A Full Churchyard

by Nicholas Rhea

  Having ended his call to Pluke, Wayne went to see Joe and said, ‘Joe, you are far too trusting. I have a confession to make. I’m not a Crickledale Carer.’

  ‘I know you’re not! I’m not daft! You’re a detective, one of Mr Pluke’s men but that doesn’t stop you being a carer! Mrs Pluke once pointed you out when I was walking through the marketplace. I know her, she pops in here sometimes. Nice woman. We saw you crossing the square – very recognizable. But just now, when you came to see me, I thought there was nothing odd about it. I just reckoned you must be working for the carers like Mrs Pluke does. I’m not senile, you know. I keep my wits about me.’

  ‘That’s put me firmly in my place!’ laughed Wayne. ‘But Detective Inspector Pluke and I are working closely with the carers on a project – it’s a bit complicated but we’re trying to find way of cutting down the number of unnecessary calls to the police.’

  ‘Well, Wayne, if I had an emergency, I’d just press this button,’ and he opened his shirt front and pulled out a chain bearing a red button; it was rather like a jewellery pendant. ‘My call goes straight into the CVC office for help. We never ring the police, Wayne, it’s easier to press our red button and call the carers. Somebody always responds.’

  ‘That’s something I’ve learned. But back to these treasures of yours, I think you’re far too trusting, Joe. You really need an approved museum expert to come and assess them, not just somebody who’s the friend of a carer.’

  ‘Well, it’s a bit late now, I expect they’re on the way.’

  ‘But it could be mid-evening when they get here, you said? After tea?’

  ‘Aye, it might be.’

  ‘I expect they’ll be here for quite some time, Joe, if they do a full assessment.’

  ‘You could be right. That carer woman said that they’d pack all my stuff and take it away somewhere to be valued. It could take a fair time to pack, there’s a lot o’ stuff.’

  ‘So who’s coming to visit you tonight? A carer woman, is it? Do you know her name?’ Wayne asked again, hoping Joe’s memory might have been jogged.

  ‘As I said, I’m not very good with names, Wayne. I remember yours because Mrs Pluke pointed you out and I used to be a big fan of John Wayne, that’s how I remember. The carers send different women to see me . . . it all gets a bit confusing. As I said, Mrs Pluke pops in sometimes when she’s passing, just to see if I want anything but I know her well enough, Wayne, I’d always trust her.’

  ‘I thought the carers allocated just one of their members to you on a regular basis, the same one every time so you’d get to know him or her.’

  ‘Oh, aye, I’ve got a young lass called Fiona who comes most of the time, mornings and afternoons, but she’s not the one who said she’d be sending that valuer. She’s a bit older than Fiona but don’t ask me her name, I haven’t a clue. I get lots in here and forget who they all are, but this one does sometimes drop in later in the day, after tea as a rule. Checking on the young ’uns, I expect, making sure they treat us right. I think Mrs Pluke does a spot of checking on ’em too, making sure t’carers do their jobs. It’s appreciated, Wayne, all the work they do for not a penny in payment and I must say Crickledale Carers look after me very well.’

  ‘Well, Joe, the local police aren’t complaining about them. We just want to make our contacts more efficient than they are. Anyway I think I should remain with you until your visitors arrive.’

  ‘You mean you don’t trust ’em? Is that why you’re here undercover?’

  ‘Joe, you’re a man of the world and I’m sure you’ve had occasions when folks have let you down.’

  ‘I have, Wayne. Folks you’d least expect to do so, an’ all.’

  ‘Right. Without alarming you by telling you why, I must say I’m worried about you and your belongings. I’ll stay here tonight to look after you. I can feed myself and Tesco is handy if we’re stuck. . . .’

  ‘There’s enough stuff in my fridge to feed an army, Wayne, it’s packed to the ginnels with ready-made meals. This is all very puzzling, I don’t know what’s going on but it’ll be nice to have your company for a while. I get lonely on my own. So you’ve not come to value my things? You really are my carer for tonight as well as a detective?’

  ‘I am, but your regular carer might turn up as well.’

  ‘Are you expecting trouble, Wayne? Is that why you’re here?’

  ‘Let’s just say we’re prepared for anything, Joe.’

  ‘Fair enough, you know what you’re doing but it could be fun for an old man, seeing the police in action.’

  ‘We’re drafting in others from the uniform branch, just for back-up,’ Wayne explained. ‘There’ll be a lot of police about, mainly outside. But some of us will have to conceal ourselves inside. . . .’

  ‘Conceal yourselves? Is this a raid?’

  ‘Not a raid, Joe. It’s a form of protection for you. I know it sounds serious but we’ll be in charge and you’ll come to no harm,’

  ‘Well if you want somewhere to hide, I can tell you now my carers never go into that front room,’ said Joe. ‘I don’t use it either. It’s cosier in here.’

  ‘Great, that’ll suit us. We can hide in there with the lights off. I’ll hear anyone arriving and if they do move around the house, it’ll be into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee or something, or perhaps upstairs to look at your collection, as well as this room where you live and sleep. If we do get visitors, they’ll be in a rush, they won’t hang about.’

  ‘My antiques are all upstairs, Wayne, they know that, I told ’em so. Mebbe that was daft. So what do you want me to do? I’m not much of an actor and as an old man I don’t hear or see very well. I’m not a man of action now either, I’m old and weak, very weak. I’m 89 you know, not long for this world. My old heart’s causing problems, the carers do get the doctor to call around every so often but there’s nowt anyone can do. Old age has ’em all beaten but I’m not frightened of going off into t’next world. Mind you, I want to enjoy what’s left of my time in this one. I still say my prayers before I go to sleep, like I used to do when I was a lad.’

  ‘Well, I don’t want you behaving like Superman, Joe. Just go about your normal household routine and let me deal with whatever happens. If you feel tired, go to bed or put the telly on and do whatever you’d be doing this evening. If you don’t know what to do, pretend to be asleep.’

  ‘I can do that with no trouble. So who do you think is coming to see me? Will it be Mrs Pluke again? I thought it was the chap off the telly and a woman carer so what do I say to them?’

  ‘Just behave normally, Joe, pretend to be asleep and leave it all to me. I’ll be somewhere in the house within listening distance. Are you expecting another carer before tonight? This afternoon, I mean.’

  ‘Yes, Fiona comes to get me a biscuit and a cup of tea in the afternoons, then another comes later to make sure I clean my teeth and go to the loo before I get into bed. That one stays about half an hour and when she’s gone to her next client I get ready for bed – pyjamas on – and I usually get to bed quite early – nine o’clock or thereabouts. I watch the news from my bed, if I can stay awake.’

  ‘And the carer locks up when she leaves?’

  ‘Yes, she drops the latch so I’m safely locked in for the night. She has a key, the carers look after it. I don’t know her name.’

  ‘So if anyone else tries to get in, they’ll need a key?’

  ‘Aye, but if the chap coming to see my treasures is a carer, he’ll have a key, won’t he? He’d never get in otherwise, unless he breaks in, and besides, if I’m asleep or watching the telly, I’d never hear him. I lie in bed and listen to the telly but it allus sends me to sleep before the news comes on. I’m out like a light till next morning.’

  ‘Right. So when Fiona comes to make a cup of tea and do whatever she does, I’ll be in your front room, listening. With the d
oors ajar, I should be able to hear what’s being said, but if possible I don’t want her to know I’m in the house. If I think she’s likely to come into the front room, then I’ll come out and tell her I’m a friend of yours. OK? Call me Wayne.’

  ‘Right, I’ve got that! So the others will be coming later, after Fiona? They’re not likely to hurt me, are they? You’ve got me bothered now, all this talk of folks coming to take my stuff. You hear some funny tales about folks being let into other folks’ homes at night, especially when it’s dark, like it will be tonight, still being winter time.’

  ‘What sort of funny tales, Joe?’

  ‘Well, my pals used to come and see me once in a while, before they died that was, and they told about old folks being found lying on cold floors, all done up as if ready for the coffin. . . .’

  ‘Who’s been telling you that?’

  ‘Can’t remember, but it was somebody who lives in the town and knows what goes on. . . .’

  ‘Well, it’s not going to happen to you, Joe, not with me here, is it?’

  ‘I hope not, Wayne. I’m ready to go, but not like that. . . .’

  ‘So it’s a good job I decided to come and see you, isn’t it? With all your treasures being valued tonight. Now I must keep in touch with Detective Inspector Pluke but from now I’ll use my mobile. I want to keep your line clear, I’ll answer it if it rings so don’t try to do so. Once he explains his plans, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Is this what the police call a stakeout? I think I must have heard that on some of the cop shows.’

  ‘I suppose some would call it that. We might refer to it as covert observations which sounds much, much better! So, if Detective Inspector Pluke joins me, I think it would be wise for him to come in via the back door under cover of darkness. We don’t want the whole street watching and wondering what he’s doing here.’

  ‘By gum, Wayne, this is getting very exciting. I don’t want to miss any of the action, do I?’

  ‘You won’t, I promise,’ smiled Wayne. ‘And now I’ll wash the pots before things start happening. You settle down with your telly.’

  Meanwhile in the Pluke household, Millicent said she would prepare something and pack a sandwich with a flask of coffee for Montague.

  He had not told her what his secret mission was to be, but she knew better than ask. Millicent then told him that she also was working tonight, standing in for a carer who’d been called away on a family matter. At this stage she didn’t know which house she would be attending. With Millicent busy in the kitchen, Pluke rang Wayne from his bedroom, using his mobile phone.

  ‘Wayne?’

  ‘Speaking.’

  Pluke whispered, ‘I’ll come to Mr Knowles’ house when his afternoon carer has left. I understand you’ve not seen John Furnival this afternoon?’

  ‘Not a whisper. According to his secretary, he always gets right away from Crickledale during his time off. He visits antique shops in Leeds and Harrogate, he’s keen on the small stuff like trinkets and portable items.’

  ‘That’s significant, Wayne. Getting away from call-outs, I mean. Well, it looks as though you might have pre-empted a bold attempt to steal from Mr Knowles, and who knows what might have happened to him. He’s not wanting to die, is he?’

  ‘He wants to live as long as he can, there’s no sign of him wanting a mercy killing. In fact he’s told me that he wants to live and enjoy this world for as long as possible. Nonetheless, he’s very frail but alert and chatty. He knows his heart is weak and a sudden shock could finish him off.’

  ‘Hmm. I’m sure his carers know that. So if they took him from his bed and laid him on a cold floor, the shock might end his life?’

  ‘I’m not a doctor, I’ve no idea of the effect of that. But if these old folks have any guts, they won’t just lie on those cold floors until they die, surely? I can’t see Joe Knowles letting them do that to him, frail though he is. He’s a fighter.’

  ‘That’s why I think at least two people must have been involved in those earlier deaths, Wayne. It would require two to carry a person from his or her bed and then to hold them down on the floor. We’re not thinking of a lone rogue carer. You need two to carry a person even when alive. If a frail old lady was hoisted out of her bed by someone using the fireman’s lift, it would still require two fairly fit people to lay her on the floor without causing any injuries . . . and they must have remained with the victim until it was certain he or she was dead. It’s murder, Wayne, there’s no doubt about it. Murder in the course of theft or burglary, always targeting valuables. And tonight, it will be attempted murder. We shall prevent it.’

  ‘It won’t be easy.’

  ‘It won’t, but the element of surprise will be on our side. I’m hoping we will be the reliable witnesses to this.’

  ‘It doesn’t make the carers appear in a very good light, does it?’

  ‘Far from it, Wayne, which is why we need to find John Furnival as soon as possible. We need a long talk with him! Before this call though, I alerted Inspector Horsley and Sergeant Cockfield-pronounced-Cofield to our plans. They will brief the town patrols who will report Furnival’s movements if he turns up anywhere in town. I’ll not reveal my whereabouts to anyone tonight, not even my wife. This is a very secret operation, Wayne.’

  ‘You don’t still suspect Mrs Pluke, do you?’

  ‘She’s involved with the carers tonight so she remains in the frame, as they say. That’s all I can say at this juncture. I know I shouldn’t be thinking of my wife in this way but this evening’s vigil will help to prove the innocence of many and perhaps the guilt of a few. I hope it shows there is no general CVC conspiracy, it’s all down to a few roguish members. That’s how I see things.’

  ‘It’s all making sense now.’

  ‘Then you’ll understand why I dare not inform Mrs Pluke of my whereabouts in case she inadvertently lets it known to others, particularly the suspects. As we say in the world of criminal investigation, she might blow the gaff. Unwittingly.’

  ‘I’ll remain here, waiting and watching with Joe Knowles. He’s looking forward to the police activity, but I reckon he’ll sleep through it all.’

  ‘I hope he does, Wayne. That would be one worry less! Now this is what I am planning. Once the afternoon carer has left, I shall come to the rear door. Meanwhile, back-up from the town’s uniform branch will arrive under cover of darkness and conceal themselves. There is ample cover near the house. Make sure you are able to let me in.’

  ‘I will.’

  ‘Good. I shall then instruct a uniformed constable to position himself in the vicinity of that rear door to observe events in secret and when possible to report by radio to Sergeant Cockfield-pronounced-Cofield in the Control Room. He’ll ensure he is not seen by those coming into the house – fortunately, it’s January so it’ll be dark early. Before I join you, I’ll prepare my surveillance microphones, cameras and recording machines and when I arrive, I will secrete them in Mr Knowles’ room and also upstairs where his treasures are kept. I’ll not let him know where I’ve hidden the equipment in case he lets the cat out of the bag or glances towards their hiding places. It will take a while to install the equipment and I’ll be pleased if you could divert Mr Knowles’ attention whilst I’m doing that.’

  ‘No problem, I can get him talking about his athletic successes!’

  ‘Good. Meanwhile, Wayne, before I arrive, can you discreetly chat to Mr Knowles to identify a few good places where I can conceal the equipment.’

  ‘Yes, there’ll be no large pieces, will there?’

  ‘No, they’re all small instruments, easily concealed behind furniture or even in bookcases. I’ll carry them into the house in the large pockets of my greatcoat. As our man on the ground, do these plans seem feasible, Wayne?’

  ‘I’d say very suitable, just what we need. And very necessary.’

 
‘It means we shall be well prepared, Wayne, but I do not expect the targets to arrive before eight o’clock. We can bring our own food from Tesco. You and I will be in touch with Control via our mobile telephones; the house phone will be left available for emergencies. When I arrive you must introduce me to Mr Knowles and give me a quick tour of the house to familiarize myself with its layout and, of course, the location of the valuables. We have no time to waste, Wayne. When crooks are about, the best laid plans of mice and policemen can often go astray.’

  ‘At the moment, I see no difficulties. The only problem would be if the villains turn up before we’re ready for them.’

  ‘I’m sure they will not arrive until at least eight o’clock which gives us time to prepare a welcoming party.’

  ‘Why are you so confident about that?’

  ‘I’ll explain when I arrive. Now, I’m thinking, Wayne, that if these people are seeking to remove objects in secret from Mr Knowles’ house, they will not do so via the front door. Approaches to front doors can be observed by too many people; consequently we shall make good use of the back door and the cover of darkness. I’ll bring some battery-operated miniature night-sight cameras to cover all exits. You will gather, Wayne, that I’m approaching this project with the utmost seriousness.’

  ‘I’m impressed. I’ll be ready and waiting. I should warn you, however, that Joe Knowles is very frail and admits to being confused.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning but we’ll cope. When I arrive, you must fully update me – and well done, Wayne, for recognizing the need for this raid.’

  ‘Thank you, sir – but our thanks are really due to Mrs Plumpton.’

  Before leaving Crickledale police station, Pluke reiterated his plans to Inspector Horsley and after approving the inspector’s plans for his part in the covert operation, Pluke asked that one of Horsley’s officers drive him close to Joe’s house but not to the actual site. Pluke wanted to arrive there quietly in a plain car under cover of darkness. Instead of wearing his usual overcoat and hat, he wore the black coat he’d used for Mrs Langneb’s funeral, along with a black hat and black leather gloves. Like all Montague’s coats and jackets, this one had very large pockets.