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47
ST. LUMIS
MAJOR TRUMBO’S B&B
TUESDAY AFTERNOON
Mrs. Trumbo eyed her up and down. “So, it’s you again. I suppose I shouldn’t call you Ms. Cinelli any longer, Agent Cinelli, excuse me, Special Agent Cinelli. Yes, Maude Filly called me, told me who you were and all the questions you had for her. I’d like to know why I had to hear this from Maude.”
“Yes, Mrs. Trumbo, I’m Special Agent Pippa Cinelli.”
Mrs. Trumbo studied them, then turned to Wilde. “I suppose you were in on this deception as well, Chief Wilde? You knew she was coming here under false pretenses, spying on everyone?”
Wilde shook his head. “No, ma’am. Agent Cinelli was sent to St. Lumis undercover. I only found out when she came to me for help after she was attacked yesterday in that abandoned grocery store out on the edge of town.”
“We’d like to talk to you about everything that’s happened, Mrs. Trumbo.”
Mrs. Trumbo clearly wasn’t ready to make peace. She huffed, tried to smile, then jerked her head toward the living room. “All right, for all the good it will do you. I don’t know a blessed thing about who sent you that stupid puzzle of Major Trumbo you told Maude about, nor do I like my place or my guests being spied on, well, not that you’ve been spying on any of my guests, but still.”
Mrs. Trumbo sat herself in a large wing chair opposite them. “Now, Agent Cinelli, Chief Wilde, say what you have to say.” She looked down at her watch. “I have a pot roast in the oven for dinner, and it needs watching.”
Wilde said, “Mrs. Filly told us you disliked Major Trumbo as much as she did. She told us he was a cheater, and that’s how he met you.”
“That’s right. I met him when he came to Baltimore on business and stayed at the Wilson, the hotel I managed. He was very smooth. Until after we married.” She snorted.
Pippa pointed to the urn on the mantel. “Then why did you put his urn in a place of honor?”
Mrs. Trumbo shrugged. “It was the most expensive urn the funeral home had, perfect for the mantel, a lovely reminder the old coot’s dead. Do you know, I picture him in that urn sailing down the River Styx, on his way to hell. It’s enough to make me smile.
“Now, you said you wanted to talk, so talk. I have a pot roast in the oven, as I told you. By the way, will you be staying here tonight, Agent Cinelli, or will you be going back to Chief Wilde’s lovely little cottage?”
Pippa said, “Since you serve such wonderful breakfasts, Mrs. Trumbo, I’ll be staying in my honeymoon suite. You mentioned you spoke with Mrs. Filly about our visit to her this morning.”
“Of course, Maude called me right away. She thought nothing this exciting had happened in St. Lumis in years.” Mrs. Trumbo sat back in her chair, crossed her arms over her ample bosom, and waited.
“Mrs. Trumbo, no one here in St. Lumis knew I was an FBI agent, not even Chief Wilde. As he said, I was here undercover. Yet within a day and a half, someone found out who I was and attacked me. Did you happen to see anyone go into my room while I was out at the Halloween party at Leveler’s Inn?”
Mrs. Trumbo gave her the stink eye. “So the two of you think I’m a dim bulb? Why not say it right out? You have the gall to wonder if I snooped around in your honeymoon suite, found out who you really were, and then told everyone the FBI had invaded St. Lumis?”
Wilde said, “So did you, Mrs. Trumbo?”
“Well, of course I went into her room Saturday night. I go into everyone’s room to straighten up, make sure there are clean towels, fluff pillows, and the like. Saturday night was no exception. Did I search your things? Of course not. Neither would my daily woman, who does all the deep cleaning. I do not search my guests’ rooms. And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t brag about it.”
Pippa said, “Mrs. Trumbo, I left my tablet on the table by the sofa. I was in a hurry so I suppose I could have left it on, which I try never to do, and that’s on me if I did. Did you look in my tablet, Mrs. Trumbo? Happen to notice what I was reading?”
“No, I did not.”
Pippa hardened her voice. “Then tell me this, Mrs. Trumbo. Do you know of anyone other than yourself or your daily woman who could have gone up to my room?”
Mrs. Trumbo drew a deep breath. “All right, I remember Grizzlie Cole was here to check on the heating in the guest rooms. You know old Grizzlie, Chief. He was here for only a half hour, made a few adjustments, and charged me thirty bucks. Thirty bucks! It’s a crime.”
Wilde said, “So besides Grizzlie, only guests went up those stairs?”
“That’s right.”
“Did anyone come in and ask about Ms. Cinelli?”
“No, no one.”
