Neptune's graveyard

THE ELDERLY WOMAN seemed dead enough—no breathing, no heartbeat. Yet she appeared so lifelike that a funeral director just couldn't be sure. Her body "looked so natural and so peaceful," said undertaker L'Ray Scott, "just as though she were still alive." In a way, the funeral director's voice comes from the grave. Scott, 61, was killed in a car crash in May. His words are contained in a response to a state complaint, one of at least four lodged against him in the past two years. The complaint, just released by Washington state's Funeral and Cemetery Office, details how Scott took the dead woman's remains and wrapped them in a colored sheet because body bags remind him of Vietnam, auto accidents, and drive-by shootings.

Just in case the woman might revive, Scott let the body sit outside his funeral home's cooler for 24 hours "to be sure." A caregiver for the woman said she had "never seen anything like it" and was traumatized by the ordeal.

Officials say Scott's Tacoma funeral operations had long drawn their attention. "Over a long period of time," Funeral and Cemetery Office manager Dennis McPhee said last week, "Neptune of Washington probably had the most complaints of record."

Despite Scott's 24-hour vigil, the deceased woman in the latest case never drew another breath. And the body ended up in the hands of another mortuary service, which claims Scott "misappropriated" the remains in the first place.

Scott in that and other cases allegedly pretended to be a representative from the low-cost national cremation chain the Neptune Society, according to state documents and Neptune officials. Neptune, which provides Seattle-Tacoma area services from a new home in Everett, is now considering legal action.

Scott, who operated a number of funeral-related businesses including Neptune of Washington, the Neptune Society, House of Scott Mortuary, and L'Ray's Ambulance, said he left the body "unrefrigerated for 24 hours . . . in the best interest of the client."

He may have looked ungainly carrying it to a mortuary cot, he said, because "it's never easy while marching sidestep to achieve graceful, balletlike synchronization." And as for the flimsy sheet, Scott said, he always took "great care in keeping the genital area covered."

Other complaints are detailed in the state's report on Scott. They include a fellow undertaker alleging Scott overcharged for his services (Scott fired back that the competitor was "evil"), and a woman who complained that Scott also draped her loved one in a sheet and, with the deceased's arms dangling, stumbled with the body to his hearse. The state said Scott "could have used a more professional approach."

Scott's miscues reflect badly on their reputation, say officials of the nationally based Neptune Society. They think Scott's Neptune was often confused with their company's name intentionally.

"We have not authorized the 'other' Neptune to operate within the state of Washington, and we are currently in legal discussions with the estate of the user of the 'other' name," says Neptune's CEO David L. Schroeder. Adds Charles Wetmore, vice president of Washington state operations, "There have been other instances of the irate customers of Mr. Scott. They accused us of not filing papers, forms, Social Security numbers, and so on, only to find out they had called the 'fictitious' Neptune."

Though the national chain didn't open its Seattle-area operations until last year, it has "provided simple, dignified, and economical cremation service since 1972," says Schroeder.

However, Scott was somehow able to incorporate his own business in the same name, state records show, in 1985. The national society was unaware of the conflict until its Everett operations began.

"Families would prearrange service with us," says Wetmore. "Then Scott would be notified of the death by mistake. Or they'd sign with him by mistake. Families would call us and say, 'Gee, Mom died last night, where are you?'"

In the latest case, the late woman's caregiver said she thought she was calling the national chain, not Scott. The caregiver called Scott and his helper "Mutt and Jeff," alleging, "They mishandled the body to the extent that one of them stuck his finger in [the body's] mouth."

Scott denied mistreating the remains and contended it was the "other outfit" that had taken the Neptune name from him. He was a conscientious mortician, he said. "The watchword of my operating philosophy is dignity!"

randerson@seattleweekly.com