In the Light of Madness

by Madness, In The Light Of

  Wednesday and Lennox sat opposite the boys, the smell of tobacco seeping from their blazers. It was exactly that repulsive smell that made Wednesday desire to give up.

  “We understand you’re all friends of Claudia Edmonds,” Lennox said.

  The boys nodded whilst nudging one another and suppressing giggles. Cleveland glared at them from a corner of the room.

  “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Yesterday, in class,” replied the lanky blond boy, Ralph, who slouched in his seat at the end of the table.

  “Did any of you see her last night?”

  The boys scuffed their shoes on the floor, eyes firmly cast down. Lennox repeated the question and this time the boy with severe acne on his forehead replied.

  “We were supposed to meet up with her last night, but . . .” he stopped as he was punched on the arm by the boy with the angular face.

  “But what?” asked Lennox, staring at them.

  “Why, what’s she saying about us?”

  Lennox fixed his stare on them. “This is serious. We can meet up with your parents at the station if you prefer.”

  The lanky boy swiftly sat upright with a look of panic on his face.

  “We didn’t see her in the end,” he said in a shaky voice.

  “Come on lads, give us the whole story. Did you go round for some fun, but she refused, is that it?”

  “No,” said Ralph, slamming his palms on the table and glaring at Lennox.

  Cleveland growled Ralph’s name but Wednesday raised her hand to him.

  “Well then, tell us what happened.”

  James and Tony turned to Ralph and widened their eyes. Taking his cue, he inhaled deeply before speaking.

  “Claudia said her parents were away, and that if we went around at seven, we could have some fun.” The boy flushed before continuing. “Anyway, we were all there, ringing on the doorbell but she wasn’t in.”

  “How did that make you feel?”

  “Pissed off. She’d led us on all day at school and then backed down. Sign of a true bitch.”

  “Typical teasing cow,” muttered Tony.

  “Do you think she was in the house but not letting you in?”

  “Of course she was. Where else would she be?”

  “What makes you so sure if you didn’t see her?”

  “We don’t know for sure. No lights were on, but we guessed she was hiding upstairs or something.”

  James yawned loudly and began shifting his feet around on the floor so that the soles of his shoes made squeaking sounds.

  “How long did you wait outside for?”

  “Dunno,” he shrugged, “about ten minutes I suppose, then we went back to mine.” Ralph shoved his hands in his trouser pockets.

  “Can your parents verify that?”

  “No, they weren’t in. That’s why we went back there. My dad has a stash of beer, so we had a bottle each and played on the Xbox.”

  Lenox sat back in his chair. “We’ll need you to make statements at the station in the presence of your parents.”

  The boys looked at one another before James spoke.

  “What, because we had a beer?” The three of them sniggered openly. “Our parents won’t care about that.” They slapped each other on the back.

  “No boys,” said Wednesday, standing up to stretch her legs. “It’s more serious than that. Now if you’re telling the truth, you have nothing to worry about.”

  A look of alarm spread across the boys’ faces, and the acne on Tony’s face flushed a violent puce. Ralph’s face drained of colour as he wound his school tie around his fingers.

  Lennox stood up to join Wednesday. “Leave your names, addresses, and phone numbers on that sheet, then you can go back to class.”

  As they were walking out of the school, Wednesday’s mobile rang and she was informed that Claudia’s parents had been informed of their daughter’s death by the Met officers and they were now at home. The family liaison officer was already there.

  “Let’s smoke before this one,” she said, sensing every muscle in her body tightening.

  Lennox reached into his pocket and pulled out a battered packet of cigarettes, from which they both took one. “This is an unpleasant one,” he said before lighting up.

  Wednesday lit hers and took in a deep drag before answering. “The violence of her death will be impossible to conceal in this place. Gossip spreads like oil on water,” she replied, letting the smoke swirl out of her mouth with every word.

  They pulled up outside a sizable detached property, and saw Janice Parker’s car outside. A black convertible BMW sat outside the garage.

  The hefty brass lion-head door knocker made an impressive and apt sound of doom as Lennox swung it. Seconds later, a tall elegant man opened the door.

  “You’d better come in,” Greg Edwards said.

  He led them into the lounge where a statuesque woman in grey cashmere stood with her arm draped across the black marble mantelpiece. She was the epitome of allure.

  Mrs Lucinda Edwards looked right through them as though they were apparitions in a nightmare. But once Wednesday starting talking about the crime, she fainted. She crumpled onto the sheepskin rug, in almost slow motion. Tension and pain crackled through the air. The doctor was called out, and Greg Edwards poured himself a brandy. Parker went to the kitchen to make some tea whilst the claws of bereavement and death took a stranglehold on the house.

  Lucinda Edwards was now lying on the sofa being attended to by her overly attentive doctor, who prescribed Valium to aid her through the shock.

  “Would it be possible to talk to Mrs Edwards before she takes the medication, we know this is unspeakably hard, but we need to move fast,” asked Wednesday.

  The doctor looked towards his patient and she responded by nodding weakly.

  “Do you often leave your daughter alone?” asked Wednesday.

  Before Lucinda Edwards could speak, her husband answered.

  “She is . . . was almost sixteen, there’s no law against it.” He stood rigidly in the bay window, warming his brandy before sipping it. His stance was defensive as he stared at Wednesday.

  “That wasn’t what I was insinuating, sir. We need to find out who else knew she spent time alone here.”

  “I don’t know the answer to that. We go about once a month. Lucinda and I love the theatre and we have a flat in London.”

  “Did Claudia have a boyfriend?” she pointedly looked towards Lucinda.

  “Certainly not, she was a serious student planning on becoming a lawyer. She didn’t have the time for silly boys,” replied the husband.

  Wednesday looked towards Lucinda as he spoke. Big fat salty tears crawled down her cheeks, leaving behind muddy trails of mascara.

  “She seemed quite popular with the boys at school,” ventured Wednesday, all the while looking at Lucinda. She thought she caught a brief look of acknowledgement from her, whilst Greg Edwards protested at the degrading slurs against his daughter.

  “None of the boys at that school were good enough for Claudia, none of them.” He tipped the last of the brandy down his throat before pouring himself another.

  Lucinda dabbed her face with a monogrammed handkerchief, then beckoned Wednesday towards her by waving the sodden cloth. Wednesday bent down to be as close as possible.

  “Was she assaulted?” she whispered.

  “We don’t know presently. The pathologist is carrying out tests.”

  “I want to see my daughter now, my wife will remain here,” demanded Edwards, looking directly at Lennox.

  “Janice can stay with your wife, if she’d like.”

  Greg Edwards sat in wretched silence in the back of Lennox’s car whilst Wednesday phoned ahead to advise Edmond Carter of their imminent arrival.

  It felt all too familiar and all too soon for Wednesday. Watching the assistant wheel out the gurney on which lay the lifeless shell of another teenager, made her stomach churn. She observed Greg Edwards’s impass
ive face as he viewed the body of his precious child. Some marks on her face were visible.

  “I think it would be for the best if my wife wasn’t told about the extent of injuries just yet, or ever.” His voice cracked at the final words. He compensated for his perceived weakness by jutting out his chin and taking in a deep breath.

  “We’ll do our best, sir, but I can’t guarantee it. I’ll get someone to drive you home. We’ll need to look over your daughter’s bedroom tomorrow, but call me in the meantime if you have any questions.” Wednesday handed him her card then led the subdued father to a waiting officer who took him back upstairs.

  Wednesday then moved into the laboratory to speak with Edmond.

  “What can you tell me?”

  “It appears that the poor girl suffered a violent death looking at the extent of contusions on her body. When I removed the masking tape from over her mouth, I found a large piece of cloth, probably there to muffle her screams.”

  He paused to wipe his hand over his bald head that was glistening with perspiration. “The tape and cloth have gone for analysis. Maybe some latent fingerprints blah de blah.”

  Wednesday tried hard not to imagine the pain and fear the girl suffered, as her gaze hovered just above the body.

  “There’s one other thing,” he said before clearing his throat. “I’ve deduced that she was hanged slowly whilst being beaten by some form of baton or stick. More than one person was hitting her; there are various pressures and force used with each weapon. She was alive when this was happening. Dead people don’t bruise. Ghastly death.”

  Wednesday felt an icy frisson run down her neck and spine. “What killed her exactly?”

  “I won’t know for sure until I’ve finished the autopsy. There was a blow to her head, causing a fracture, but between that, the beating, the hanging, and the possibility of drugs; I’d be hazarding a guess at this point.”

  Wednesday stood back as the gurney was removed, and Edmond put his hand on her shoulder.

  “This will send shock waves through the community when the gruesome demise of the girl is made public.”

  “I pity the mother. We’ll keep most of the details private for now,” she replied quietly.

  She plodded her way up the stairs to find Dana Booth, the press officer, waiting for her.

  “I’ll need a breakdown on what I can give the press and what we’re holding back,” she said as Wednesday poured herself a tepid cup of strong coffee.

  “No details of how she died, just that her body was found in the woods, and that any info would be appreciated.”

  Wednesday headed for her office, when Digby Hunter flung open his office door and summoned her and Lennox in.

  “Please tell me you have some leads, I’m getting some serious pressure from above to get some results. Well?”

  “We’re working on the connection to all three kids, which is the school. The head, Cleveland, is hiding something but he’s tight lipped, sir,” Lennox answered.

  “Then bring him in for questioning and break him. Take him out of his comfort zone.”

  “On what grounds, sir? It’s only speculation.”

  “Surely you can come up with something? I know DI Wednesday can be innovative.”

  She reddened and wrinkled up her toes in her shoes. “Another connection could be the missing boy. If we find him we may have the missing link.”

  “I have a team working on reports of sightings, following leads, searching the surrounding area to his home. He may still just be a runaway teen for all we know.”

  As the detectives were about to leave, Hunter had one last thing to impart.

  “I’m cancelling weekend leave, so I suggest you go home at the end of the day and get some rest. I’m calling a briefing at eight tomorrow morning. Let Jones know so she can organise the team.”

  “We might as well go and get Cleveland and try and break the bastard. Let’s take a squad car to shake him up,” said Lennox.

  Driving up towards the imposing school building, they were spotted by students running cross country. They became instantly drawn to what was happening. Wednesday was aware of her thumping heart as she waited for Lennox to switch off the engine.

  Lennox flashed his badge at the receptionist as they whizzed by without stopping. Cleveland was mortified by the abrupt nature with which he was whisked out of his office. He sat like a sulking teenager in the back of the squad car, allowing his heavy brooding to permeate the atmosphere. He was not going to make it easy.

  “Do I need a lawyer?” he asked, as he was finally sitting on the hard chair in the Interview Room.

  “Not unless you have something to confess. We just need you to answer some questions,” replied Wednesday, seating herself opposite him. His presence made her feel as though a million ants were scampering over her flesh.

  “Where were you last night, Mr Cleveland?” she began.

  “At home alone.”

  “That seems to be your constant response. Don’t you have a social life?”

  “I object to your tone, Detective. I spend quite a lot of time at home, but I also have a social life. In fact, I’m meeting some friends at the pub tonight.”

  “Which pub would that be?”

  “The Crow.” He sat back in his chair and met with her eyes.

  “Has it not occurred to you there may be something going on at your school that connects all these young people?”

  “I have thought about it, yes. But I can’t see what it is. There’s nothing remarkable about any of them. Tom was bright but quiet, Darren doesn’t have academic prowess, and Claudia . . . was . . . bright but audaciously flirtatious at times. No connections for me to see, but you’re the detectives; it’s your job to connect the dots.”

  “What about Mr Pollock? What’s he like as a teacher?” Lennox asked.

  “Nothing extraordinary. He seems popular with the students.”

  “Any particular reason to why that is?”

  Cleveland shrugged his shoulders and began tapping his long fingers on the table.

  “Do you ever socialise with your staff?” Wednesday asked.

  “I don’t like to generally, but I make an exception at Christmas.”

  “Were the three students involved in any after school activities?”

  “I’d already checked that as I thought you might want to know, seeing as you’re hell bent on implicating the school. The only semblance of activities would be field trips, but that would involve the whole class.”

  “What about any bullying element?”

  “It’s not a problem at Markham Hall.”

  “Come Mr Cleveland, bullying is a component in all schools to a certain extent.” Wednesday felt her irritation rise in reaction to his supercilious nature.

  “Naturally, if you put it like that. But it’s not a major issue. I retain the discipline in the school and any form of bullying that occurs, I deal with rapidly.”

  “How exactly?”

  “I involve the parents and I use detention. Look, I object to being questioned like this; you seem to be judging my role of head. These atrocities have nothing to do with me or the school. You’re wasting your time with this.”

  “We frequently have to make seemingly unconnected interviews in a murder enquiry, sir; we’re sorry you feel scrutinised.”

  “I feel hounded, that’s what I feel. Now, am I free to go?”

  “Yes, an officer will escort you back. Thank you for your cooperation.”

  As Cleveland left the room, Wednesday’s eyes glided over Lennox’s face as he stared into the middle distance.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  “Oh God, the very question women should never ask a bloke.”

  “I meant with regards to the case.”

  Lennox rubbed his hand over his spiky hair, and sucked in air rather loudly. “Cleveland is stalling, he knows something but he’s not prepared to give it up just yet, although he’s a weak man deep down.”

  Wednesda
y was just about to reply, when Jones walked into the room to inform them that the dead girl’s father had come to see them. A few minutes later, Greg Edwards entered the room. His fine features looked haggard, but his eyes were alert.

  “I want to know if the head, Mr Cleveland, has anything to do with my daughter’s death.”

  “We’re still making enquiries; no arrests have been made so far. We will inform you of any progress, sir.”

  “But you brought him in here. You must be suspicious.”

  “He is naturally part of the investigation, seeing as your daughter attended his school. May I ask how you know this?”

  “I have my sources, DI Wednesday, which I’m not prepared to divulge. I never liked that man and you may have let him go too soon, mark my words.”

  “We had no reason to keep him any longer.”

  “You may think he’s safe out in the community, but I for one will make sure his movements are monitored.”

  Wednesday took a deep breath. “Please be careful, there are laws against vigilantism and harassing people.” Changing to a more tender tone, she continued. “I know you must be hurting deeply, but please let us deal with the investigation. We’ll get there, it’s still early days.”

  Edwards looked at Wednesday, words hanging from the tip of his tongue, but instead he just shook his head slightly then walked out.

  “Fancy a smoke?” asked Wednesday, seeing the dark circles underneath Lennox’s eyes setting in.

  Outside, the rain was falling hard, so they huddled together under the insufficient shelter, whilst they simultaneously puffed on their cigarettes. Wednesday had grown accustomed to his aftershave which she now found comforting and subconsciously arousing.

  “Would you like to go for a drink after work?” she asked.

  Lennox took a couple of drags. “I suppose we could go to The Crow and do some background checks whilst we’re there.”

  Wednesday’s shoulders sagged. She knew he would never give her the look he had given Scarlett in the kitchen.

  They returned inside with a fine covering of rain drops glistening on their clothes and hair, and found Maria Jones waiting for them.