In the Light of Madness (16 page)

Wednesday told her whilst continuing to poke around the area to see if anything else belonged to the missing boy.

“This doesn’t look good for you,” said Wednesday. “If you have anything to say, now would be a good time.”

“I have nothing to say. I never come up here.”

“Are you implying that your husband may know something?”

“I’m implying nothing of the sort. I’m merely saying that I have nothing to say as I know nothing.”

Nothing else was found. No evidence of food or drink and importantly, no blood that was visible to the naked eye. Wednesday phoned the station to request SOCO come and sweep the attic.

They descended the ladder and went to find Reverend Olong. Vera tapped on the study door then opened it slightly to request access. They found him hunched over the computer with his reading glasses settled halfway down his nose.

“Reverend Olong, we found a school book belonging to Darren Giles in your attic. Do you know how it got there?”

He swivelled round in his chair and removed his glasses that were sliding off his nose.

“A book you say. Why would that be up there?”

“We were hoping you could answer that. It looks like he may have been hiding up there. Do you think it would be possible for him to hide up there without either of you knowing?”

“I’m not sure, but this is a rambling old house that possesses many creaks and groans of its own. To be honest, I spend a lot of my time on parish work in here, which is the furthest away from the attic.”

Vera stood quietly by her husband with her hand planted on his shoulder. “Detectives, we have nothing to hide. If young Darren chose to hide here, perhaps it was because he felt safe.”

“If that was the case, Mrs Olong, then where is he now?”

Wednesday explained that forensic evidence would be gathered shortly and that they may be required to attend the station for an interview.

“Surely that wouldn’t be necessary. You know gossip could do damage to my husband. We’re happy in this village and we want to stay here.”

“We’ll be as discreet as possible, Mrs Olong.”

The doorbell rang, announcing the arrival of SOCO. Vera Olong went to open the door, leaving her troubled husband with the detectives.

“I am truly unaware of how the book got here. There must be a logical explanation.”

“Time is of the essence, Reverend, we need to find Darren. So I’ll ask you again, do you know where he is?”

Reverend Olong shook his head and spread his hands out, palms up.

“We’d like you to remain here, and not venture to other villages, until further investigations have been carried out. If you do think of anything, please contact me,” Wednesday said as she handed him her card.

The sound of sniffer dogs echoed from outside. With everything underway, they decided to go and look at the rambling club hut, to see whether there were any signs of Darren having been there.

“What do you make of our finding?” asked Lennox.

“It’s a step closer to knowing that Darren hasn’t gone far. We need to delve into the reverend’s background now to see what that drags up.”

The weak sun sliced through the semi-naked tree tops, dappling droplets of gold onto the mossy ground. Dogs barked in the distance intermingled with the occasional human shout.

Wednesday loved the sound of the red and orange leaves crunching under foot and it amused her to see Lennox kicking and scattering them around.

“There’s still a child in you,” she said with a little laugh.

“There’s a child in everyone, only some people have disabled themso they are no longer fun.”

They arrived at the hut, and took a look around the outside first, to look for any signs of disturbance.

“No signs of forced entry, let’s take a look inside,” said Lennox as he used the key the reverend had given him, having chosen to lock it following the crimes.

Inside looked the same as before and still smelt of newly sawn wood. The chairs looked as though they had been moved and so possibly used since their last visit.

“We need to check with the rev to see if his rambling group is underway,” Lennox said. “Apart from that, I can’t see anything else here, can you?”

Wednesday shook her head. “I can’t help feeling that our answer lies in the vicarage. Perhaps the forensic guys will come up with something.”

They walked back a different way towards the vicarage and found themselves at an arched gate set in a large evergreen hedge. The gate led into the back garden of the vicarage. Wandering in, they looked around when they saw Alex Green walking toward them.

“I’ve bagged samples to test for evidence, we should be able to get some skin cells or latent prints from the blankets and book. Have you guys found anything else?”

Although shaking their heads, they sensed they were getting closer to Darren Giles. They hoped he had the answer to the link between the two deaths. Wednesday willed the boy to sense they were getting closer to him. To save him or to save others.

Chapter Twelve

Monday morning had the same inevitable lacklustre atmosphere like most Monday mornings, and the lack of major progress in the three cases was not helping the mood in the Major Crime Unit.

Wednesday was sketching a mind map after their visit to the vicarage yesterday, when her mobile rang. It was Scarlett.

“I couldn’t wait until this evening to talk to you, sis. I received this bizarre letter this morning saying there are evil spirits in this village that are working their dark magic. What do think about that?”

Wednesday could hear Scarlett’s voice buzzing with excitement, which was a worry in itself, never mind the anonymous letter.

“Scarlett, this is probably someone’s idea of a joke. However, could you bring the letter and envelope to the station, and try not to handle it too much.”

Scarlett mumbled something then put the receiver down, leaving Wednesday knowing that she was not happy with her lack of enthusiasm or intrigue about the matter.

There was a tap at her door before Alex Green poked his head around.

“Got some findings for you,” he said, entering her office without waiting for her to speak.

“I found some small fragments of gravel at the dead girl’s crime scene that I’ve managed to link to the school grounds. It could be the link you’re looking for.”

“Or it could just be from Claudia’s shoes that she picked up whilst she was in school,” she said as she looked at his youthful features and waited for him to look crestfallen.

“True, but she wasn’t wearing school shoes and I couldn’t find any trace evidence lodged in the soles of the shoes she was wearing, but I take your point.”

“However, Cleveland doesn’t have to know the full picture. Thanks Alex,” she said, picking up the phone and dialling Lennox’s number. “We need to visit Markham Hall to speak to Cleveland again.”

They could detect a note of glee in the voice of the receptionist, Nina Prince, as she told them they had had a wasted journey, as Mr Cleveland had phoned in sick that morning. Undeterred, they decided to visit him at home.

The Victorian building converted into flats looked less ostentatious from the outside than Wednesday had expected. She ran her finger down the residents’ names until she found Cleveland. She rang three times but there was no answer, so Lennox tried a new tactic and just leant on the buzzer without releasing it.

“What,” came a wary voice over the intercom.

“Mr Cleveland, DI Wednesday and DS Lennox, we need to speak with you.” Lennox’s voice resonated with puissance.

“I’m sick, make an appointment with my secretary at the school.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, this is a murder enquiry and unless you wish us to conduct the interview publically, I suggest you let us in.”

There was a pause before the door buzzed and the lock was released.

“Nicely done, Lennox,” she smiled.

The entrance hall was cluttered with bikes and piles of junk mail that no one had bothered to recycle. A row of four mailboxes were fastened to the peacock-blue wall.

Cleveland’s flat was on the top floor, and as they reached his landing he was standing in the doorway waiting for them.

“I’m feeling rather persecuted, Detectives. I hope you have a damn good reason to cause this annoyance.” He coughed and wiped his brow before allowing them to enter. He was dressed in jeans and a polo neck jumper underneath a tartan dressing gown.

The interior of his flat proved to be bland. The walls were painted magnolia on which hung prints of generic country scenes. The curtains were drawn which added to the dreariness. Cleveland had the expected book shelves containing text books and novels, but there appeared to be very little in the way of personal artefacts and photographs. Even his TV was rather small for the size of the room.

“You took awhile answering your door,” remarked Lennox.

“I was in bed ill,” he replied before coughing into a crumpled tissue.

“We found the same gravel from your school grounds next to Claudia’s body.”

He flung himself into a bucket armchair and allowed a smile to drift across his face.

“The gravel may be the same, but you can’t say who got it there; it could have come from Claudia’s shoes after all.”

“She wasn’t wearing school shoes, Mr Cleveland, so it’s another piece of evidence that links the school to the crimes. I suggest if you have anything to say, no matter how trivial, you say it now.”

“Or what, it’ll look bad in court?”

“We’re not trying to trick you, we have two dead students and a missing one all from your school; it doesn’t look good now does it?”

“The word buzzing around the community is that Darren Giles is missing because he had something to do with the deaths,” he said with a smug look on his face.

“You shouldn’t listen to gossip. As a headmaster you should know that.”

Cleveland began a violent coughing outburst making Wednesday discreetly cover her nose and mouth with her hand.

“We won’t trouble you any longer; we can see you are suffering.”

“No doubt I’ll be seeing you again,” he said, his voice muffled by the tissue.

“No doubt,” replied Lennox, giving a mock salute.

They were about to drive off when they spotted Dick Pennymore getting out of his car and slamming the door. Lennox opened his window before lighting a cigarette.

They could see Pennymore ringing a doorbell several times before he stood back on the path and yelled.

“I know you’re in there, Cleveland. Let me in right now.”

It became obvious that Cleveland was not going to let him in, so Pennymore pressed the bell persistently before hammering on the door.

Wednesday and Lennox got out of their car and walked towards him.

“Is something wrong?”

“Detective Wednesday isn’t it,” he replied in a breathy voice, his face red and sweaty. “Nothing wrong, it’s just his bar tab payment is long overdue, that’s all.”

“I see. You seem pretty angry about it.”

“Well money’s a bit tight for everyone at the moment, so I want what I’m owed.”

“I suggest you might come back another time, he’s unwell and clearly doesn’t want any visitors.”

He expelled a lung-full of air before stomping back to his car.

Wednesday sat in her office writing up the day’s report, keen to get out of the station as soon as possible.

“Coming for a drink?” Lennox asked as he peered around her door.

“Sorry, I really must see Scarlett. Another time though.”