In the Light of Madness Read Online Free PDF Page A

where only a rectangular table stood, surrounded by eight chairs.
“Has this place been used yet?”
“The club hasn’t officially started, but it’s not for the want of trying on his behalf,” she said as she glanced around. “He mentions it every Sunday in church and advertises it in the fortnightly parish magazine.” She stood by the window and gazed at trees. “I think it’s a waste of time, but George has always loved working with young people.”
Wednesday said nothing whilst taking notes.
“Tom and Darren showed interest in the club, so George brought them to see this,” said Vera as she waved her arm around the space.
“When was that?”
Vera suddenly seemed hesitant. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask him.”
“We will,” replied Lennox.
Whilst searching around the hut, Wednesday spied a cocktail stick on the floor which she picked up and put in an evidence pouch.
“What was that?” asked Vera.
“Looks like a cocktail stick. It’s probably nothing,” she replied, putting it in her bag.
 
Reverend George Olong drove his burgundy Volvo estate to the Dolby’s home. It was his first experience of dealing with a murdered adolescent and fear was pounding in his ears.
James Dolby opened the door, his face speckled with stubble and his hair desperately in need of a brush. George sensed the oppressive and airless atmosphere as soon as he stepped inside.
Dolby led him to the kitchen where he switched on the kettle in an automatic action.
“I’ll make it,” said George, wishing to feel useful in some way as he suspected that spiritually, James Dolby was beyond help at that moment in time.
“My wife’s in bed. The doctor gave her a sedative.”
George nodded. “And how are you holding up?”
“I’m living in a nightmare that I’ll only wake up from when Tom walks through the front door.”
George nodded again as he poured two cups of tea.
“The whole community feels your suffering, and God is reaching out to embrace your pain—”
“Don’t talk to me of God. What God would allow such an atrocity to occur? I am too full of pain and anger to accept God’s so-called love.”
George did not blame him and knew that part of his role was to mop up the out-pouring of grief. God would have to take a backseat for a while.
The next time George looked at the clock on the buttercup yellow wall, he saw that he had been there for an hour and a half. The kitchen table was covered in photograph albums and school certificates, mapping out the short life of a much loved son.
He was contemplating an appropriate way to depart when the doorbell rang. James Dolby eased himself out of the chair and shuffled to the door; he’d aged twenty years over night, thought George.
Wednesday and Lennox were standing at the door. Dolby stood to one side to let them in just as George was heading out.
“I should leave you to get on. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said as he squeezed passed the detectives, nodding at them as a parting gesture.
The detectives could see the remnants of Tom’s life littered across the kitchen table, but there was no time for sentimentality.
“Were you aware that Tom wanted to join a rambling club the reverend was trying to set up?” asked Lennox, glancing at Tom’s school photos.
“Yes,” he nodded. “The reverend had a keen interest in Tom as he thought he was a good example to other boys with his good manners and all that.”
“Did the reverend see much of Tom then?”
James frowned at Lennox. “Not sure what you’re getting at.”
“We’re just trying to piece together Tom’s habits and the people he interacted with. We’re building a profile of him.”
Dolby’s shoulders drooped and his head dropped forward as though his neck could no longer support it. “He attended church with us every Sunday. He also spent time at that Darren’s house much to Emily’s disapproval, and he saw the reverend occasionally about church matters or the rambling club. Tom liked to be helpful to