‘The man in the box has a few things to say’

While most people find peace in their twilight years, many go to the grave wishing they’d given family and friends a piece of their mind. Others hire William Edgar to do it for them.

Private investigator and ‘Coffin Confessor’ William Edgar is paid to talk on behalf of the dead. Picture: Russell Shakespeare

William Edgar has in his possession a letter that could reveal a serious crime. It could also be blank.

But no one will know until the day the person who wrote it is no longer alive and Mr Edgar reads it at their funeral.

It’s an odd way to confess a crime, but it’s nothing unusual for the man known as the “Coffin Confessor”, who has, for the better part of four years, revealed the “deepest and darkest secrets” of the dead.

While most people find peace in their twilight years, many go to the grave wishing they’d given family and friends a piece of their mind, Mr Edgar says.

“And they don’t know me but their closest family members are not to be trusted to do what they want done at their own funeral,” says the 53-year-old Gold Coast private ­investigator turned spokesman for the dead.

“Some people have done their own eulogies and they know they’re not going to get played at the funeral because they’re too confronting … but this is more ­exciting.”

Some of his best jobs – including revealing to a bikie gang their comrade was gay or telling a dead man’s best friend he knew about the several advances he had made ­towards his wife – are detailed in his new book, The Coffin Confessor, which was published on Friday.

Revealing his dead client knew of those advances fetched a healthy sum of $10,000 for Mr Edgar, beginning a strange but fruitful side job.

BOOK EXTRACT: The Coffin Confessor

“Excuse me, but I’m going to need you to sit down, shut up, or f. k off. The man in the box has a few things to say,” he shouted as he interrupted the supposed friend’s eulogy.

Not everyone is happy when Mr Edgar stands up mid-service and begins his speech.

“Sometimes the crowd will say, ‘that was a bit harsh’. Then I’ll say, ‘well listen, do you want to hear what your loved one has to say?’

“There’s been confrontation, but once you get the crowd on your side you’re pretty right. They always want to hear.”

While the confessions can be confronting, it’s not all doom and gloom.

“My most recent message was delivering flowers and a gift to a gentleman on his anniversary that was actually five weeks after his lady had passed,” Mr Edgar says.

“And it was a very beautiful moment because he had been grieving and then all of a sudden out of the blue something comes like this and he gets this beautiful long letter. It was magical.”

 The job has taught him a thing or two about what people would like by their side in death. If you’ve ever wanted to dial a dead person’s phone, Mr Edgar’s ­advice is don’t.
 “Believe it or not, people want their phones taken with them. The most requested item would be the mobile phone,” he says.

“When I go I want fireworks in my coffin.”

For the gay bikie, that request was larger; he was buried with his Harley Davidson motorcycle.

Beyond the confessions, the sledges and the family feuds, Mr Edgar believes his role shines the spotlight on a greater issue.

“I guess the most important thing about my job and what I do is that we’re opening (the door on) issues of elder abuse,” he says. “There seems to be a lot of elderly people who are just left on their own and then family members, those close to them, become vultures.”

The whole operation has also left Mr Edgar considering the best way to leave this Earth.

“I’m also thinking more people should be more selective with what they’re leaving behind,” he says. “Is it best to leave nothing, to get rid of everything you’ve got and just live a great life to the end and just go?”