In the Light of Madness (27 page)

He believed that Pennymore had something on Des which enabled him to use Des as cheap labour.

“But how do you know he isn’t paying Des a fair wage?” asked Lennox who was feeling they were wasting their time.

“Because I’ve heard him telling people when he sits on the pub wall drinking. I’ve seen him be two-faced about Dick. Nice as pie to his face, then slating him with unsavoury words behind his back.” Cleveland took a large gulp of water and let the liquid moisten his cracked lips.

He continued to hypothesize, telling them he believed Des had killed Tom Dolby when he was round his house; it was well known he had a temper. It was not well known that Judith did too, thought Wednesday to herself.

He went on to say Darren must have been present and so he had to be silenced. He stopped and rested his chin on his prayer-like hands. “So?” he said, as though expecting a round of applause.

“It’s a nice theory but one that we’d already considered. It’s based on fantasy, not fact. You have no substantial evidence for your claims, Mr Cleveland.” Lennox brushed his hand over his hair, all the while maintaining eye contact with him.

“I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Look,” he started as he bent over the table to get closer to the detectives. “I know that Des has been a beater for the shoot Pennymore organises each year; he’d have been aware of the hut in the woods.”

“As would every dog walker in the village,” said Wednesday.

Cleveland paused and looked at the floor, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“You’re no help,” barked Lennox, tired of being strung along by him.

“You two may see me as a worthless mutt. But as a headmaster, I am influential and know people in high places.”

Lennox clamped his teeth together, flexing the muscles in his jaw.

“Detectives, I want protection when I return. I fear Des Wright will harm me.” He leant forward again and stared at them both with a wild look I his eyes.

“We don’t have the resources for that, Mr Cleveland,” said Wednesday. “What I suggest you do is keep your doors locked at all times, only open the front door to people you trust, and call us if he turns up at your house or place of work and threatens your safety. Right, we need to get you back.”

Cleveland sat behind Lennox in the car for the journey back to Cambridgeshire. Periodically, Lennox looked in his rear-view mirror to see Cleveland gazing out of the window with a pensive look upon his face.

He also noticed that Wednesday kept glancing at her watch.

“Do you get on with the teachers at your school,” he asked, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to imaginary music.

“I’m not there to be their friend, but seeing as you ask, yes I do. I command respect from them, even the younger ones.”

They dropped Cleveland outside his home and checked he got in safely before returning to the office.

“Any plans for the evening?” asked Lennox.

“I thought I’d visit my mum then call in on Oliver.”

Lennox made a humming sound in response as he pulled into the station car park.

Wednesday succumbed to eating another chocolate bar from her stash whilst she finishing her paperwork. Periodically, she looked up to see Lennox at his desk generally gazing into space. He had been quiet since their visit to Bethnal Green.

She finished her report before turning off her office light. She was unaware of Lennox staring at her as she walked past his office.

Sitting at his desk in his dimly lit office, he picked up his mobile and made a call. A softly spoken voice answered at the other end.

“I know it’s late, but I wondered if I could call in on my way home?”

“You know you can stay, don’t you?”

Lennox smiled before closing down his computer.

Chapter Twenty

Lennox pulled up outside the house and threw his cigarette butt through the crack in the window.

Scarlett answered the door promptly, dressed in an oversized jumper and faded jeans, with her fiery hair cascading down her back. She smiled as he walked in and brushed passed her.

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m feeling rather defenceless with all that’s going on.”

“Defenceless is not a term I’d use to describe you.”

He followed her into the kitchen where she poured the Bordeaux into two long-stemmed glasses.

“My research is throwing up all kinds of scenarios that could be happening round here.” She gestured for him to sit opposite her before she offered him a cigarette.

She talked about an underlying section of Christians who still believed in exorcism, and if they felt someone had the devil residing within, they had a duty to rid that person of the infliction.

She blew grey smoke towards the ceiling. “Do you think the reverend could be a fanatical freak? He comes across as a quiet and reflective man. Just the type we should be looking out for, according to the web.”

The candle light danced in her eyes as she spoke in her animated fashion, hypnotising Lennox.

“Where does the research say this goes on?”

“Well, so far, it’s mainly found in the USA . . .”

Lennox interrupted her by making a loud snorting noise as he rocked back in his chair. “These crimes took place in a quaint English village. I don’t think we’re overrun with zealous clergymen casting the devil out of un-pure teenagers.”

The wine bottle made a heavy clunking noise as she slammed it down on the table after refilling her glass. “You police are so quick to dismiss anything you haven’t found out yourselves.”

She inhaled then blew smoke in his direction. He refrained from quipping, preferring to maintain a dignified silence. Something he could do when not in a meaningful relationship.

“Okay, Miss Marple, what do you suggest we do? Round up the rev and all the church goers and tell them to leave the devil well alone.” His face was glowing with the combination of wine and mirth at his own brand of humour.

“I didn’t think you wanted to come over to make me look foolish. I thought there was more to you than that.”

Lennox apologised with a smile and told her that they were not closing their minds to any scenario.

“With that in mind then, would it be okay if I shadowed you for a few days. Make my reports more cutting edge, so to speak.”

Lennox suddenly felt a fool for thinking his inimitable charm was the reason she wanted his company. “Why don’t you ask Eva?”

“Because there is such a thing as sibling rivalry. She’s always been jealous of my allure and effervescence. She sees herself as the career woman, and she won’t help me up the ladder for fear that I will be better at that too.”

Lennox sucked in the air so it whistled over his bottom teeth.

“Doesn’t sound like the Eva I know. Anyway, if you shadowed me, you’d be shadowing her too, and I’m sure that would piss her off.”

He was glad he had only had a small glass of wine, as all he wanted to do now was go home and unwind to the sports channel whilst eating the fish and chips he would buy on the way.

As he rose to leave, he thought he saw panic flash across her eyes.

“Please don’t leave me. I’m worried they will get me because of my articles.”

“Eva told me you weren’t taking the threats seriously. Why the sudden change?”

“There are a couple of steaks in the fridge. Why don’t I cook them up for us?” She topped up his glass, and before he knew it, the air was filled with the aromatic smell of steak and black pepper.

Wednesday tipped the crisp packet into her mouth to get the remaining crumbs. She blushed as she caught Oliver watching her.

“Sorry, I’m starving,” she said as she screwed the packet up and put it on the coffee table, where it began to noisily expand and pop.

“I could rustle you up something. Soup and a bread roll perhaps.”

“Please don’t worry. It’s already late, I should be getting home.”

Oliver hoped that if food could not keep her, then gossip may. He was desperate for some adult company that did not involve measuring moods.

“A mutual acquaintance bought another vase from me today. Nina Prince.”

Wednesday frowned. She knew the name but that was all.

“The receptionist at Markham Hall. You’re down there a lot by all accounts.” Whilst he spoke, he took a variety of cheeses and pickles from the fridge, and placed them on the table with a crusty loaf. Wednesday was hooked.

“She’s quite the gossip about what goes on at that school, and she told me a lot. Not realising that we’re related. Certain students seem to rule there, by her reckoning.”

Wednesday was eyeing the food on the table, rather than paying attention to what he was saying. “What were you saying about the students?” she asked, cutting the bread into thick slices.

“There’s an elitist element led by the boys of local businessmen,” he began before cutting off a piece of brie. “She mentioned some names, so as soon as she’d gone, I wrote them down. I thought they might be useful to you.”

He got up and opened a drawer in the welsh dresser, and pulled out an envelope on which he had scrawled the names.

“Ralph Sanders is the son of the golf course owner. James Almond’s father owns the five star hotel and restaurant just outside Cambridge, and Tony Pennymore’s father owns The Crow pub.”

“I didn’t know Dick Pennymore had a son. He seems an unlikely mix with the other two boys,” she said, suddenly sitting upright in her chair.

“I bet it’s got more to do with the kind of business his father has. Alcohol on tap, if you see what I mean.”

“I wonder what goes on with this so-called elite group.” Wednesday said, spraying a few bread crumbs on the table, which she brushed off with her hand.

“I’m not sure; Miss Prince didn’t specify that deeply. But she thinks even the headmaster is afraid of them.”

Wednesday pondered his statement as she opened the jar of pickled onions. “Perhaps we should all be wary of them. Who knows what they can and have done, if the group does truly exist.”

She finished her last piece of cheese and pickle then pushed back her chair to get up.

“Can’t I persuade you to stay a little longer?” he said as he moved to put the kettle on.

“I’m sorry, I’m working all weekend and I need some sleep.” She looked at her watch and saw that it was nearly eleven o’clock. Part of her wanted to stay as she could see he was starved of company. But she wanted to be alert at work. She did not want to give Hunter any reason to say she was not up to the job.

The headlights picked up the droplets of drizzle as they merged on the windscreen, before being erased by the wipers. The noise of the wipers acted like a metronome causing Wednesday to fight the urge to sleep.

Approaching her house, she recognised Lennox’s car parked outside. With a heavy sigh, she pulled up on her drive and switched off the engine.

The house was in almost total darkness, except for a soft glow emerging from the kitchen. She followed the light and found the source; the candles in the centre of the table. She was angry to find them unattended. She then saw the remains of a steak meal on two plates. Tempted as she was to storm upstairs to confront the thoughtless pair, the last thing she needed to see was Lennox in a state of undress.

She felt in need of some comfort, so she put a pan of milk on the Aga to make a hot chocolate, and put some Mahler on the music system. She felt her shoulders relax but her thoughts still remained sharp and focused—she knew they had the answers to the cases right in front of them, they just could not see them.

The chinking of the teaspoon against the sides of the mug masked the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Wednesday had just lit a cigarette when Scarlett appeared at the door.