No Body Like Me : The 24th Murray Barber P. I. Case

By Julie Burns-Sweeney

No Body Like Me
Case 24
Murray Barber is a private investigator with a difference, he can hear the dead speak. Along with his friend Jeff, from C.I.D. and the ‘late’ Jake Kelly, he solves a number of cases.
The occupant of a hearse takes a ride with Murray and offers him the chance to be as rich as a king! Can Murray resist? Can he solve the riddles and find the treasure or will danger block his path? Is Robert Anderson just a boring accountant and will Steven Corstone prove his blood ties to an inheritance? Churchyards, towers and mysterious stones entwined in a family tree…

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: May 29, 2017
• ISBN: 9780244610753

Book preview

No Body Like Me : The 24th Murray Barber P. I. Case

NO BODY LIKE ME

THE 24TH

MURRAY BARBER P.I.

CASE

By

Julie Burns Sweeney

Copyright 2017

Published by: Lulu.com

ISBN: 978-0-244-61075-3

CHAPTER ONE

Murray couldn't claim to be the best birthday present shopper on the planet but at least he hadn't forgotten his own mother's birthday! He gave himself a mental pat on the back as he glanced at the book token sticking out of his wallet on his passenger seat. He turned out of the city car park into the busy traffic. He found himself staring at the back of a hearse. An occupied hearse at that. A quick glance in his mirror told him he hadn't jumped into the middle of a funeral convoy! However, to his left he could see an empty escorting car waiting to change into his lane, he pulled back allowing it room to maneuver in front of him and join the hearse.

They're on their way to pick my family up. A man's voice calmly explained from his passenger seat. Murray glanced sideways without moving his head. Did he really want to deal with this? Maybe he could just pretend he couldn't hear the dead man sat next to him? I say 'family'. It's only my wife and daughter. A few friends will be at the service I expect. Probably not many. Murray still didn't speak. What would he say anyway? 'Sorry for their loss'? That's me in there. You gathered that I take it? The man's voice continued. Come on, you're the sixth car I've jumped in. Surely there's someone around here who I can get through to?... I can make you rich! There was an edge of excitement in the man's tone now. Murray's eyebrows rose. Ugh…. All I need is one person to finish this. It sounded as though the man had slumped back in the seat.

Finish what? Murray asked without taking his eyes off the road ahead. There was silence for a good minute or two.

Can you actually hear me? The whisper came from right beside Murray’s left ear. If he was heading home, he needed to turn off the main road but he decided to stay with the hearse for a bit longer. Still watching the traffic around him, he let a smile spread across his face.

You mentioned getting rich? He really couldn’t be bothered with trying to explain his ‘gift’ of hearing the dead. He hoped it was now obvious!

You CAN hear me!... Can you see me too?

No. Murray continued to watch the traffic as he followed the hearse and escorting car off the main road and in to a residential part of town. You got a name or do I have to wait and read your tombstone?

Sure I got a name! Do you make a living out of talking to dead people? You know, one of these mediums on the telly?

No. I don’t.

Oh… ok then. You’re a secret ‘spirit whisperer’. The man laughed. I’m Maurice St Clair. Nice to meet you… err…?

Murray. I’m Murray Barber. I’m a private investigator. I just happen to be able to hear you lot on your side talking. And some of you don’t half go on! Murray’s good mood had returned. He had been having a good morning and he was feeling pretty happy inside.

Well it’s nice to meet you Murray. I hope we can do some business together.

Talking of business Maurice… is that French? You don’t sound very French?

I’m not. My mother had a French grandmother or something?

Oh, right. Well, what about this ‘I can make you rich’ thing you mentioned?

It’s an old family bedtime story, I’m sure you know the sort of thing I mean, Dad used to tell me about this treasure his great granddad buried a long time ago…

Oh, something like that it is? Murray’s tone dropped, it was going to be another wild goose chase.

No, no! I’ve found evidence. I know what you’re thinking… I always thought the same… Until my Dad died and had a special message put on his headstone. Then I realised he believed the story.

So, tell me about the special message. Murray pulled up at the end of a quiet road where the hearse and its escorting car had stopped a way up on the right-hand side. As he watched a middle-aged lady and a taller, younger one come out into the street he listened to what Maurice had to say.

It wasn’t words… it’s like a coded message. Not something you would normally put on your grave stone! He always said his great granddad buried this valuable jewel that he found when he was twelve years old. And there was a trail to where it was buried and one day one of us would track it down and be rich like kings. I know… probably just a bedtime story to give us fun exciting dreams! But then as I said, when he died there it was… big as day! In like a long circle, right at the bottom of his headstone, some numbers, an arrow and a ‘t’ or a cross or something. If you want, I’ll show you it. I can tell you where he’s buried.

You mean like a hieroglyph? Murray asked still watching as the hearse drove slowly to the far end of the street with one of the undertakers walking in front.

Yes! Exactly! Maurice almost shouted. So, have I found someone to make rich? Come on, this is a once in a lifetime chance. What do you say?

Murray glanced at the time, it was ten thirty, he gazed out of the window trying to think of something, anything else he had to do that day… No, he had nothing planned.

You don’t want to attend your funeral? He asked with a shrug.

Nah, it’ll only upset me. It’s been a shock for them, my passing so quick like. I don’t want to watch them crying for me.

Ok… What the Hell! Come on then, the sun is shining, why not go on a treasure hunt. Murray glanced at his empty passenger seat and let a grin spread across his face. Where are we going then?

Church of St Wyllow. Lanteglos-by-Fowey.

CHAPTER TWO

Lanteglos-by-Fowey was on the east side of the river, down the back lanes of the sun-drenched Cornish countryside. As they drove