriggled out of the stomach or in another case a rat.