Part 37: Mushrooms in the cellar…

Penelope must spend all her time picking mushrooms in her basement

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After he had rather rudely quit himself of Penelope, a sting of guilty conscience bothered him. But when he weighed the two against each other, he had to admit he preferred Olive the sinner to Penelope the saint. Blimey, what a smell of damp cellars the woman has. She must spend all her time picking mushrooms in her basement.

He recalled Olive had the infernal nerve to tell him once that if she ever robbed him, he was to call Penelope in. Now he understood why. Penelope is a pompous fool who would muddle a systematic search. Well, Olive, he thought. Sorry, but I’ll have nothing more to do with Penelope than I can help.

Penelope found Inspector Dobbs’ cottage, knocked loudly on his door, and bored him with a detailed and useless account of Olive’s early years and recent vices. She insisted he came to examine her house at number three, and Chief Inspector Dobbs did so—but without enthusiasm. On the way, she spent at least five minutes showing him Olive’s garage where she’d kept her car.

She also tried to interest Chief Inspector Dobbs in her precious but musty books. She unlocked one section of the vast glass-fronted bookcase, dragged down a four-volume set of sermons, and read them aloud.

Chief Inspector Dobbs interrupted: “Stop right there! Nothing against your faith, but you brought me here to uncover evidence of Olive’s whereabouts.” He sniffed. “We will not find your sister hiding behind those books!”
 
 To be continued…
 
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Like to know more about Alf, Bert and the rest of the gang? You can read their chaotic history in What on Earth.
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