Chapter 43: In the Underworld
Thursday Midday
The police vehicle flew into the courtyard of Wenn Hall and Penhale swerved about looking for a place to park amid the various vehicles left haphazardly there. "Park anywhere!" Martin shouted. He shoved the door open before the vehicle had even come to a stop, and sprinted across the pavement, up the wide stone steps, and through the front door, well ahead of everyone else.
He ran through the front hallway, past the cameras, microphones, and lights, pushing past the extras and the two placid cocker spaniels, who once again spotted him and leapt up with happy barks. He ran through the downstairs, shouting "Louisa! Louisa!" as Penhale, the Wenns, and the dogs followed close on his heels.
"Mar-tin?" He heard a familiar voice answer. He followed the sound into the library, shooing the dogs away and shoving aside the blonde woman in the doorway to see Louisa and Jago sitting together on the sofa.
"Mar-tin?" Louisa repeated. "What's this all about?"
"Did you drink any tea?"
"No, and they didn't drink any hot chocolate either, thanks to me getting your message," said the blonde woman he recognized as the American actress. "And you're welcome, by the way," she added.
"Hm," Martin said, scowling at the china cups with their topping of whipped cream still intact. "Penhale, find a container to collect the hot chocolate so it can be sent to the police lab to be tested. I think it's best you search the kitchen too, for incriminating substances."
While Penhale went about his business, Martin attempted to explain the situation to Louisa.
"Where is that hag Mrs. Daniels?" Jago demanded. "She did seem a little too eager to be helpful."
"She must be around somewhere," Mr. Wenn said. "Her old car is parked out front."
"Martin, how do you know Mrs. Wenn is even telling the truth?" Louisa whispered, pulling him aside and trying not to look at the Wenns. "Mrs. Daniels isn't the most pleasant person to have around, but her niece could be lying to make her own awful behaviour seem not so bad by comparison."
"The crucial thing now is to find the box of cigars Mrs. Wenn referred to. That could help establish her credibility," Martin said.
Penhale had reappeared by Martin's side. "I've secured the evidence in the boot of my vehicle, Doc. No sign of the latest suspect so far."
Mrs. Wenn seemed to relish playing the lady of the manor house. She drew herself up, glancing at Louisa, and said, "I made some poor judgments but I can prove what I was saying. I know Aunt Agnes has been going through the house trying to find the cigar box but I came up with a hiding spot she would never figure out. Come on."
She went up to a bookcase and reached to a high shelf to move a small lacquered statue of a falcon, feeling behind it till she pressed what appeared to be a button concealed there. There was a click from deep inside the wall and the bookcase slowly swung outward on hidden hinges, drawing a collective reaction from the others. Behind it was a heavy wooden door.
"My great-grandfather was part of the team that found King Tut's Tomb, though he never got the credit Lord Carnarvon and Howard Carter did," Mr. Wenn explained. "He was the one that started the family's collection of Egyptian antiquities. He was so obsessed he had a small group of workmen wall off a section of the cellar and dig it even deeper to recreate the tomb right here in the house. He paid them handsomely and swore them to secrecy. That was back in the 1920s so everyone outside the family who knew about it is long gone."
"Michael let me in on the secret when we first arrived here after our honeymoon," Mrs. Wenn said. She took a small alabaster vase from another shelf and pulled out an old-fashioned ornate key from it, which she presented to Penhale, gesturing for him to open the door. It revealed a stone staircase heading down into darkness. She clearly relished the drama of the moment as even Martin, in spite of himself, gasped along with the others in surprise.
She flipped a wall switch to illuminate the way and walked down. Mr. Wenn, Penhale, Jago, Wynnie, and Louisa followed her down the steep steps, with Martin bringing up the rear, feeling uneasy about the descent. The air felt dusty and smelt faintly of decay, as if it were a real tomb, he thought. He had to duck to follow the group through a stone doorway, then further descending along a dimly lit corridor, and finally into a stone antechamber.
"My brother and I used to dare each other to come down here when we were kids," Mr. Wenn said. "Family legend has it that Great-Granddad would spend his days down here when he was old and grey, reliving his time spent exploring the Valley of Kings. He recreated the tomb and its contents in extraordinary detail, except of course the electric lighting, and he made the ceiling higher so he could stand without hitting his head. The original wasn't made for the living to inhabit so the ancients kept it low and small. Lucky for me Great-Granddad took the living into account, and lucky for you too, eh Doc?"
Martin said nothing. As the tallest of the group, he could stand upright in the stone walled room, but he was acutely aware that the ceiling was a mere inch or so above the top of his head. He had the unpleasant sensation it was pressing down on him. The lighting was better here and he could see the room was filled with curious objects, including chariot wheels and what appeared to be a bed decorated with a sphinx-like creature with the head of a crocodile.
They followed Mrs. Wenn to the right as into what was clearly the burial chamber, painted with ancient scenes on the walls and ceiling, and adorned with gilded shrines surrounding a massive granite sarcophagus. The group stood in awed silence as they took in their surroundings.
"This is the tomb as it looked when Howard Carter and his team first uncovered it after 3,300 years, before all the really good treasures were taken away to the Cairo Museum," Mr. Wenn said, with evident pride. "Great-Granddad took all this ancient Egyptian stuff really seriously. Family legend says he even wanted to be buried down here but Great-Gran wouldn't hear of it."
"I knew this was the one place in the house Mrs. Daniels didn't know about," Mrs. Wenn said. "I wanted to hide the cigar box in the sarcophagus but I realized I could never shift the stone lid by myself so I put it just here."
She reached into the narrow area between the back of the sarcophagus and the wall and pulled out a parcel wrapped in paper bag. Inside was a cigar box. She opened the lid to reveal the box was full, with just one missing. The cigars in their clear wrappers gleamed in the harsh electric light, looking strangely anachronistic in the ancient setting. She presented the box to Penhale. "There's the evidence."
At that moment, they were plunged into total darkness.
From out beyond the chamber and above the stairs came the clang of a door being slammed shut and a large antique key turning.
"Penhale! You left the key in the lock!" Martin shouted.
"I didn't think we'd need it, Doc!"
"Is there any other way out?!" Martin demanded.
"No!" Mrs. Wenn squeaked, suddenly sounding like a nervous teenager again.
"I told you," Mr. Wenn said, "this area was walled off from the rest of the cellar. It's a replica of a tomb. A very authentic replica," he added grimly.
"Martin, she must have caught on we were onto her. She's got us trapped down here," Louisa cried out. "Now, don't panic," came Jago's voice, but he sounded like he was trying to convince himself.
"Doc, I know you don't do well in situations like this," Penhale said. "Take a deep breath and try to stay calm."
Martin took a deep breath, then another. Even after a moment or two his eyes still weren't adjusting to the darkness, it was as total and absolute as in a tin mine, or being locked in a cupboard under the stairs, but he smiled a little to himself. If anything, he could hear the anxiety in Penhale's voice, however Martin realized he himself was staying calm and in control. He had been through this situation before and now he knew he could handle it.
He could feel a hand grasp his and he instantly recognized Louisa's touch. "Mar-tin, what are we going to do?" That she had turned to him for guidance rather than her actor friend boosted his confidence still more.
Martin took out his phone and shone its dim light in the chamber. "Follow me."
They all lit their phones and he led them back out of the burial chamber, through the antechamber, and up the sloping corridor and the stairs. "Hey, we're in here," shouted Wynnie. "Somebody! Help!" Jago chimed in.
"No one will be able to hear us from here," Mr. Wenn said.
"Don't worry, folks," Penhale announced, suddenly sounding very reassured. "I've seen the Doc's handiwork in this type of situation. We're in the presence of a master lock picker."
Martin's confidence began to waiver. He felt in his pocket for the tiny screwdriver he still had with him but he knew it wouldn't be adequate to the task at hand. He guessed the door had a rather common double cylinder lock that could be opened from the inside but even that required more tools than he had on hand. He pushed against the door, it was far too heavy to kick open.
Ignoring the impatient group behind him, he had a sudden inspiration and put his eye to the keyhole. Yes! The housekeeper had left the key in the lock! He took his crisply starched handkerchief from his pocket, unfolded it, and carefully slid it under the door, positioned just below the lock, all the while hoping the housekeeper was not out there watching, ready to interfere with his plan.
Then he poked the tiny screwdriver gently through the lock, pushing the key out. It fell on the handkerchief with a muffled thud and he slowly pulled it toward him, hoping the antique key could fit under the door. Success!
He turned the key in the lock and it clicked open. He pulled the handle and was out and free. They piled out in a bunch after him, Penhale still clutching the cigar box, all of them elated for the moment. But just for a moment. Instead of light and fresh air, there was…
"Smoke!" Martin shouted. "She's lit a fire. Everyone out!"
He grabbed Louisa's hand and they fled for the front door, with the others close on their heels.
The smoke was rapidly filling the ground floor. The film crew had already escaped to the front courtyard. In the chaos as everyone ran about in a panic, trying to get a safe distance away from the house and out of the rain, fire brigade sirens could be heard approaching. Pauline emerged from the crowd, soaked from the rain but with a pleased grin. She pushed past Martin and grabbed Jago's and Wynnie's hands, shaking them simultaneously.
"It's such an honour to meet you Mr. Powell and you Ms. Baxter, I'm your biggest fans. I mean, I'm your biggest fan for each of you," she said, giddily still shaking their hands. "We didn't know where you were in the house, everyone was worried, but you've got yourselves out safe. Everything's under control now, thanks to Action Man Al Large!
To be continued…