A Full Churchyard (7 page)

He refrained from telling her the purpose of his research because he did not want the people of Crickledale knowing that their detective inspector was possibly hot on the trail of a clever serial killer or killers who may have been active for years and who may still be operating. Such a revelation could prompt wholesale panic and wild stories in red-top newspapers. Detectives must be discreet, especially when gathering compelling and sensitive evidence, he reminded himself.

He found the book and took it to his sanctuary in the corner near the window. He quickly found the heading
Easing Death
but was surprised that that particular section was very well-thumbed with its page corners turned over, pencil marks in the margins and dirty fingerprints around the borders. Clearly, it was a popular subject. With whom? Suspicious or assisted deaths were not common in Crickledale – or were they? Were they more common that he realized? So who had left those dirty fingerprints? Could Scenes of Crime Officers produce acceptable images from them, he wondered? He would bear the possibility in mind but he did not wish to seize the book as evidence, not at this early stage of his enquiries. That would prompt rumours!

As he concentrated, his research reinforced his knowledge that, in the past, there had been a widespread desire to help people to die if their passage from life was difficult. Invariably, that help was of the practical kind with no prayers. In all cases the house where the dying person lay was prepared for the exit from life by having all its doors and windows opened to permit the soul to depart without hindrance. In some cases, the dying person was lifted out of bed and laid on the floor to ensure he or she lay parallel to the floorboards.

This was also designed to ease the departure of the soul and it was known that in the days before fitted carpets and comfortable rugs, and when bedrooms were on the ground floor, the shock of a very weak person being lifted from a warm bed and laid on a cold floor, especially one of stone, was enough to terminate the sufferer's precariously slender hold on life. It was also believed that a person could never die if their pillow contained the feathers of pigeons, doves or game birds and so there had developed a custom known as ‘Drawing the Pillow'. To hasten death, any pillow thought to contain such feathers – as most did – was suddenly and rapidly withdrawn from beneath the head in such a way that it hastened death of a person already terminally weak. To enable the person to survive, however, such a pillow was left alone and indeed, others might be added by packing them around the head or close to the body beneath the bedclothes. Friends and family would always help an ailing person to live – or to die.

Even as late as 1902 in the Isle of Ely, if a person was on the point of death but struggling to die, the village nurse was asked to bring a certain pillow with a black lace edging. Reputedly made years earlier and handed down through the years from one nurse to another, it was used to speed the death by being pressed on the face of the sufferer.

Sometimes this treatment was aided by a concoction of opium pills mixed with gin – but it was all done out of kindness towards the sufferer.

Following the death, there were practices to help the soul leave the bodily remains and the home of the deceased. The opening of all doors and windows was vital to help the soul leave the premises without hindering its journey to heaven. Mirrors were turned to the wall or covered so that the departing soul would not catch sight of itself on that final journey and become confused about its purpose and direction. Wandering souls did not understand the impact of seeing their own image so they must be protected against themselves. Clocks were stopped at the time of death, animals were not permitted in the house of death and all perishable foods were thrown out. Sometimes a bucket containing earth, or perhaps water and salt, was placed under the dead person's bed, ostensibly to prevent the body swelling in death but probably to thwart the attention of the devil. Candles may be lit in the dead person's room for the same purpose – apparently the devil did not like bright lights.

One important fact was that a dead body should never be left alone in the house – someone should watch it until the funeral. This led to the practice of carrying out wakes or even having a meal with the dead person in attendance. Sometimes people would sit around drinking and eating with the coffin in the centre being used as a table. In this way, it was felt the spirit of the deceased was participating. Refreshed by his revision and satisfied he had gleaned sufficient information to further his enquiries, Pluke went to thank Mrs Bentham.

‘Did you find what you wanted, Mr Pluke?'

‘Thank you, I did. But I did notice that the encyclopaedia appears to have been used a lot. Do you get many people using it?'

‘Superstitions are always a popular subject for research, Mr Pluke, and we do frequently get a number of people wanting to check things. We could really do with another copy of that book but they are difficult to find.'

‘Do they show interest in any particular subject?'

‘I never know precisely what they are looking for, although beliefs about weddings are always popular – all brides worry about what they should wear at their wedding to ensure good luck. They never wear green, for example, but grooms don't appear to be concerned about such things.'

‘So we are still a superstitious nation? Well thank you once again. I'm sure I'll return.'

He returned to his office, his head buzzing with ideas and theories. As he passed the ever-open doorway of the Control Room, he poked his head around the door to address Sergeant Cockfield-pronounced-Cofield,

‘Any developments, Sergeant?'

‘No messages, sir, except that Detective Sergeant Wain has gone out. He asked me to let you know. He has gone to the Registrar's Office in connection with your current investigation and suggested you join him.'

‘Didn't he give any other reason? A specific area of enquiry perhaps?'

‘No, sir.'

‘All right, Sergeant, I'll join him. You can always contact me there if an emergency arises. Then I'll come back to my office.'

He told Mrs Plumpton where he was heading, explaining it was part of his cold-case review. Crickledale's office of the Registrar of Births, Deaths and Marriages was within the Town Hall, a five-minute walk away.

He was greeted in reception by a pleasant young woman, whose name-badge said she was Miss Joy Colman, the Assistant Registrar. She was a smartly dressed with dark hair, dark eyes and a smile full of white teeth. It seemed Miss Ledger, the registrar, was away.

‘You must be Detective Inspector Pluke,' her warm greeting produced a glow of contentment within Pluke's system. Pretty women had that effect upon him but he had never met Miss Colman before. He deduced she must be a new member of staff.

‘Yes, I'm Detective Inspector Pluke and I'm very pleased to meet you, Miss Colman. You're new here?'

‘Yes, I've been here six months, it's a nice place to work. One meets someone from almost every family in the town, it's an ideal way of making friends.'

‘I am sure it is. Now, I'm seeking Detective Sergeant Wain.'

‘Yes, he's waiting in the small conference room whilst doing some research for a survey requested by the Home Office. He said you would probably join him. If it's Mrs Ledger you wish to speak to, then I'm afraid she is at a meeting in York. She is not expected back this afternoon.'

‘I am here merely because my sergeant is expecting me.'

‘Thank you, so if you go through that green door, you'll find him.'

And so he did. They did not begin discussions about the purpose of their visit partly because Pluke had little idea why his sergeant had decided to come here but also because the reason for their visit might be very confidential. He liked Wayne's explanation that it was for a survey being requested by the Home Office. Even though the registrar's work was confidential and invariably of a highly personal nature, they would always co-operate with a police investigation.

‘So what brings you here, Wayne?' Pluke took a seat. The room was quiet and discreet as one would expect.

‘I've been thinking about those peculiar deaths, sir. I didn't want to spark off a wave of alarm nor did I want newspaper reporters discovering what we're up to. That would happen if we started quizzing folks in Crickledale or poking around in local newspaper files. So I came here where our initial enquiries can be confidential.'

‘What initial enquiries? Exactly what are you trying to find out?'

‘I want a list of everyone who has died in Crickledale during the past ten years. I want to establish whether there's a pattern or trend of any kind. I'll need very little information to start with – names, ages, addresses, next-of-kin, date of death, cause of death and date of funeral. Oh, and whether they were buried or cremated here or elsewhere. Most importantly I want to know which deaths were reported to the coroner.'

‘You need to establish whether or not the police were involved at any stage and which deaths attracted a post mortem or an inquest. That information can be obtained from our files, Wayne. We would have investigated all suspicious deaths. You know that.'

‘Yes but we haven't investigated those where there was no official suspicion. That's the point I'm making. I told Miss Colman that the Home Office is having an audit on all sudden deaths that have been reported to the police. I said I needed to find out how long we took to investigate each case, that's a good way of highlighting the depth of our enquiries. I added I was anxious to check our figures against those officially listed here. Every death in town is recorded here, suspicious or otherwise. It's a useful back-up to our own system and important if some deaths occurred in peculiar circumstances but were
not
reported to the police or coroner.'

‘You could stir up nasty rumours so be very careful, Wayne. Have you found anything yet?'

‘I haven't checked the statistics that show the
average
number of deaths in Crickledale in any year or even any month – that's for later but what has already emerged is that there have been more deaths in Crickledale during the last nine months than in the same period last year.'

‘It could be due to the mild winter, Wayne. As I've already reminded you, it's well known that a green winter heralds a full churchyard.'

‘With due respect to you, sir, I don't place much reliability on folklore theories but I do believe the number of recorded deaths gives cause for concern.'

‘But
suspicious
deaths reported to the police haven't increased, have they Wayne?'

‘No they haven't. That's exactly the point I'm making. I need a print-out of this information so we can compare it with our files. I'm increasingly convinced we should examine the backgrounds of all recent Crickledale deaths.'

‘You're echoing my own worries and concerns, Wayne. Suppose, for a start, we examine reports of deaths in Crickledale over just one year? Last year in fact. Would that provide an accurate picture?'

‘It's a good starting point but we'd need more information and it's doubtful whether a single year would produce an accurate picture. You've already indicated your own suspicions based on recent deaths. So shall I continue here and bring the result to your office? Or do we let sleeping dogs lie?'

‘We do not let sleeping dogs lie, Wayne, we are dedicated police officers determined to find the truth. All right, go back ten years and in the meantime I'll return to my office to begin research into our own files.'

‘Do you know something you're not telling me, sir?'

‘I don't want to plant ideas in your head, Wayne, or influence your research. What we need are facts, not theories.'

‘Shall I speak to the town's undertakers? They enter houses in the course of their work and may have noticed some inconsistencies, like the one who thought Miss Croucher's death was odd in some way.'

‘You were going to talk to him, weren't you? You've not followed up that line of enquiry, have you?'

‘No, but I haven't forgotten. It would be useful if other undertakers expressed their opinion before I quiz him.'

‘By all means speak to them, Wayne, but make it an informal chat rather than an official enquiry. We need to keep the lid on all this at the moment. Remember if someone is killing vulnerable people, it could be an undertaker – after all, they have a lot to gain from death. Death provides their living, Wayne.'

‘Including the gravedigger and his side-kick?' put in Wayne.

‘We should include everyone associated with deaths and funerals, including the doctors. Exercise the same caution throughout and make sure you include the carers. Any one of those people could have a motive and lots will have had an opportunity to expedite a death.'

‘Mrs Pluke is a carer. Might she be able to help discreetly?'

‘I don't relish the idea that my wife may be a suspect in a case of multiple murder, Wayne, but she might prove to be a good witness. However, as a reputable police officer, I have to put my personal feelings aside as I investigate this matter without fear or favour. Remember we are treating everyone as witnesses at this early stage, not suspects.'

‘So at the moment we have no known murder victims and no official crimes, but lots of suspects?' Wayne smiled at the thought.

‘Witnesses, Wayne. Witnesses, not suspects. We must clearly identify cases where the deaths could be the result of murder and then we might interview suspects, hopefully without exhumations.'

‘We've set ourselves a major task and in the meantime I'm looking for a common factor but haven't found anything apart from the apparent involvement of Crickledale Carers. That's one mighty common factor to conjure with!'

‘It is indeed, and I must say the name of Dr Simpson is cropping up regularly too. I must say the entire matter weighs heavily on my shoulders. I hate to think that a serial killer could have been at work in Crickledale over several years without raising the tiniest hint of suspicion.'