Murders Without Motive (8 page)

Gibson arrived back but realised there had been a change of plan when his skipper, as Inspectors were referred to, said. “Sergeant is the car ready?”

“It is sir”.

“Then please Mr Crampton come with me. You are being taken to Chester police station for interview under the appropriate conditions as required under the terms of the Police and Criminal evidence act”.

“I have to tell you also that Sergeant Gibson will remain here and he together with other officers and will search the house with a view to securing evidence in this case. We have powers to do this as you are now in custody”.

Crampton made no reply however Templeton said, “Charles I will get someone over from my office to witness and record events here. Mean-while, make no comment until we arrive in the custody suite at the police station.

Crampton remained silent has Gibson placed the hand-cuffs on his wrists and behind his back

Had he, Crampton, been left to his own devices he would have said that which was on his mind, “What the bloody hell is going on, I haven’t murdered anyone this is completely outrageous”.

It was at that very inappropriate moment that the phone of Pearson rang, he looked, it was Jack Richards.

He answered only to say.

“Yes Pearson here, I am currently engaged I will return your call shortly”.

He made no reference to whom he was speaking.

He turned and with Crampton and Templeton he left. Arriving outside there was a police people carrier waiting together with three uniformed officers. Crampton was taken on board, his solicitor to his own car as did Pearson.

Arriving at Chester Police Station Sergeant Striker was the duty custody officer, an ex military man he had all respect for the old Colonel but as for his children especially the sons they were as far as he had seen and heard, all loafers.

Solicitor present, in the custody suite, video cameras on and recording, Striker kept to the book.

Reading from the forms, getting them signed and served on the prisoner as required under the terms of the treatment of prisoner in custody rules..

It was these rules all laid down in the now infamous Police and Criminal Evidence Act. Infamous as far as old coppers were concerned a charter for criminals was another thought. For the prisoners and other accused it was a charter to fair play.

 It was some time before Jack Richards phone rang, he answered immediately.

“Yes Jack is this important, I have just arrested Charles Crampton on suspicion of the murder.

“Have you really?” said Jack not fully surprised.

“Any evidence?” he asked.

“I had to” said Pearson “I need to question him, his brief arrived with Jinton, he was taping everything so my only action was to nick him and interview him here. Gibson is searching the house, what can I do for you?”

“I thought to just ask. In my review I can’t see that you appear to have interviewed any of the old staff, you know, those retired.

“I did interview them” replied Pearson”, “They didn’t know anything so I didn’t include the papers it was all donkey’s years ago, not relevant”.

“I think I might just to like review them it may be worthwhile just in case your current line of enquiry fails or falters.” Insisted Jack

“Well” said Pearson, hesitating. He thought of Jacks` experience, and advice, no tunnel vision, keep all avenues open.

“Yes” he replied, “Ok Jack I will send them over with a traffic car”.

“Thank you” replied Jack; with a smile realising Pearson felt he was a pain in the ass.

Maybe he was, maybe not, time would tell if Crampton was the killer then he had been a pain in the ass, but what if Crampton was innocent?”

At Chester Police station Crampton was booked in, Templeton was present throughout.

He was then thoroughly searched, including his body cavities, though under protest. His protest was noted on the custody sheet.

His clothing including his footwear being seized for examination.

He was now attired in  one piece white paper overalls.

Stating he took blood pressure medication, but had forgotten to take it, the police surgeon was called.

He fully examined Crampton then certified that he was fit to be detained in police custody. A prescription for medication was issued. This was dispensed locally.

The custody officer Sergeant Striker noted this on the cell notice board; medication would be supplied as required.

Crampton s logging in had taken so long that he had been in custody for four hours without a rest or break.

He was removed and placed in the cells then given a meal and warm drink, a newspaper to read and instructed on how to press the emergency bell.

To comply with the Police and Criminal; Evidence Act it was not possible therefore to interview Crampton until the following day.

Mr Templeton was informed but was already aware and so accepted this.

Sergeant Striker the Custody Officer put Crampton on suicide watch.

An officer was therefore delegated to sit outside the cell making an entry every fifteen minutes that Crampton had been visited and all was in order.

The last thing Striker now wanted after his recent disciplinary appearance was to have a death in custody on his watch.

The necessary instructions were explicitly given to those constables on cell watch.

The advice being given out of sight or sound of the security video camera in operation.

The officers working in two hours stint were made quite clear by Striker as to what was expected of them.

In any event he was the custody officer. Years of experience of any police sergeant were that if anything went wrong it was always the fault of the sergeant. Never of the inspector or above, Such was the advantage of wearing a white shirt of inspectors and above and not a blue one issued to sergeants and constables.

It was ten o’clock that night when Anne and Jack were sitting after dinner, she was knitting, he contemplating.

Their solace was broken when the news reader announced that one Charles Crampton had been arrested on suspicion of murder in the cases now known locally as the Crampton family murders.

Initial reports were that Crampton was denying any involvement in the murders and according to his solicitor, Mr Timothy Templeton. “His client Mr Crampton was merely assisting the police in their enquiries”.

PART FOUR

THE RIGHT OF SILENCE

Sunday the 5
^th
of May 2013

The following morning at five thirty Sergeant Tom Striker walked through Chester City centre heading for only one destination, the city police station.

 The city centre was silent. The odd council workman was brushing the last of the streets emptying the last of the bins.

There was no sign of the crowds of tourists, mostly Chinese and other Orientals who descended upon the ancient city every day.

This caused him to reflect that when his next annual leave was due, if he could afford it on his reduced pay from Inspector to Sergeant, the place in the world to visit for some peace and quiet would be China.

Reputed from statistics to be the most populated country on earth in view of the numbers of Chinese folks he witnessed on a daily basis, the country must be desolate and just the place to go for some rest and relaxation. Possibly a quiet stroll along the great wall he had learned so much about in his school days all those years ago.

Arriving in the locker room he removed his civilian coat revealing his uniform bearing his sergeant’s stripes. He had forgotten the Chevrons he once sported when an inspector, well almost.

He paraded for duty precisely at a quarter to six, just as regulations stipulated.

Walking into the parade room there was no one to be seen. He looked at his watch. He would kick the arse of anyone late for duty on the early turn.

The night shift on the other hand should have been around; possibly they were all watching that bloody television or playing snooker upstairs in the police club.

He walked into the cells passage. The uniformed constable supervising the prisoner Crampton was still in situ as directed. The only thing was the officer was fast asleep.

Striker walked passed him and was about to shake the officer with an almighty rollicking,

He happened to glance to the left, looking down through the cell hatch he saw Crampton standing but spinning around at a ridiculously fast speed in a circle.

His face was turning blue, his eyes almost closed and fixed as he spun around. There was something rammed into his mouth and nose.

Striker guessed the reason, he had seen it before. He ran into the sergeant’s office opened the key cupboard, and then ran back to the cells.

Arriving in the cell passage again he pushed the seated and sleeping officer so hard he fell off his chair causing him to howl in shock, waking up on the stone tile floor.

Striker opened the cell door and called, Wason, “Get in here you lazy bastard, get in here and help”.

As Striker entered the cell he pressed the emergency alarm button. Immediately there was a loud claxon which sounded throughout the police station. He thought “it was so loud the bloody Chief herself would be awoken by it”.

Wason got to his feet still half asleep he arrived in the cell.

Striker called, “hold the stupid silly bastard, hold him I say, this is your bloody fault Wason”

“Hold him Wason” Striker repeated, “Before he kills himself taking our jobs and pension with him”.

Holding one arm of Crampton whilst Wason held the other. Striker unceremoniously thrust two fingers and his thumb into the mouth of Crampton and then pulled hard back. As he did so his fingers were holding a mass of screwed up toilet tissue.

This retrieved; he then pulled the rest from the prisoners` nose.

There were shouts and the sound of foot steps approaching.

Striker then slapped Campton’s` face several times calling, “wake up, come on you bastard, breath.”

“What the hell is happening?” called the night Sergeant Eric Smith.

“You tell me Smith” shouted Striker “where the hell were you and this lot, Wason, here asleep and no bugger around?”

Crampton came to his senses was breathing and thus the colour returned to his face.  The immediate emergency was over.

Striker furious but relieved, called, “Don’t just stand there Smith, you idiot call the police surgeon out”.

“What was your bloody game, Mister Crampton?” he asked now crouching down at the side of the prisoner.

 “What the hell were you trying to do?”

Finally Crampton spoke, “I can’t stand it in here, I haven’t done anything”.

“Well” said Striker, now calm, “his arse no longer going half a crown sixpence” quoting the old phrase, slang for in and out with shock.

“You have nothing to worry about then have you Mr Crampton. When your brief gets here he will advise you. Until then sip the cup of bloody water good old Constable Wason is about to go and get for you aren’t you Wason?”

“Yes sergeant Striker” he replied and literally ran off to comply with the request, no order.

Things now calmed down. Striker put two officers from the early turn onto prisoner watch, both seated outside the cell, the door of which was left open.

All now awaiting upon the arrival of the police surgeon. Sergeant Eric Smith was still in shock from his own crime of leaving his post. Confirming he had despatched a car to collect the doctor to save time.

 “And his own arse” thought Striker.

The emergency over, the medic having been and gone. Crampton was certified fit to remain in custody.

 Sergeant Eric Smith and Constable Wason late leaving off duty, all including Striker were in the charge office.

Striker reached for the custody sheet and recorded the incident in full.

On looking up he saw Smith and Wason looking on with grim faces.

“Was there any need for that?” asked Smith.

“You damn right there is a need for it.” Said Striker adding

“I will tell you how it is; I have seen it all before”

“A Prisoner on suicide watch.”

No other means to kill himself so he stuffs toilet paper into his gob and up his snot box to cut of all oxygen. Then he spins in a circle to disorient himself, he suffocates and dies”.

“You bugger off upstairs, leaving this dozy dumb, ass alone to fall asleep.”

“You know full well who Crampton is, the contacts he has from the Palace down”.

“The rest of the bloody family murdered and he dies in here due to negligence by us”.

 “For Christ’s sake, the biggest set of murders ever been committed here of the most influential people, the whole bloody world and their dogs looking on and the last or one of the last of the family dies here whilst locked up. You bet your damn life there is a need to record it all".

“Well I suppose we are both in deep shit” replied Smith.

“Well Smith as you know I, good old Striker, have just been up before the lady at the big house. Can you imagine I want to go again and lose my stripes, job and pension because of your bloody laziness and ineptitude”?

Smith and Wason said nothing further but turned away.

In the civilised world of the United Kingdom, the whole fabric of society operates between the hours of nine o’clock in the morning until five o’clock in the afternoon Monday to Friday.

So it was when Inspector Blewitt arriving for duty, walked into the custody room at Chester Police Station.

 Checking the prisoners in custody through the hatches then turning the corner seeing the two uniformed officers sitting outside Crampons` cell, he guessed there had been developments.

He walked down, looked inside the cell and was relieved to see Crampton sitting reading a newspaper.

At his side was an empty paper plate and polystyrene cup. “At least he is safe and well and has had his breakfast that is something” he thought

He looked at the two officers on guard duty but said nothing, just turned and walked back into the charge room.

Reading the custody sheet. Crampton would soon be due to have his continued detention reviewed.

Turning the page his eyes became as large as his open mouth when he saw the entry made by Striker as to the attempted suicide.

“Striker” he bellowed, “what the hell is this? Jesus wept, get in here”.

Striker arrived pen in hand, “yes sir” said he.

“I just read this entry what the hell has been going on”.

It was self survival now thought Striker and replied “Just as it says sir, I found the incident when I walked in. I have also typed out a form A30 with all the circumstances, I will give it you”.

“Christ yes, I will have to update Chief Super Jinton, he will update the Chief.  What a bloody palaver”.

“Then the brief will be here with more bloody questions”

 “Not to mention next week, once headquarters hear of this, bearing in mind who, Crampton is, we will have the bloody Gestapo here”.

He was of course referring to the force complaints and discipline department poshly referred to in slang as the Gestapo. These days correctly known as The Force Standards Department.

The same as everything else in the police these days, posh names and titles but in reality an excuse for doing bugger all.

The department was normally staffed by young officers of the rank of Inspector and above. Little police experience, no or practically no outside experience dealing with the dregs of society ordinary coppers deal with. They then descended on a police station  having received a complaint and nit picked on anything and everything to justify their existence.

Striker recalled from his own experience how these officers operated.

They ask the question, you simply answer what they ask. If you ask they look up say “I ask the questions, you are here to answer”. Speak to rank and file officer like something on the bottom of their shoes.

He recalled when he was a young officer how one such officer, then an inspector was particularly obnoxious.

This was noted and one night when he had left the department he had been to a function, had some drinks and then on looking in his rear view mirror he saw blue flashing lights followed by sirens.

The marked police car overtook him, revealing another behind. The first car had pulled in front thus the off duty officer was trapped.

He was given a breath test, it was positive. He was arrested and locked up.

All the senior ranks realised it had been a revenge set up, but facts were facts his reading was over the top. He was done with the rest.

Blewitt signed the sheet then walked to his office reporting the incident to Chief Superintendent Jinton, who said nothing except “Thank you, Inspector”

Blewitt was certain that the Chief-Constable would be fully aware within five minutes.

Pearson arrived and on walking in Striker updated him; he shook his head and replied.

“He is still alive then and fit for interview?”

“Yes on both counts” replied Striker who turned and left.

Arriving in the CID office Pearson was joined by his sergeant Jonathon Gibson.

At ten o’clock the phone rang Gibson answered.

“CID Gibson” adding, “Ok we will be right there”.

He turned and said, "Sir, Tim Templeton, Crampons` brief has arrived, the review is due so we ought to get on".