“Yes. I don’t feel I’ve treated you fairly. I considered you an accomplice to your husband, and I know now that you were innocent. Anyway, I’m sorry for your loss. As for the investigations, we’ll be touch. We may have questions for you.”
Petunia had no words. She didn’t even hear the policemen leave.
The only thought in her mind was Phillip was dead.
51 Aldous’ Revelation
“A Mister Loxley is here, Mrs. Pennyworth,” Mrs. Glum announced. “Would you like me to tell him you’re not taking visitors at this time?”
“No, that’s all right, Mrs. Glum,” Petunia mumbled, “Let him in.”
Petunia sat on her settee staring blankly into the unlit fireplace. Her eyes were heavy and swollen from crying. She’d come to terms with the fact that Phillip was dead, and now she did not know how she felt. She hated Phillip, yes. He had been abusive and unkind. He treated Petunia as though she were swine. But murdered? Petunia would not wish that on anyone. She was not devastated, per say, but she was sad. She felt sorry for him and for herself.
Wearing a sympathetic expression, Aldous Loxley strode into the room on that late August day holding a stack of papers in his hand which Petunia presumed were financial documents.
“Hullo, Mrs. Pennyworth.”
Petunia looked up and gave him a small smile. Though she did not care for the Loxleys, she assumed that Aldous came to give his condolences for her loss, and for that she would let bygones be bygones, at least for today.
“Would you like some tea, Mister Loxley?”
“Yes, please,” he said, giving Mrs. Glum a slight smile.
“Mrs. Glum, bring some of your sticky ginger cake. It is quite delicious.”
Mrs. Glum nodded and left the drawing room.
“Mrs. Pennyworth...Petunia, please first let me tell you how sorry I am for your loss.”
“That is kind. Thank you.”
Aldous hesitated before he spoke next.
“It is no mystery that Phillip was unkind to you. I’m sorry he treated you that way.”
Petunia didn’t respond. Now that Phillip was dead, the gossip had spread about his abusive nature.
“I also understand that he left you with nothing but debts.”
“Well, I don’t want your money if that’s what you’re going to say.”
Aldous laughed. “That’s not why I’m here, Petunia. I have a story to tell you, and it’s not an easy one to tell.”
Mrs. Glum returned with cake and tea, and as she served the food, Aldous spoke.
“I suppose I’ll start at the beginning then. It all began with my sister, Mary. Do you remember her?”
Petunia shook her head.
“She was a lovely girl, but she had a dreadful affliction...she was ill of mind. Somehow, she connected with a man named Babcock. He knew my sister was ill and took advantage of her.”
“I’m sorry that this happened to her.”
“Yes, well...I couldn’t say anything before because I didn’t know for sure, and I didn’t know where to find evidence.”
“Of what?”
“My sister lost her son and was deeply affected. I’m afraid I was of no help. She was very, very ill, and Babcock convinced her, her son was alive, wandering around somewhere.”
A small spark of excitement filtered through Petunia’s body.
“The day your son went missing...”
“Oh!” Petunia cried out loud. “You know what happened to Peter?” She groaned as she fanned herself with her hands. Petunia’s face was flushed, and suddenly she felt her heart race and hot tears stream down her cheeks.
“Please, let me finish,” Aldous said gently. “The day your son went missing, my sister was at the park, and I believe she took your son and gave him to Babcock. I couldn’t prove it at the time, so I sent my sister away where she couldn’t harm anyone. I went on a search for Babcock, but I was unsuccessful. Then one day a newspaper article in America reported that he was one of many in a ring of people who stole children from London and Scotland and sold them to wealthy American families.”
Petunia felt faint and could not breathe. She could not believe what she was hearing.
“The age and criteria of one of the stolen children matched that of your son, and I was able to send the very best investigators in America to verify this information and track down Peter.”
“Please, say you found him alive,” Petunia pleaded with wide eyes.
Aldous smiled.
“Yes, we were able to find your son. He was adopted by a wealthy family in California. And I have even better news. Though he’s returned to America for a short time, he will be back in London soon and knows who and where you are. Your son is the American actor, Guy Finlaw.”
52 Oscar’s Confession
Paul Watson’s Journal
August 30, 1927— I decided to speak with Oscar after a week of refusing to accept telephone calls and visits from either him or Richard. I needed time to process all of the shocking revelations I’d learned at Richard’s house the week before, and I didn’t know which information to deal with first. I was most upset that my father, who was a good and honest man, had no idea that I wasn’t his son. I felt sad for him, and even though Oscar was my biological father, William Watson was my true father, and that would never change.
I was still angry with Richard for not telling me what happened to my mum on the night of her murder. After talking to Oscar, however, I began to understand that the murderer was someone very powerful, and Richard’s silence on the matter was absolutely necessary.
So on 30th of August, Oscar arrived at my house early in the morning and revealed that he and Aldous developed a plan to expose the murderer.
“When Agatha was found wandering in the snow after escaping Kolney Hatch, she was immediately transported back to London and spent her first few days recovering at Maudsley. I was the doctor who attended to her, and she recognized me as Richard’s father.”
Richard’s father. The spot was still sore as I realized Oscar was also my father, and Richard was my brother.
“Agatha was recovering quickly,” Oscar continued, “She’d been drugged at Kolney Hatch, but we gave her proper care. One day, I found a note by her bedside saying, ‘Doctor Baker, I know the truth about what happened to Wendy and Louisa. Please. Help me.’ The next day, I walked into the hospital to find she was transferred to an isolated psychiatric ward. I didn’t find this necessary. Although she was exhibiting unusual behavior associated with post trauma, I found her behavior normal.”
I lit a cigarette as Oscar spoke and kept my eyes focused on him.
“I visited her in isolation and learned she’d been drugged at our facility with a substance that gave her a strong amnesia. She could not remember anything about her life. Constable Wyatt was outraged with the facility saying Agatha was a prime witness and should have had better care. He decided to move her to a facility called Hollybrook and enlisted guards to wait around her bedside.”
“I don’t understand what this has to do with her being alive now?”
“Once I knew she knew the truth, I contacted Aldous. Agatha was our only hope to clear Richard and Roger from Wendy and Louisa’s murders. As you know, Aldous is a very powerful and influential person, so we came up with a plan. In order to ensure Agatha’s safety, we would need to keep her under our personal care until her memory returned. Aldous got hold of a drug that slowed heart rate so much that the person appeared clinically dead.”
“You kidnapped her.”
“We saved her life.”
“I’ve never heard of such a drug that would make one appear dead. What is it?”
“I’d rather not tell you all the details, Paul. The less you know, the less you will have to lie about.”
“At least tell me about it.”
“Let’s just say the drug mimicked the poison of the pufferfish without the violent death.”
“Fascinating.”
“Terrifying, a
ctually,” Oscar replied. “Aldous procured it from a scientist out West. It was someone he trusted, so I trusted in him also, even though anything could have gone wrong. Anyway, I signed in as a visitor one day, as the only person who had clearance to see Agatha...Phillip Pennyworth. When I walked into Agatha’s room, I pretended I was her doctor, and the guards, thinking I truly was, did not question as I administered the drug. Aldous had his personal doctor sign Agatha’s death certificate and had the body removed. Once Agatha reached the morgue, I was waiting for her, and escorted her body somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“It’s better you don’t know all the details.”
“Did Agatha tell you everything you needed to know?”
“When Agatha woke, I realized her recovery was going to take much longer that I thought. She could not even remember her name. I was worried she would never remember anything, but her memory grows stronger every day, and she remembers new details. We should have a credible confession from her in a couple of weeks.”
“What about the police? Are they in on this?”
“As I said before, it’s better you don’t know all the details,” Oscar repeated.
“Who do you think drugged Agatha?”
“Both Aldous and I were sure it was Phillip Pennyworth, but he was murdered, and so we’ll never truly know.”
I contemplated all that Oscar revealed to me.
“Do the detectives know?”
“Not yet. It was imperative we keep it a secret from everyone, even the police.”
“What about Richard? Oscar, I can’t let him get away with what he’s done.”
“I told you, he had to keep it a secret.”
“Not about that. I’m talking about what he did to Claire.”
“You can rest assured that I’ve handled the situation, Paul. Claire has my word, and Richard understands the consequences he’ll face if he makes even the slightest attempt to hurt her in that way again.”
I didn’t respond.
“Paul...,” Oscar continued. “I want you to know that I wanted to tell you I was your father...so many times...”
“Please...don’t...” I said.
“But I must. I wanted to tell you. But I made a promise to your mother, and I couldn’t break it. I hope we can...be friends for now, and hopefully someday mend our relationship.”
When I saw the sincerity in Oscar’s eyes, I softened.
“Yes, okay,” I answered. “Someday. But not now. I have a lot on my mind, and I need time.”
“Of course,” he nodded.
That Oscar was my father was just as much my mum’s fault as it was Oscar’s, yet I didn’t want to be cross with her, not when she was gone and he was still here. But to be angry with him seemed pointless too because he’d nobly kept her secret. Oscar truly loved my mum, and that I could respect. Perhaps he and I would mend our relationship someday, after all.
53 The New Heir of Kolney Hatch
Paul Watson’s Journal
September 1, 1927—After Oscar’s confession about Agatha and his assurance that Richard would never hurt Claire again, my anger for Richard subsided. Thankfully, I could take my mind off everything in London because the detectives and I were summoned to return to Whitemoor much earlier than anticipated.
The detectives and I departed on a Wednesday and traveled straight through to Whitemoor. Officer Geoff Williams—a friend of Detective Wicksy— accompanied us also. Mr. Darrow, the lawyer, was going to meet all of us at the Barry House and had traveled to Whitemoor two days before to clarify the interesting information he found. He had very important matters to discuss with the detectives and me.
We arrived at the inn late in the evening, and I sat with Sheldon for dinner. I explained that his horrifying tale about the Kolneys was true. The next morning I met with Mr. Darrow and the detectives in the private room at the Barry House. Mr. Darrow had a stack of papers by his side.
“We were able to track down your cousin Bran Barrowman,” Mr. Darrow said in a serious tone. “Unfortunately, it appears your cousin died of unnatural causes in Germany.”
“Oh, no...”
“It’s quite hard for us to obtain any other details at this time.”
“How unfortunate,” I said solemnly. “I wish he and I had been closer.”
“Well, perhaps you were closer than you think. He did leave a will.”
“He did?”
“Yes, and in it he states that all of his fortune should go to his cousin, his Aunt Wendy’s son, Paul Watson, in the event that anything should happen to him.”
“What?” I laughed in disbelief. I looked over towards Detective Wicksy and then at Barnes whose eyebrows were raised high in shock.
“I’m afraid I’m quite serious about this, Doctor Watson. You are the rightful heir to Kolney Hatch, to the Kolney fortune, and to that which their wealth extends.”
I drew in a deep breath. I could not believe what I was hearing.
“Most men would be quite happy to learn they’ve acquired such great fortune, but I understand under the circumstances of how this fortune came to you, and the pain you’ve suffered at Kolney Hatch, that this is not as pleasant as one would think.”
I was speechless. I wasn’t sure how to respond.
“I’ll be happy to take care of all the legal formalities as your lawyer if you so choose.”
“Of course, of course,” I nodded, still in disbelief. “Just...let me know what you need me to do.”
“We’ll need you to sign a great deal of paperwork. And then there’s the business about Kolney Hatch. We’ll need to do something about it.”
“Turn it into a hotel. It’ll self-sustain its revenue,” Barnes asserted as he took a sip of his coffee.
“Don’t think about any of that now,” Wicksy said. “You have a lot on your plate, Paul. One step at a time.”
“Well, that’s settled then,” the lawyer said.
I lit a cigarette as I tried to process what I’d just learned.
“There is something else I would like to discuss with all of you,” Wicksy stated. He turned to me. “It’s about everything that you found in the tunnels, Paul. I had a chance to go over the casefiles and ledgers with Detective Barnes. I’m afraid what we found was quite eye opening. I know you know the story about the Kolneys is a true one. That is, how Kolney Hatch came to be an asylum in the first place. You knew about the Kolney twins, Gaylord and Angus. Digging further into the casefiles, it seems the Reid brothers claimed that their father was George Kolney, Gaylord’s only son.”
“But how?”
“Reid’s mother was a prostitute.”
“It wasn’t unheard of,” Mr. Darrow said.
“Yes, and I am positive the family was not pleased. George Kolney was a married man. He had one child with his wife, a boy, who mysteriously drowned as a teenager.”
“By accident?”
Wicksy shook his head and lit a cigarette.
“Not likely. There was witness who said the boy had an altercation with another boy about his age. The witness, not wanting to get involved, had gone home that day. They simply could not find someone matching the description of the one boy.”
“Is it possible one of the Reid twins murdered him?”
“It is possible, but it’s only speculation.”
“So, George Kolney had three children with a prostitute and claimed none of them?” I asked.
“Possibly. If there is an ounce of truth to Thomas’s claim. But given the mother’s occupation, it’s likely the third child was not George Kolney’s.”
“Imagine what a scandal like that would cause with such a fortune on the line,” Mr. Darrow said as he puffed on a cigarette.
“We do have record of Thomas Reid being sent to a boarding school at the age of eight. And then, there was Edan who was kept in the closet.”
“And the third brother?”
“An orphanage, shortly after that photo was taken.”
“The Reid�
�s were entitled to the money though, weren’t they?” I asked.
“It’s hard to say. Kolney may have been forced into giving his fortune to his distant cousin, or perhaps he chose to for a reason.”
“It’s why the Reids went after you,” Barnes said. “They wanted the fortune but their father never claimed them. If they killed all the heirs, any possible heirs, they would have been entitled to it.”
“But they couldn’t get to Bran because he was always travelling.”
“That’s right.”
“What about Rosalind?” I asked. “Wouldn’t this all be hers?
Mr. Darrow laughed.
“Rosalind is a smart girl. She knew that if she married you or had a child, she would get her money. But...alas, she’s a female, of unclaimed name. She’d never be entitled to this money, and plus, it was left in a will to you. You are the rightful owner, legally.”
“I don’t know what to say. It’s quite overwhelming to learn all this, you know. I’ll need some time to sort it out.”
“Of course, Doctor Watson. But, either way, Reid can no longer hurt you,” Detective Wicksy said concernedly.
“I’m thankful for that.”
“We need to locate the third brother,” Barnes asserted.
“He could have been placed with a family,” I said. “Then he wouldn’t have known his brothers well.”
“I investigated the orphanage,” Wicksy answered, “It’s been closed for years. I can’t get any information about him.”
“But we’ll keep looking. If we can find the brother, we can ensure he won’t come after you,” Barnes replied.
“Would he be entitled to the money?”
“No,” Mr. Darrow said. “There’s no legal proof that the third son is a Kolney. You’ve nothing to worry about, Doctor Watson. I assure you.”
“It may also be a dead end,” Wicksy offered. “Perhaps the Reids never reconnected with their brother before their plot to kill the heirs.”
“Yes, that’s true, but we cannot leave any stones unturned in this investigation.’
“Yes, I suppose you’re right. And that is a good place to start.”
“What about Amy Rose?” I asked. “I don’t...I don’t think she’d come after me for the money.”
Kolney Hatch: Buried Secrets (The Secret of Kolney Hatch Book 2) Page 18
