Murder in the Graveyard. Don Hale

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Название Murder in the Graveyard
Автор произведения Don Hale
Жанр Биографии и Мемуары
Серия
Издательство Биографии и Мемуары
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008331634



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      THE VICTIM AND HER FAMILY

      Wendy Sewell

      David Sewell

      John Marshall

      THE MAIN SUSPECT AND HIS FAMILY

      Stephen Downing

      Ray Downing

      Juanita Downing

      Christine Downing

      PERSONS OF INTEREST

      Mr Orange

      Syd Oulsnam

      Mr Red

      Mr Blue (the running man)

      The businessman

      Robert Ervin

      Port Vale

      Chelsea

      Spurs

      DERBYSHIRE POLICE

      PC Ernie Charlesworth

      PC Ball

      Detective Younger

      Detective Johnson

      Detective Rodney Jones

      Detective Superintendent Tom Naylor

      Chief Constable John Newing

      Deputy Chief Constable Don Dovaston

      MATLOCK MERCURY STAFF

      Sam Fay

      Jackie Dunn

      Norman Taylor

      Marcus Edwards

      Matt Barlow

      OTHER JOURNALISTS

      Nick Pryer (Mail on Sunday)

      Frank Curran (Daily Star)

      Matthew Parris (The Times)

      Allan Taylor (Central Television)

      OFFICIALS

      Patrick McLoughlin MP

      CCRC Commissioner Barry Capon

      WITNESSES

      Charlie Carman

      Wilf Walker

      Peter Moran

      Mr Watts

      Mr Dawson

      Louisa Hadfield

      George Paling

      Marie Bright

      Jayne Atkins

      Margaret Beebe

      Ian Beebe

      Lucy Beebe

      John Osmaston

      Rita

      Ms Yellow

      Cynthia Smithurst

      Yvonne Spencer

      Crabby

      Steven Martin

      A: Anthony Naylor’s grave on the lower path where Wendy was attacked, and where Stephen found her.

      B: Sarah Bradbury’s grave where Wendy had moved to after Stephen returned with Wilf Walker, and where she was seen by the workmen.

      C: The consecrated chapel. Jayne Atkins saw Wendy on the path behind here embracing a man.

      D: The spot where little Ian Beebe saw Wendy as he cycled up the middle path.

      E: The unconsecrated chapel used as the workmen’s store.

      F: The Garden of Remembrance.

      G: The Kissing Gate

      H: The Gatekeeper’s Lodge, home of Wilf Walker.

      I: The main cemetery gates.

      J: The phone box.

      K: The back gate to the cemetery through which Jayne Atkins entered and left.

      L: Syd Oulsnam’s van was seen parked here.

      M: Bakewell Methodist Junior School.

      N: The spot where Louisa Hadfield saw the running man going towards Lady Manners School.

      It was a cold, drizzly night in March 1995, and I was working late at the Matlock Mercury office, with no one but my dog Jess for company, when the phone rang. It was a young woman on the other end of the line. She said there was a large fire at a nearby farm, which sounded serious and newsworthy to me.

      I quickly grabbed my gear, cameras and all, and jumped in my car with Jess, who snuggled in her blanket on the back seat as we travelled through the bleak Derbyshire hills in the direction of the fire.

      It was a challenging road at times, snaking its way through a barren landscape and miles upon miles of desperately bleak moorland. The road seemed totally deserted, and I was in an almost dream-like state navigating the deep dips of this roller-coaster track, when suddenly out of nowhere an enormous truck appeared right behind me, with its powerful headlights and a top searchlight burning into my rear-view mirror.

      Dazzled by the lights, I slowed to let it pass, but the truck driver also slackened his speed, and remained directly behind me.

      As I reached the location of the fire, all was calm and there wasn’t even a whiff of smoke. I realised I had been the victim of a hoax. It was time to turn the car round and head for home. I swung into a lay-by, steering in a wide arc, and almost clipped the lorry as it clattered past.

      The darkened cab was now illuminated. The driver appeared to be talking into a CB radio. I pressed down on the accelerator but the lorry was still gaining speed on me, and very rapidly. Jess whimpered softly, so I reached back and patted her head, taking my eyes off the road for a split second – and we almost took off on one of the major dips I subsequently misjudged.