“No need for Inquests, here Sir, see the Pathologist ticket. She will make her full report to the Coroner who I have no doubt will issue death certificates for both officers. I will just wait to get confirmation and that will be the end of it.”
“Bad show Jock a very bad show; I have been in touch with the force welfare officer who is visiting both next of kin and will assist to arrange the funerals and of course the costs”.
The following Monday morning at 8am Clemance Roberts known as “Clem”, Coroners officer for Wrexham arrived as usual in the control room seeking to know if he had any business.
When he picked up his briefing pad and opened it, he exclaimed “Christ almighty Ifor Evans is dead, well now look you there is a shock now isn’t it”.
“Hello Roberts you have seen it then” it was Chief Super Morris Jones. “A bad business, such a young bloke it should be interesting to find out, what the hell happened to him.”
“Preliminary reports suggest it was natural causes, certainly no outward signs of foul play, I will leave it with you Roberts, keep me updated”.
“I certainly will sir”.
“Oh Clemance”, came the melodious voice of April the communications room assistant.
“Yes April?” said Roberts.
“Just to let you know we have contacted the Coroner last night and he authorised the PM and for Dr Rees to do it. He has telephoned early today and confirmed he will do it first in the circumstance so expect him just after 9am.”
“Well done April, I will get up there forthwith”.
He left and arrived at the hospital. As he parked, he saw the head porter Ralph Edwards standing waiting at the Mortuary door and waving to him.
Clem locked his car went over and called “Has he woken up Ralph”?
“Now, Clem none of that, no, he is dead alright, even smiling to look at him”.
“I was just waving to tell you we have him out and ready, there are two more, only hospital not coroners cases.”
“Doc Rees has telephoned to say he will do the copper first so that you can update the powers to be it may save a lot of fuss for nothing”.
“You are right on the ball Ralph, I am very much obliged.”
In the Manchester police control room, Hilda Milburn was desperately trying to raise Constable Rick Masterton; she had been calling him for over ten minutes.
He was needed back at the stables the vet was due in half an hour to check out his police horse, Spike.
Miss Paris France was oblivious to this she was more concerned that Patch her German Shepherd had his morning run before it was time for her to get back to meet the decorator. It had taken months to get one; they were all booked up in spite of the supposed recession.
“Come back Patch, don’t you dare jump at that police horse; you will have both of us locked up”.
“She hastily ran down, took hold of Patch and secured him on his lead.
“That is strange” she thought a police horse and no officer perhaps he or she had gone off to look at something or she hesitated and now began to laugh perhaps the copper had taken short and was somewhere in the bushes.
She walked on around the great Chorlton Lake in south Manchester, a popular place for dog walkers and photographers of birds and the like.
She walked around the other side of the lake the expanse was great. “Patch, will you please come out of that water, I won’t have time to dry you off”.
Patch arrived soaking wet; he stopped and shook causing the remnants of the lake to be deposited on her. She looked up; strange she thought the horse is still on its own?
When arriving back at the gate again the horse was still standing impassively but alone.
At that moment a group of women walkers arrived, she had seen them often they were in rehab after strokes and often walked with their carers as part of their recovery. The whole group stopped peering at the silent and almost motionless horse.
“It’s been there ages on its own,” said Paris.
The crowd of women mumbled and one in the group said
“Poor thing, this can’t be right, perhaps it escaped someone ought to tell the police”.
Paris took the bull by the horns as she walked on, she reached for her mobile phone and suddenly realised she could not recall the 08450 number for the police. “After all” she thought, “it is their horse I don’t suppose they will mind me calling 999”.
“Operator, emergency, which service please, police, fire or ambulance.
“Oh this is Paris France, police please”.
“Hold the line if you would please madam, I will connect you”. Replied the telephone operator.
“Police emergency” was the next the telephone operator heard.
“Ah police. I don’t know if this is going to be a hoax call a lady calling herself Paris France is on the line I will connect her”.
“Ok” replied Hilda now frustrated at not getting Rick or his bloody horse, if it came to that, she often thought the horses were more intelligent than the cops who rode them.
“Police Emergency, how can I help?”
“I don’t know if this is a waste of a call”
“I hope not madam we take these malicious 999 calls very seriously”.
“Oh dear” replied Paris, “in that case I hope I don’t get into any trouble”
“Tell me what you want and I will soon let you know what trouble you are in”, came back Hilda.
Paris now in trembling mode could see the police arriving at her door as she was speaking, worse they were hammering down the very door as they had done with the next door neighbour during a recent drug raid on that house.
“I simply want to say that I am at Chorlton Park and there is a police horse standing here on its own, it’s been here for ages”.
“There is no sign of anyone with it. I thought I had better call in and I just can’t recall the ordinary number.”
“Don’t worry madam you won’t get into trouble, thank you for your call we will check it out. Your address please?”
“Six the Terrace, Chorlton Green”. Replied Paris relieved it seemed there would be no raid on her house after all.
“Thank you madam” said Hilda and put down the phone.
“Inspector Horrocks, you need to hear this”
“Yes Hilda what is it, I was just going to see the Super can’t you handle it”
“Well I can but I think you ought to know, a lady has just made a three nines reporting a police horse standing on its own at Chorlton Park and I haven’t been able to raise Rick Masterton the jockey for some time.”
Inspector Horrocks stopped in her tracks and returned, thought and then said, “Is the chopper up?”
“Not at the moment” replied Hilda.
“Get it up forthwith and tell them to get over to Chorlton Park”.
“This smells. I will go and see the Super and will update him, if there is anything in it?” Let me know”.
“Jesus who is that you can’t stop for a brew or a pee unless some Looney wants you, Hello, Max Grimshaw Manchester police helicopter pad, who is this?”
“Hello Hilda, what now?"
“Max can you get over to Chorlton Park Lake, we have a three nines a report that a police horse standing on its own with no sign of Rick Masterton the jockey and I haven’t been able to raise him for nearly an hour now”.
“Leave it with me Hilda I will get over there now, come on George we have a shout”.
It was less than ten minutes when the helicopter marked police was hovering over the lake.
“Jesus”, cried George “the vicar” Thomas, so nick named for he replied Jesus Christ to almost everything. “Down there” he continued, “a yellow coat in the water, get the Chopper down it’s near the side I think I can reach it”.
The helicopter descended and simultaneously Hilda got the call, no frills and bullshit procedure