The Big Smoke

In my year covering the stories behind park benches, I’m thankful for the many contributions I’ve had from eagle-eyed readers (not to mention more surreal requests like ‘where can I find a reasonably priced bench on Hampstead Heath?’) Yet nothing piqued my curiosity as much as the strange case of Croy Devenish-Phibbs.

Last September, an email arrived from reader Ben Spedding: 'Has anyone contacted you about a plaque on a scruffy looking bench near the reservoir in Dartmouth Park? It had a weird inscription (“Winter Devenish-Phibbs liked to have everything just so”) and the plaque was at a lop-sided angle, but it's now vanished.' Feature continues

Curious enough, I’m sure you’ll agree. Then, ten weeks later I received another from Simon Jones in south London: 'I saw this inscription in a rough park in Wandsworth: "You’re born, you’re dying, you’re dead. If your relatives are cheap they get you a bench. Monty Devenish-Phibbs 1847 – 1910”.'

Surely the best inscription, ever, but who were these Devenish-Phibbs? And, yes, it had to be a hoax, but one grey November morning the dog and I headed down to the park, behind Malva Close, in Wandsworth to check for ourselves. Quelle surprise: a few benches, but none with a Phibbs inscription. Monty, like Winter, had vanished.

Back home, I discovered Croy’s “official” website (www.croydevenishphibbs.co.uk), a veritable goldmine of humour, and learnt that he purports to be a '103-year-old silver surfer' offering rewards for information about his family’s memorial benches. I emailed asking him about the Monty bench, adding that the project was 'a great hoax'.

It took a week for his response: 'Firstly, I apologise for the delay, I only access the internet during my Silver Surfer course on Wednesdays. The reward for Monty's bench has already been claimed but I’m happy to give you some information. Monty was my grandfather's brother's son, a notorious curmudgeon, which he claimed stemmed from his job as a children's entertainer. His wife Modesty said that despite his grumbling, and his incessant bah-humbugging, his heart was in the right place. Personally, I'm not sure that being anatomically-correct is much of a testament to a human being, but there you are.'

So far, so funny. He continued: 'I’ve never heard of Time Out magazine, but you're welcome to the story. Also I'm not entirely sure what you mean by a hoax. As I explain on my home page I'm appealing for information about any of the hundreds of Devenish-Phibbs around Great Britain and sending out rewards for people who pass on details and photographs. Winter is beginning to take its toll and three residents have died in recent weeks. There's a rather macabre sense that The Bingo of Eternity is in session – whose number will be called next? With warm regards, Croy Devenish-Phibbs.'

Beautifully written; perfectly droll. One razor-sharp centenarian. A regular email correspondence followed, but every time I asked who was behind all this, or to speak to 'Croy' on the phone, he would brush me off with an (admittedly humorous) joke: 'Gary, who runs our Silver Surfer course, has given us a very stern warning about sending phone numbers over the internet. It seems that in the second week of the course there was an incident with Edith and some Nigerians and this rather reinforced his message.'

No closer to unmasking him, I emailed a photographer named Nicolette Wells who had snapped a plaque for Bonnie Devenish-Phibbs on Flickr ('If you can read this you’re less dead than me, Bonnie Devenish Phibbs 1899 -1942'). She responded: 'I didn't believe any of it for a second but after numerous witty emails and a 'reward' I received in the post, there doesn't seem to be any harm meant. But why might someone do a national treasure hunt?'

Who knows? And still the “sightings” continue apace (surf Croy’s website for laugh-out-loud plaques), their irreverent nature ensuring that they are removed, no doubt, whenever spied by the powers that be. A great art project, then – perhaps Croy’s the new Banksy? – but where’s Poirot when we need him? Any clues to benchpoetry@gmail.com.