5

Wednesday 16 July 1986 & after

After the impact, the silence. Then switches clicked, lights lit, sashes

squeaked. Several people dialled 999 and called for an ambulance. The ambulance service alerted the police; PC Sanger in a panda car was close by; first on the scene, his aspirations to become a traffic officer evaporated temporarily. He flashed his torch; the young female person in the metallic mauve Metro must be very dead. He radioed HQ, reported the index mark of the vehicle, called for the fire brigade emergency tender, and expected that the duty inspector would be alerted.

The ambulance arrived: Geoff and Keith; however, the control room had warned PC Sanger to make sure that nothing was moved — and so nothing was moved. Next on the scene was a traffic patrol car; Clive and John debouched, exchanged words with PC Sanger, went to see for themselves, busied themselves setting up flood-lights as the fire brigade emergency tender arrived.

Blue lights rotated relentlessly, monotonously, more and more of them. The circumarboreal residents of Marby were nought but human; there was little sleep with all that blue light activity. Some stayed at their windows; others donned déshabillé and appeared in the street ‘to see if there was anything they could do’ from compassion, helpfulness, or pure curiosity. Those with the right idea supplied the professionals with coffee and biscuits.

Dr Conway arrived on the scene. His wife had placed his casual trousers in too hot a wash, and his pyjamas protruded colourfully; the fire brigade provided access to Chaite; he pronounced her dead and went back home to bed. The fire brigade finished releasing Chaite; such was her state that it took some time for them to twig that there was no left hand to be found. Chaite was extracted by the ambulance crew:

Chaite was borne away in the ambulance with PC Sanger to provide evidence of continuity; he signed her over to the hospital mortuary to await identification and the post mortem.

Clive and John gathered and listed Chaite’s property from the metallic mauve Metro; they were somewhat taken aback to find Chaite’s arm among the detritus on the floor.

The car was lifted on to a HIAB and borne away to the police yard to await daylight examination by an accident investigation officer.

The number of flashing blue lights gradually diminished; the Marby Oak returned to some semblance of normality as dawn broke to the sound of brooms sweeping broken glass. The viewers had long since returned to their beds, but few slept; nevertheless, they reflected not that their lives were a free gift from God ... still believing that accidents happen only to other people.

On interrogation, the police computer traced the metallic mauve Metro to Chaite's address; her landlady was away for the week-end — which was probably just as well. A combination of Chaite's diary and address book led an officer to the more-relevant Cepha and Rupert. Since there was no doubt who the young lady was, and seeing that she was no longer alive, formal identification was deferred until the morning.

Rupert arrived at the mortuary after a desultory non-breakfast, and performed what Colley would have described as ‘his mournful duty’. It was an occasion about which he was never to speak.

Soon after, PC Sanger identified Chaite to the pathologist as the young lady who had been removed from the vehicle in Marby the previous night. Then he left to continue his unquiet day off.

The coroner opened an inquest, and adjourned it for evidence to be gathered; he released Chaite to the undertaker of Rupert’s choice.

The accident investigator examined and probed Chaite's car to no avail; there was nothing suspect on which the police lab could conduct further tests. He released the metallic mauve Metro to the garage of Rupert’s choice. He recorded the fact that the odometer showed that the car had covered 16786 miles at the time of the crash, but did not, in his report, draw attention to the fact that this happened to be the date. He did, however, mention the coincidence to his fiancée that evening. She laughed at him for taking it so seriously. He became even more serious. As the ensuing row reached its climax, she threw the ring back at him and stormed out of his life.

He poured himself a generous tumbler of neat whisky, and consoled himself that he was well rid of someone with so little imagination, thanking God that he had found out before it was too late. Serious as he was, it never occurred to him to wonder at the chain of events which had led to her departure.

In the Coroner’s Court, PC Sanger had his brief moment of glory as the first officer on the scene, and gave evidence that the Chaite who had been removed from the Marby Oak was the Chaite whom the pathologist had examined.

The pathologist reported that he had found no sign of alcohol or drugs, nor pathological condition, nor any other identifiable cause of impairment save the fact that the deceased’s left arm had been amputated some fourteen centimetres below the elbow.

Rupert gave evidence that his sister-in-law had a creditable past and a glowing future; that she had lost her left hand in ‘a domestic accident’ over three years before (and for some reason nobody asked him to elaborate); that she had been driving the Metro for well over a year and he was confident of her absolute competence as a driver — for was she not a member of the Institute of Advanced Motorists? — and, no, he had no reason to believe that she had any worries: she was, in fact, financially well off, and due to start a new job soon.