Cemetery, Crimes & Crumpet

By Sharon Elliott

Book One in the Tymesup Trilogy.
Cemetery, Crimes and Crumpet is a lighthearted novel where Libitina Shelley Holmes, a member of the Perilgate Cemetery staff, becomes a thorn in the side of Inspector Darryl Beech with her nosy intervention upon stumbling across a string of murders in the Necropolis. Who would think a skeletal hand would catch her attention or that a body is found in a crypt before a funeral.
In her off-time Shelley is a home body. reading and watching television, mostly involving crime investigations, with her two feline companions, Watson, and Crumpet. She attends a weekly game of bingo and the club raffles, and she cooks Sunday lunch for her two close friends.

Follow her adventures as she attempts to solve these crimes in the cemetery.

Ebook ISBN 978-0-6458617-1-6
Print ISBN 978-0-6458615-1-8

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sharon Elliott
• Release date: Jan 6, 2024
• ISBN: 9780645861716

Sharon Elliott

About Author After the death of two loved ones in 2017, I began my writing journey with my mother's story which I called Rose – The Last Straw under the pen name Jaime Wren and published through a hybrid publisher called Tellwell Publishing. Following a steep learning curve, I now have a collection of eBooks and print novels under my name: Sharon Elliott, which I have written, designed the covers for, and self-published. I grew up in Sydney, Australia and country NSW then worked in Sydney before moving to the Riverina, then Nambucca Heads on the mid north coast of NSW. I now live in sunny Queensland with my fur family and continue to write. You can follow me on my Facebook Page: Sharon Elliott Author, Instagram; Shazzell4, Pininterest:  Shazza's Books. my Payhip store: SHARONELLIOTTEBOOKSTORE Amazon.com.au Lulu.com bookstore, apple books, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, scribd Draft2Digital: Smashwords, Vivlio, Tolino, Gardener, Everand, Borrowbox Australian National Library and State Libraries

Book preview

Corpse in a Crypt

Chapter 1

My name is Libitina Shelley Holmes, but I go by the name Shelley. Libitina means - wait for it, ‘Roman Goddess of funerals and death’ and you ask why does she work in a cemetery? My name predetermined my destiny.

I am not sure if my parents liked me or wanted me, so I asked my mother why they called me Libitina Shelley Kelly.

We liked the sound of it, was her answer. They were excellent parents, despite their choice of name. My brother had it worse. They called him Richard Hedley Kelly and his nickname was dick head.

Then I married a man named Robert Holmes. May he rest in peace. The police officer who investigated Robert's death was Darryl Beech. He had the nerve to imply I conspired to kill my husband.

Because my name is Shelley Holmes, my nickname became Sherlock. So, in keeping with my nickname, I named the stray black cat that graced my doorstep one Friday the 13th, Watson.

Watson is now seven. He appeared from no-where on an anniversary of my husband's death. My husband and I were good together for 25 years, but we could not have children.

Watson and I often watch Who done it TV and read murder mysteries in our spare time, making us knowledgeable in that department.

A friend gave me my other cat, Crumpet, a year or two after my husband died, to keep me company. She is twelve and has pretty tortoise shell markings and loves to join me for breakfast, where she nibbles on a small piece of crumpet lathered in butter. That is how she got her name. This is our morning ritual. As you will see, I am a creature of habit.

I have been working at the Perilgate Cemetery for seven years now. It is a large cemetery with a crematorium in the city of Tymesup.

You would think it is a depressing place to work, but it is quite the opposite. My fellow work mates have a wicked sense of humour, and if you overlook the headstones, the grounds are serene, with trees, grass, gardens and some wildlife. There is very little life in the cemetery except the occasional rabbit and plenty of birds. Speaking of flying, you won't find me anywhere near the place after dark when the residents come out to play and do their Michael Jackson Thriller dance. I could probably handle Casper and his friendly friends, though.

I often walk in my lunch break and nothing unusual has occurred for the past six years. This year, for some reason, I stumbled upon dead bodies.

You might consider this a normal hazard of working in a cemetery, but usually the dead bodies that are in coffins or caskets with their cause of death already determined.

They were not the bodies I stumbled across. The ones I encountered were of the freshly dead variety and in relatively good shape compared to the other residents.

I was reintroduced to Darryl Beech when I stumbled upon the first suspicious death in a string of deaths.

Chapter 2

Another Monday at my desk, I battled my Mondayitis and got back in the swing of things. I liked my job as I enjoyed behind-the-scenes administration and set goals for myself for each day, finishing as much of my day's workload as I could. Mondays required some mental adjustment on my part.

While on my lunchtime stroll, I observed two groundsmen preparing for a crypt interment, and there appeared to be some confusion.

Hello boys, is there a problem? I called them boys as they were half my age.

Hi, Shelley, yes, you could say there is a problem. We opened the crypt yesterday and today there is someone in there.

Was the person placed in the crypt by mistake?

Ahhhhh, no. Not in this case. It seems someone intentionally placed him here and is in relatively good nick except for the hole in his chest, and he has not graced a funeral home as yet.

Did someone murder him?

It looks like this chap was shot. I peered around the boys to see a man who looked to be in his forties, dressed in an expensive suit with an additional hole in the chest area.

Have you checked for a pulse?

No way. I'm not touching him.

Here I'll do it. What wimps! I reached in and felt his neck. Lucky for me, they put him in feet first. Yep, definitely dead.

Yeah, we thought as much.

When is the funeral? We may need to organise another crypt space because I am sure the authorities will not want this one disturbed. My detective skills have kicked into gear.

Later this afternoon.

Righto. I’d better get to the office to call the authorities and tell our boss we have an unauthorised interment.

That is okay. We dispatched one of the boys a few minutes ago.

Well, I will continue on then. As if I could continue my leisurely stroll (or supposed brisk exercise for health benefits) when there was some real action happening.

These crypts are above ground buildings with marble fronts. I take the fronts off for coffins to be slid inside before they put the front panel back in place. A monumental mason inscribes a memorial.

Chapter 3

I walked as quickly as I could back to the office. Not wanting to miss anything. Our boss was talking to one of the customer service officers about the change in plans.

Steve, can you tell me who is being interred in the crypt today and which funeral director they used?

The deceased is a Mrs Ada Camaioni and Omega Funerals are co-ordinating the service. Here are the details. He handed our boss a sheet of paper.

Thanks Steve.

What an appropriate name for a funeral home. Omega means The End. As for Camaioni, Cannelloni is easier to remember. I never understood why they are called funeral homes. They weren't very inviting to live in and the residents were only temporary.

"You are back from lunch early, Shelley. Just as well, we have a situation that needs attending to."

"I came across the situation you mentioned while out for my stroll. Have you rung the authorities?"

Yes, an Inspector Darryl Beech is on his way.

*

I knew a Constable Darryl Beech. He interviewed me in relation to the death of my husband. He was about my age, tall, with broad shoulders tapering down to slim hips and long legs. His eyes were grey, but I never saw him smile. That was over eighteen years ago. He was a constable back then and now he is an inspector.

You see, I witnessed my husband Robert’s death. He died at home and there needed to be an investigation to rule out foul play, by me of all people. Jack, our friend, was there consoling me at the time and Officer Beech looked at us both suspiciously, implying we were involved with each other. I was at the kitchen window when my husband fell from the sky, past the window, to the ground below.

My husband, Robert, had fallen from the roof of our two-story home and died on impact. Concrete will do that! Officer Beech interviewed me for hours. As if I could climb a ladder up two storeys, when I am afraid of heights, walk across the roof, then man-handle my husband to the edge! What was he thinking? At the time, I was inside cooking.

The officer wanted to know if Robert had a life insurance policy and whether I was to inherit a substantial sum of money. They call this a motive. As far as opportunity, well, sure I was home, but no way would I climb a ladder two storeys. I might now work in a cemetery and have a black cat, but even back then I wasn't going anywhere near a ladder on Friday 13th, and neither should my husband. I swear the constable was treating me like a criminal.

After completion of the investigation, the constable cleared me as a suspect (reluctantly; I am sure) and Robert's death was determined to be an accident.

*

Inspector Beech and a forensic team arrived at the cemetery office, and I took in the tall inspector's older features. He was still a good-looking man and there was no sign of a wedding ring. He was probably still a grump. Not that I am looking for a husband. I drove him to the crime scene while my boss frantically called Omega Funerals to delay the funeral or arrange a different crypt.

Have we met before? The Inspector was studying my face.

Yes, we have. About eighteen years ago, when you accused me of my husband’s death.

Oh yes, Robert Holmes, the man who fell off the roof.

Yes, that’s right.

I pulled to the curb. This is where the body is, Inspector.

He opened the car door and walked to the crypts as the forensic team emerged from a separate vehicle. I turned off the engine and followed them across to the crypt. There was only one groundsman, Joe, guarding the site from stickybeaks like me.

Who discovered the body and at what time? Darryl started asking Joe. I strained to hear them from my discrete location.

We opened the crypt yesterday and two of us returned at noon today to prepare for an interment later this afternoon when we discovered the body inside.

The inspector took down Joe's details and that of John, who was also present.

Did anyone touch the body?

Yes, Shelley checked for a pulse.

Shelley? What was she doing here?

She was passing by at that time. Joe added as he pointed to me.

Bugger! I was trying not to be noticed while I gathered information, but I guess my cover just got blown.

How convenient. The inspector raised an eyebrow as he looked my way, What were you doing way down here, Mrs Holmes?

I generally take a brisk walk during my lunch break and, for no reason, headed this way.

No reason, you say.

Yes, inspector. No reason. I huffed. Don't say you think I had something to do with this! How absurd.

No. Not at all. Since you were here for no reason, did you see anyone driving or walking away?

I didn't. Joe replied.

Well, I saw a white Kia Cerato leaving the area with a woman and man in his forties driving.

Can you give me any more details? Did you get the number plate by any chance?

Yes, the number plate was Grumpy Old Man. I looked directly at the inspector.

Pardon me?

Oh, did I say that aloud? I mean GOM 987. Of course, I said it aloud.

Are you always so observant?

I notice number plates.

A forensic person interrupted. There is no identification on the body.

All the in situ photos had been taken, and the body removed from the crypt. They inspected the area for the murder weapon and other evidence, then placed crime scene tape around the area.

The inspector and the forensic team were finished and ready to leave, so I drove the inspector back to his car at the office. It tempted me to let him walk!

Returning to my desk, my boss approached me. Omega Funerals are unable to locate the son who organised the funeral, so it looks like the funeral needs to go ahead. We will place the deceased in a temporary crypt and move her to her rightful resting place when the police finished and remove their tape. We might have to jump through some hoops with authorities to move things around.

The joys of cemetery management. There are multiple pieces of legislation and local council, state and federal authorities to deal with.

Such legislation to plough through covers burials, cremation, and exhumations. Additionally, the Australian Heritage Commission is involved in preserving the old chapel on the grounds, and there is threatened species legislation that needs to be considered.

I checked the time and excused myself to attend Mrs Cannelloni’s interment. A perk of the job!

I walked with my boss to the service as he wanted to make sure there were no issues with the change.

While there, I mingled with the attendees.

Have you known the family for long?

Yes, I watched their children grow up alongside my own.

Who are the children? Are they here?

Over there is Alessandra and her husband and there is the other sister, Bianca and her husband. I can't see the son Luca, which is strange. Over there is Ada's sister and her brother-in-law is over there. She was a lovely lady. We will miss her. The lady sobbed.

I returned to my administration duties and thought about the crime.

Hector, should we give the inspector the details of the crypt the body was in?

Good idea, Shelley. Can you drop it off on the way home? Hector, my boss queried.

Sure.

Hector and I were born under the same star sign. We understand each other and have a good working relationship.

After work, I went back to the crime scene and scanned the area for any evidence the techs may have missed.

With my phone, I took photos of tyre tread marks left in the soil and scanned the area. I found a hankie half buried from foot traffic. I put on the gloves I had in my pocket and gingerly picked it up and placed it in a plastic bag I retrieved from the car. Well done, Sherlock!

Chuffed with my find, I made my way to see Inspector Beech.

Is Inspector Beech in?

I will check. Your name?

Shelley Holmes.

"What was that? You didn't say Sherlock Holmes, did you? Yeah funny!

No. I said Shelley.

Sorry. Just a moment. His lips were twitching as he turned away.

He walked to a back office. Inspector Beech lifted his head and looked in my direction. Then he grimaced, dragged his chair back, rose to his feet and walked toward me.

How can I help you, Mrs Holmes?

I thought you might want the information regarding who owns the crypt space, and I took these photos of tyre treads. See.

The inspector rolled his eyes. Mrs Holmes, we don't need the tyre tread photos. Forensics collected all they need, but thank you. We followed up on the number plate you mentioned, and it wasn't relevant. Well, I think it applies to a particular inspector .. grumpy old man!

I also found this lady's hanky this afternoon.

Where was it?

Close to the crypt.

I doubt a woman did it. She wouldn't be able to lift the body into the crypt. You mentioned there was a funeral there this afternoon. It probably belonged to one of those present.

She might have been an accomplice.

Thank you, Mrs Holmes. I will take the hanky, but we have the investigation under control. Well! I was only trying to help!

"Did you know the son who organised the funeral wasn't at the funeral?