A Full Churchyard (26 page)

One frame on the wall contained a page from an edition of the Crickledale Gazette showing Joe holding a huge silver cup along with a caption saying,
‘Knowles Does It Again – Crickledale Joe Breaks Local Mile Record.'
But as Wayne examined each shelf, he noticed several gaps – cups had been removed and the circular clean patch in the dust that settled over the years without anyone cleaning it, revealed their former places. He counted four gaps. Wayne looked around the room to see if the missing cups had been placed elsewhere such as the window ledge or dressing table, but there was no sign of them.

However, there was a further door on the landing and so he went to find out what lay behind it, and this time there was a large double room complete with double bed, wardrobe, dressing table and chairs.

And this room also contained collectibles, row upon row of ink wells all arranged neatly along glass-fronted shelves on the western wall, whilst the eastern wall contained a similar display of snuff boxes.

He examined the interiors of those display cabinets and there were several empty spaces all identified by their dust-free places; clearly, they had been removed very recently. None of the cabinets or shelves bore any means of locking or securing them and so Wayne wondered who had removed the items – but he had no idea what exactly had been removed. The value could not be ascertained either and of course, there would be no available description unless Joe could recall the details with clarity.

He closed the door and returned to the kitchen where the kettle was boiling. He made two mugs of tea, found some chocolate biscuits in a tin and carried them all through to Joe on a tray, complete with a milk jug and sugar basin.

‘By gum, Wayne lad, you're well trained in domestic matters!'

‘It takes years of practice,' grinned Wayne, settling on the chair at Joe's side. Joe helped himself to two teaspoons full of sugar. Wayne did not take sugar.

‘Well, Wayne, did you see my trophies? I reckon they need dusting and cleaning, but they'll take no harm up there.'

‘I had no idea you'd won so many,' Wayne was honest. ‘And in so many different sports. Nowadays they have pentathlons for folks like you!'

‘We just did it for fun, not for money. I was good at what I did.'

‘I noticed there were gaps among your cups, Joe, as if some had been removed?'

‘Aye, they have. And some of my snuff boxes and my wife's scent bottles. And my ink wells.'

‘You were obviously keen collectors, you and your wife,' complimented Wayne.

‘My wife. Sophie that is, started it off with her scent bottles, and when she died a few years back, I kept on finding new ones so I bought 'em for her room . . . we've gathered a right good collection over t'years. Folks say they'll be worth a bob or two now. That's why I always keep my doors and windows locked. I don't want thieves coming in here to help themselves to my treasures, Wayne.'

‘But your door was open when I came in,' Wayne pointed out. ‘I just opened the door and shouted.'

‘Aye, well, that woman who came early this morning said her friend was coming later today, this evening more than likely, to value my stuff, so I told her to leave t'door open so the chap could get in. I haven't got one of them key-safes, I don't trust ‘em. You carers have keys but if he hadn't one I might not hear him knocking. My hearing's not as sharp as it used to be.'

‘So what did you do?'

‘I said to her I'd leave the door unlocked and he should come in, that would be OK by me. That's why I thought you were him.'

‘Did she say what time he was expected?' asked Wayne.

‘No, just it might be after his work tonight but before I go to bed.'

‘That's a big risk, Joe. Leaving the door open for somebody you don't know.'

‘Well, she's honest enough, Wayne, like all you carers. I reckoned she wouldn't send somebody in that wasn't honest so I didn't think there was a problem. I mean, Wayne. And I reckon you're honest enough, being a carer.'

‘You place rather a lot of trust in your carers, Joe.'

‘I do, they've always been good to me. Never a bad moment, Wayne. And besides, I always keep the back door locked and bolted, so it's just the front door that's open and not many folks know that.'

‘Well, I must say the folk of Crickledale are generally honest and trustworthy, Joe. So what's happened to those items that are missing?'

‘Oh, they'll come back, Wayne. They were taken away by one of those lasses from t'carers, she said she knew a chap who would give an honest valuation, that's the chap I'm expecting. Not that I want to sell 'em, of course, but it'll be nice to know how much they're worth if I ever need cash in a rush.'

‘So how long ago was that?'

‘I can't say, Wayne, I get a bit confused nowadays. One day just fuzzes into t'next but I'm sure she came this morning.'

‘Could someone else have called? Have you a family, Joe? Someone who might inherit these antiques?'

‘No, we were never blessed with children, me and Sophie. When she died, I thought I'd give all my stuff to Crickledale Folk Museum but I've never got round to it. To be honest, I find it hard to part with any of 'em, Wayne. They've all got memories for me, me and Sophie.'

‘Perhaps you should donate them to the museum, Joe? They'll be safe there. Would you like me to have a word with the curator?'

‘Oh, that lass from t'carers said she'd do that, Wayne. She said she would get that chap off the telly to come round here this evening and have a look at 'em all, the lot in fact, and take everything away to be assessed by experts, then he'd give me a valuation. In fact, I thought you were him coming early, Wayne. She said he'd come on Wednesday evening after tea so he must be due any time now.'

‘I'll wait.'

‘What time is it now? I never know what time it is. Anyroad, mebbe you should meet him?'

‘I think that would be a good idea, Joe. Do you mind if I wait here?'

But the alarm bells were already ringing in Wayne's mind. Wednesday evening was when some of the deaths must have occurred so that the casualties were found on the cold floor next morning. Thursday was not the key date for the cold-case review – it was Wednesday. Today. That was when CVC Carers called, people died and precious items went missing . . . and when Furnival had his day off. Pluke had mentioned the need to set a trap to catch the villains in action, with live bait.

‘Can I use your phone, Joe? To call my boss? It's urgent. We'll pay . . .'

‘Help yourself, it's in the front room.'

And so Wayne went to ring Detective Inspector Pluke.

Chapter 18

A
fter listening to
Wayne's account, Pluke congratulated him upon his swift assessment of the situation. He agreed that it was the right moment to set a trap to catch those suspected of stealing from elderly people and at the same time, trap the suspected killers.

‘It seems we can discount Dr Simpson as being part of the killer team. From what you say, he was merely doing his job and he did alert the police if and when he thought something was wrong. Now we know the key moment was always when he declared a death to be from natural causes – that was just what the plotters wanted. Little did the doctor realize what would follow his diagnosis.'

‘I don't think he was culpable, sir.'

‘Now we must consider Joe with his collection of trophies. I think he's at risk, Wayne, so you'd better remain with him tonight,' he advised Wayne. ‘I'll arrange back-up from Inspector Horsley and his officers. I'll contact you again, on Mr Knowles' house telephone, the one you're using now, for an update on our precise timing and other details. The phone is secure, is it? Will he overhear you?'

‘No, I'll make sure the doors are closed and his television is on. He likes it loud in the room he uses as a bedroom. The phone's quite a way from where he sleeps and eats. I bet he has a lot of unanswered phone calls!'

‘I'll let you know my plans once I have sorted things out with Inspector Horsley. There's no time to waste.'

‘I hope it all goes to plan.'

‘It will, Wayne. It will have to go to plan, we can't afford slip-ups at this stage!'

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.'