Chapter 41: Penhale Interrogates the Suspect
Thursday Morning
Mrs. Wenn chewed on her thumbnail nervously.
"Why didn't you want us to know you were at the cottage?" the Doc repeated.
"I didn't want you to find out we were related, me and Aunt… Mrs. Daniels. Michael still thought our meeting at the museum was fate. It was a beautiful lie and I didn't want to spoil it." She swallowed nervously. "Can I get a Coke?"
"No," the Doc snapped, before Penhale could say anything. The constable was glad the Doc had his back but he was beginning to think his new friend was taking over the interrogation.
"Um, OK, so why I was there… well, I've been suspicious about my uncle's death. Uncle Andy was eccentric but he was kind to me when I was living here. I always felt welcome at his place. When I heard he was gone, that he dropped dead from a heart attack, and Aunt Agnes inherited Larkspur Cottage, it just didn't seem right, innit. Gran was gone by then, and they found a will, handwritten, saying his sister Agnes would get the cottage but they never got along. Doesn't make sense. When I got to Portwenn as Michael's wife, I saw my aunt was living at the cottage, driving over to the manor house every day. I heard her say she was going to Truro for the day so I decided to pay a visit when I knew the cottage would be empty. I parked the Vespa round back and found the spare key. I had a good look round, took a while because Aunt Agnes is a bit of a pack rat, just the way Uncle Andy was, but I found something all right."
She stopped and fumbled in her purse and came out with a piece of gum. Popping it in her mouth and chewing it made her seem younger than ever.
"For one thing," she continued, "Aunt Agnes has got all sorts of dried plants and flowers, and bottles of herbal concoctions all over the kitchen there, with who-knows-what in them. They have labels, but sometimes it's just a few letters or numbers written on them. That's not the important part though. The thing is, I found a box of Cuban cigars, Romeo and Julieta with just one missing. Uncle Andy loved cigars and these are posh ones, I looked them up, they were Winston Churchill's favourite. And this box was stuck in a sliding panel behind a bookcase in the spare bedroom. She thought no one would find it there but I know that cottage inside out. Doc, when you and P.C. Penhale came knocking I had just found the box. I panicked, I wanted to distract you so I could get away. Once you took off into the sunflowers I was losing the signal with the drone anyway so I grabbed the box, ran down to my Vespa, and took off."
"That's what this was all about? A packet of cigars?" Penhale said incredulously. He was eager to assert himself in this interrogation again. "You can get one at the news agents on Fore Street, you know."
"You don't understand," she said. "I think these cigars were poisoned somehow. Aunt Agnes gave them to him, he smoked one, and he died. That's what I think. Dr. Sim said it was a heart attack."
"Dr. Sim was more interested in running a tea shop than a surgery," the Doc retorted. "He probably barely even examined the man."
"That's what I thought," she said, nodding vigorously. "Everyone would just think 'oh, he was an old man, overweight, he smoked, so he just keeled over from natural causes.'"
"Cardiovascular disease is a leading cause of death in this country," the Doc said. "But if you had reason to believe otherwise in this instance, why keep it to yourself?"
Mrs. Wenn looked embarrassed. "I wanted them for insurance. I left the hidden cabinet open so my aunt would know I took the box. That way I could guarantee that she wouldn't tell anyone how I had a plan to marry Michael, or that she was my aunt."
"You were willing to cover up the alleged murder of your uncle, whom you were supposedly so fond of, to conceal your scheming?" The Doc's voice was heavy with sarcasm.
"Yeah, well," she looked down, pretending to examine her fingernails, and still chewing the gum. "Anyway, it doesn't matter now. You know everything, about me at least. I can give you the cigars if you want to test them. I hid them at Wenn Hall. Aunt Agnes has been quietly turning the place upside down looking but I found a good hiding spot." Mrs. Wenn looked pleased in spite of herself. "She'll never find them."
The Doc started to say something again, but Penhale managed to cut him off. "If she did commit murder, why would she keep the cigars around after the deed was done?"
"Knowing Aunt Agnes, she thought they might be useful again… You don't know her like I do. She's a bitter old witch. She got away with it once, she probably thought she might try it again sometime. I know for a fact she already messed with someone else - Jago Powell."
"What? After he threw that great party for the village? Didn't she get an invite?" Penhale said.
"Nah, nothing to do with that. It was last year when Rachel was still around. When Jago came to look at Wenn Hall as a set for his movie he had a little fling with her. Aunt Agnes knew all about it."
Mr. Wenn was visibly angry. "I knew it! I knew Rachel was sneaking around with someone then, I just didn't know who. That tosser!"
"Oh Michael, you knew she was no good. Don't tell me you still care about what that bitch was up to."
"Now Lovie, I can't help it. She was my wife then and he was a guest in my home, I have a right to be angry about it."
"Can we save the soap opera melodrama for later?" the Doc demanded.
"Yeah, save it for later," Penhale chimed in.
Mrs. Wenn scowled and continued with her story. "Aunt Agnes was jealous of Jago, she put one of her herbal concoctions in his tea that would make him act like he was drunk. She was hoping he would crash his car on the cliff road. I heard he got picked up for drink driving, kept insisting it was a bad rap, but no one believed him. Aunt Agnes was really proud of that one. Couldn't resist telling me about it, to keep me in line. She said tea was the best method to mess with people because everybody drinks tea, but she said if I ever told anyone she'd deny it."
She turned to look directly at the Doc. "She wanted to get you too, Dr. Ellingham."
"What are you talking about?"
"Aunt Agnes wasn't worried about the constable here, no offence," she said to Penhale. "But she thought you were too clever by half, Dr. Ellingham, getting onto the truth. She wanted to get you to drink some of her 'special' tea but you wouldn't go for it. Said she might try to target someone else, someone you cared about, to distract you, throw you off the scent."
The Doc looked alarmed. "Who? Did she say who?"
"She knows your old auntie, Joan Norton, but she was complaining that she doesn't see Joan lately, how your aunt doesn't get out much because hurt her leg or something. Aunt Agnes said someone else might do. Never said who though."
"Now think, Doc" Penhale said. "Agnes Daniels might target someone close to you, possibly someone who's been going round to the place where Agnes Daniels works."
"Louisa!" The Doc took out his mobile and rang a number. "No answer."
"Mobile service has always been poor at the house," Mr. Wenn said. "I'll try the landline."
The Doc could hardly keep himself from grabbing the phone out of the man's hands. He pressed his ear close to Wenn's as Penhale leaned in close. They could all hear the busy signal.
"Strange," Mr. Wenn said. "I tried calling twice earlier to tell the gardener something, still busy. Perhaps someone's knocked the receiver off the hook. I've got the mobile number for the movie director, I could give him a try."
"Text him instead of calling," the Doc urged. "It's more likely to get through if the signal is weak."
"Good thinking. Al Large is probably there," Penhale said. "I've got his number. Should I try texting him?"
"Do it. And then we've got to get out there as fast as we can."
Penhale looked at the Wenns. "I reckon we can press charges later. Let's go!"
As they left the station and all piled into the police vehicle, the Doc desperately fished in his pocket and came out with a card with a number written on it. He typed in the number and a message.
"Anyone who knows any possible contact at the house, keep trying to reach them," he said. "You never know who's likely to get a message through. It's imperative we reach Louisa in time."
As urgent as the situation was, Penhale was beginning to think there was something going on with the Doc and Louisa.
To be continued…