A Full Churchyard

by Nicholas Rhea

  ‘That’s how I see things too. Well, if there’s any way we can help, I shall be pleased to cooperate. So how do you think Crickledale Volunteer Carers can contribute? Surely you should be speaking to doctors, hospitals, the ambulance service and so on. . . .’

  ‘That will be done in due course, I assure you,’ smiled Pluke. ‘This is just the beginning of our struggle to conform to Home Office directives without jeopardizing our service to the public.’

  ‘Although I understand your dilemma, Detective Inspector, I fail to see how we can help. We are a volunteer group working on the proverbial shoestring. Part charity and part officially funded.’

  ‘But you do operate under the aegis of the local council?’

  ‘Yes we do. We’re ultimately responsible to the district council. They provide funds and help with the upkeep and running costs of this building and the agreed salaries of our permanent staff. A high proportion of our income is from charitable donations, so we don’t pay wages or expenses to our volunteers.’

  ‘Which is why I’m here, talking to you,’ smiled Pluke. ‘I have no doubt you will be, or have been, ordered to reduce costs?’

  ‘It goes on all the time, Mr Pluke. We’re not exempt.’

  ‘So, Mr Furnival, I am sure you have specific procedures for particular events so can I begin by asking this – in the event of a death of a person in your care, under what circumstances would you call the police?’

  ‘Well, the obvious answer would be if there was a break-in at the person’s home, or perhaps if the person appeared to have been attacked. Or if we suspected suicide or any sort of crime. In any of those circumstances, it would be an automatic reaction by any of our volunteers to call the police before taking further action.’

  ‘So are the police your first choice? What if there were no suspicions or if emergency treatments were not necessary? Wouldn’t you call a doctor first? Or the ambulance?’

  ‘As you know, Mr Pluke, one must interpret rules with common sense – I’m a great believer in the old saying that rules are for the obedience of fools and the guidance of wise people. What I am saying is that there is no set procedure – it all depends on the circumstances in each individual case, but I am sure you realize that the police are first considered in most of our emergency calls.’

  ‘Surely you provide some kind of training or guidance for your volunteers?’

  ‘We do, and my Fire Service career has helped. Like the police, fire fighters are trained in the recognition of suspicious deaths and the action that needs to be taken. I have revived that training for the benefit of my carers.’

  ‘So what happens if one of your volunteers is first at the scene where there is a dead person? Say in the dead person’s own home? They are not trained like police officers and fire fighters so what would they do?’

  ‘I have to say again that it would depend upon the circumstances, what they saw or what they thought had happened. They’d probably call this office to seek advice and guidance. I hope our training, brief though it is, would cope with most eventualities, but we can’t anticipate everything. No one can.’

  ‘So you don’t have a book of rules? A small leaflet explaining how they should react? One that is issued to all the volunteers?’

  ‘As a matter of fact we don’t. We can’t anticipate every set of circumstances and can’t provide guidance for all situations. There are simply too many variations so we must trust that an element of common sense among our carers would prevail. And, of course, we do encourage them to use their initiative.’

  ‘That doesn’t always work, especially in an emergency when panic can dominate one’s actions.’

  ‘That’s a good point, Chief Inspector. . . .’

  ‘Detective Inspector,’ corrected Pluke. ‘Not Chief Inspector.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘The reason I’m asking all these questions, Mr Furnival, is to try and establish whether your carers instinctively first call the police as a matter of routine in all cases where the cause of death is unknown. This is the kernel of this discussion. Or would they think of calling a doctor before contacting any of the other agencies?’

  ‘Oh, I think they’d call the police. . . .’

  ‘But if a doctor was first on the scene and certified the cause of death by acknowledging it had resulted from natural causes, then the police would not need to attend. That would save a lot of time and expense. Do you agree?’

  ‘Well, yes I do. . . .’

  Pluke continued. ‘That would represent a substantial saving in police time and money over the months and years. This is what the Home Office is agitating about.’

  ‘Well, I must agree that the police aren’t needed at the scene of every sudden death. If the casualty was examined first by a doctor who decided it was a natural death, then there would be no need for the police.’

  ‘That’s precisely the point I’m making, Mr Furnival. As things stand, the police are routinely called to the scene of almost every sudden or unexplained death, even when it is not necessary. This is where savings can be made. And you and I are aware that we never call the ambulance if the person is obviously dead. Ambulances are there to save life, not to deal with death.’

  ‘You’ve raised some good points, Detective Inspector Pluke. Rest assured, I shall do my utmost to persuade our carers against calling the police to every death although it will be difficult to persuade them to do otherwise.’

  ‘I’ll be pleased to help you find the right type of training,’ offered Pluke.

  ‘It’s more involved than that, Detective Inspector. You’re asking our carers to make very important, on-the-spot decisions. We have to take account of the fact that some apparently natural deaths might be due to murder. Then there’s the question of preservation of the scene and so forth. Our carers need to be aware of those matters.’

  ‘Investigating a death is never simple, Mr Furnival and I’m aware that the action taken upon first arriving at a scene of death often presents difficulties to an untrained carer.’

  ‘Surely that’s why calling the police is the most sensible thing they can do,’ said Furnival. ‘It’s a safe and valuable starting point. The police will know what to do next and which procedure to follow.’

  ‘Absolutely true, but all this boils down to is that the Home Office doesn’t want police officers dealing with tasks that are not police matters.’

  ‘You’ve raised some interesting points, Detective Inspector Pluke. My immediate reaction is that it would be very useful if there was some kind of formal training that could be undertaken by our carers to show them the best way to deal with a whole range of emergencies. They need practical examples too.’

  ‘Our training school has a film that shows exactly that, Mr Furnival, it explains to trainee constables – specials and regular officers – how to respond in a range of circumstances. I’ll speak to our Force Training Officer to see whether he could lend a copy to the CVC.’

  ‘That’s a very good beginning.’

  ‘Fine. We might even run a special course for your carers, to help them deal with whatever circumstances they encounter. That could be done without spending too much and in the long term it might help to save money and increase efficiency.’

  ‘We all need to do that, so is there any way I can help further?’ asked Furnival.

  ‘Yes,’ smiled Pluke. ‘Would you object to me talking to all your volunteers, one by one. Not during those times they are working, of course, but in their spare time. At home, perhaps? I need their cooperation in the compilation of my report to the Home Office and it would help if I could quote actual circumstances where carers have acted instinctively and called the police when perhaps, with a little thought, they might have called a doctor first. This is not a criticism, by the way, but we must look to the future.’

  ‘I don’t want to upset my staff by apparently being cri
tical of their work. They do a wonderful job for no money, and their clients warm to them. But if you can convince our staff to think twice before taking action, I see no reason why we can’t help. I can see the logic behind Home Office thinking, so I’ll give you my full support.’

  ‘Please don’t alert them in advance, Mr Furnival. I would like to speak to them cold, as it were, to get their instinctive response rather than a carefully thought-out reply. I don’t want responses that have been approved by someone in higher authority.’

  ‘Then I’ll show my cooperation by offering a list of all our carers? With their addresses and personal details.’

  ‘That would be of enormous help. And this is entirely confidential, as we can all appreciate. . . .’

  ‘Absolutely, Detective Inspector Pluke.’

  ‘So do your volunteers maintain work-time diaries, Mr Furnival?’ Wayne Wain suddenly joined the debate. ‘Or is there a master diary in Head Office? I’m thinking of a record of all cases dealt with . . . I would have thought a log of duty operations would be essential for your own security. We do live in an age when people can be sued for the most innocent of actions and for very trivial reasons.’

  Mrs Jarvis had been listening intently and now responded, ‘We keep very detailed records, Sergeant. Remember, we are entering peoples’ homes and dealing with very personal matters, so our volunteers are advised, for legal and practical reasons, to maintain an accurate daily record of all their activities. I check them regularly to keep them on their toes!’

  ‘A very wise and necessary procedure, Mrs Jarvis.’

  ‘We wouldn’t want to lay ourselves open to accusations of any kind from our clients or their families. I’m sure both of you realize that most of our clients are elderly and forgetful, they lose things and it is not unknown for some of our volunteers to be accused of theft or worse, Sergeant. In fact we have one old man who has an extremely valuable oil painting hanging above his fireplace . . . I do worry about it because he leaves his doors unlocked and invites all sorts of people in, just for companionship. . . .’

  ‘That’s exactly the sort of thing that needs to be recorded, for your own safety. And the old man does need some good advice too! So what is recorded in your master diary?’ asked Pluke. ‘And who’s responsible for maintaining it?’

  ‘I’m ultimately responsible,’ said Furnival. ‘But Sarah does the donkey work.’

  Sarah Allanby, sitting next to him at the head of table as she took notes of this meeting, looked up and smiled.

  ‘We keep a duty rota, Mr Pluke,’ she explained. ‘We need to know what our volunteers are doing, where they are and whom they are visiting. We maintain what might be called a duty sheet to ensure there are always volunteers available at short notice, and here in the office, we need to know where they are at any given moment when on duty.’

  ‘It sounds like a police operation,’ smiled Wayne.

  ‘We’re very strict about such things. Mr Furnival and both our professionals make sure we maintain very detailed records of all official activities. As the full-time secretary, I compile the duty rota and diary with help from our professionals and Mr Furnival checks it every morning. We look to see whether any of our volunteers have done something that might give rise to dissatisfaction or complaints and if they have, our professionals give them suitable advice and guidance. In addition, Mrs Jarvis covers evenings on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, with Mrs Frankland doing Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday. Mr Furnival does Sundays but they can swap with each other if necessary – that’s when they give help and advice to the volunteers. I might add that it is not easy, being a volunteer carer. There is much to consider.’

  ‘Even so, I would imagine most of their work will be innocuous stuff – helping an elderly person to get up on a morning, have a bath and breakfast, and then do a bit of shopping for them, washing and ironing, or whatever is needed.’

  ‘It is, Mr Pluke, but we do ask that our volunteers be very specific when compiling their records – they can be tempted to write stuff like “domestic help – 8 a.m. until 10 a.m.” when in fact we like them to itemize their work: “helping Mrs So-and-So to get dressed, shopping for her at Brown’s corner shop to buy groceries – £5.66p spent.” We think it is important to keep very detailed records, Mr Pluke, just in case we get complaints.’

  ‘That’s exactly why we keep such comprehensive records.’

  ‘There are lots of complainers in our society, Detective Inspector, not only our old people but their friends and families.’

  ‘Don’t we know it! And do you find the volunteers reliable in compiling their records?’

  ‘As good as possible, I feel. I know some will pop into a house if they are passing en route to the shops for their own needs; they like to check whether the occupant also needs anything . . . that kind of visit might go unrecorded. I’m sure there are many similar examples but to date nothing of that nature has given rise to concerns.’

  ‘So how do volunteers gain entry to the clients’ homes?’ asked Pluke.

  ‘We have copies of their keys,’ Furnival told him. ‘We have a secure key board with spares for all our clients’ homes. And each house is also fitted with a key-safe for emergencies – a small secure box on an outer wall where a code will release a key if required. Mostly, we are admitted by the occupants, either by leaving doors open when they expect us or unlocking them when our carers arrive. But if our staff can’t gain entry and the need is urgent, then we use keys from our stock – and each one is booked out and booked back in. Our cabinet is secured by a coded lock, the code is known only to myself, Sarah and our two professional carers.’

  ‘Everything seems to be very well organized, Mr Furnival, you have my congratulations,’ smiled Pluke.

  Mr Furnival responded, ‘We do our best, but I have to say that the Crickledale Volunteer Carers were up-and-running most effectively when I arrived on the scene. I’d say they are the best-run of all the groups I have been associated with, both professionally and in the voluntary sector.’

  Sarah butted in now. ‘Shall I print off a list of volunteers for Mr Pluke?’

  ‘Good idea, Sarah, and include a list of our clients too. Then Detective Inspector Pluke can ask them for their observations.’

  As Sarah left the room, Mr Furnival smiled at Pluke. ‘I think we can come to some agreement here, Detective Inspector Pluke. Your efforts might help also us to save money too, and reduce staff requirements. That can only be good for everyone. So what sort of things will you be asking the volunteers?’

  ‘As I said earlier, my prime purpose is to determine the circumstances in which they would call the police. There may be times when they’ve wondered what to do, cases when they didn’t need to call the police but did so because they couldn’t think of an alternative. It’s not a case of being critical, Mr Furnival, it’s being objective, trying to reduce costs, avoid wasting time and establish workable procedures. And as this is a Home Office initiative, it is highly confidential at the moment.’

  Mrs Jarvis now interrupted. ‘So will you want to chat to me, Mr Pluke? I must say I entirely agree with what Mr Furnival has said but I must admit there are times when even I, with my long nursing experience, have been uncertain who to call first at the scene of a sudden or unexpected death.’

  ‘I’ll be interviewing all the carers in due course,’ acknowledged Pluke. ‘Perhaps I could interview you after I’ve spoken to the others? That might help. We will draft a questionnaire to ensure everyone gets the same attention.’

  ‘Well, I’m not sure about that, Mr Pluke . . . more forms to fill in, boxes to tick.’ Mrs Jarvis sounded concerned.

  Furnival interrupted. ‘It’s very important that we cooperate, Juliet. We must make the most of our funding and this initiative from the Home Office can help us as well as the police. So yes, Detective Inspector, we’re pleased to help in any way.’

&nbs
p; ‘So can I ask you a question at this point, Mrs Jarvis,’ asked Wayne. ‘What is your personal first action at the scene of a problematical death? Sudden or unexpected?’

  ‘I would call the police,’ she shrugged her shoulders. ‘They would know what to do next, who else to call and so on. But I’ve never thought I was wasting police time by doing that.’

  ‘It’s certainly never a waste of police time,’ acknowledged Pluke. ‘But things are changing and the question is whether, in view of the Government cuts, we can reduce the time the police spend on call-outs that may not be strictly necessary. It is a very important and delicate matter and any views from you and your staff would be appreciated.’

  ‘I’ll help all I can,’ Mrs Jarvis assured them.

  At that point, Sarah Allanby returned with the list of volunteers and another file containing a list of clients; she handed copies of each to Pluke.

  ‘Their full names and addresses are there, Mr Pluke, along with any special skills that some might possess. I am sure you will find them – volunteers, carers and clients, past and present – all most delightful and helpful, especially Mrs Pluke. She always helps with our Thursday night rounds too, she is loved by all our patients and clients.’

  ‘I might discover something I never knew!’ he smiled. ‘I hope I can persuade Mrs Pluke to help me with this initiative! But thanks, all of you. We shall get to work immediately and will keep in touch with all the CVC members through Mr Furnival. Thanks for your time.’

  ‘A pleasure, Mr . . . er . . . Detective Inspector Pluke,’ said Furnival.

  ‘Thank you all for your help, it was most useful. So come along, Detective Sergeant Wain,’ Pluke rose to his feet. ‘We can’t delay, there is much to do.’