Aunt Bessie Solves
Page 7
“No. Everyone that the inspector spoke with said pretty much the same thing. She was a hard worker who was friendly and compassionate. I already told you that Nick Grant was unhappy with her being late occasionally, but she was in no danger of losing her job over the matter and as far as the inspector could determine, the car had finally been repaired properly.” John sighed. “As unlikely as suicide seemed, though, no one could imagine any reason why anyone would have murdered her, either.”
“Tell me more about her,” Andrew requested. “She and her husband had been apart for three years. Surely there were other men in her life after him?”
“Right after she and Kenny separated, she started seeing a man called Ron Adams,” John said. “They were only together for a few months, and from what Mabel had to say it wasn’t a particularly happy relationship, but it was over at least two years before Jeanne died.”
“Unhappy in what way?” Bessie wanted to know.
“Mabel just said they fought a lot. The man was questioned as well, but he was living in Peel by that time, and there was no evidence that he’d been in touch with Jeanne after their relationship had ended,” John told her.
“And someone else came after Ron?” Andrew asked.
“Yes, within a few months of ending things with Ron, Jeanne started seeing a man called James Poole. They were together for about a year. According to Mabel, things were getting serious, but then Mr. Poole’s mother fell ill. She lived in Brighton and Mr. Poole ended up moving back there to be with her,” John said. “According to Mabel, Jeanne was disappointed that the relationship ended, and maybe had entertained some hopes of moving with Mr. Poole, but in the end it was a friendly enough split.”
“And that was still a year or more before Jeanne died?” Bessie checked that she was following the time line.
“Yes, about that. As far as Mabel knew, Jeanne remained single after that,” John said.
“That’s hard to believe,” Andrew said. “I mean, from what you’ve told us, the woman moved from relationship to relationship with only small gaps between them. It would be unusual for her to then remain single for over a year, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe she was having trouble finding someone,” Bessie suggested. “She was getting older, getting to an age where most men are already married to other women, maybe?”
“So maybe she was involved with a married man,” Andrew suggested.
“If she was, they were very discreet,” John told him. “Obviously, Inspector Kelly looked at Nick pretty closely. He couldn’t find any evidence of anything between the pair.”
“So who were the main suspects?” Andrew asked.
“Inspector Kelly never managed to develop anything like a short list of suspects,” John sighed.
“Means, motive, opportunity?” Bessie wondered.
“The various drugs that were found in Jeanne’s system were all fairly typically prescribed sleep aids. It wasn’t so much what she was given, but the quantity and variety of what she was given that killed her. But it wouldn’t have been difficult for the killer to save a few pills here and there from every prescription he or she was given, and that seems most likely to have been what he or she did, actually,” John said.
“Did any of the suspects admit to being prescribed any of the drugs?” Bessie asked.
“I believe all of them admitted to having tried at least one of the drugs,” John told her. “As I said, they were typical sleep aids, and at the time there was a doctor in Ramsey who seemed inclined to prescribe them for just about everything.”
Bessie nodded. “Yes, I remember him. He did tend to give out sleeping tablets as if they could cure everything from the common cold to cancer. Several of my friends visited him regularly and ended up with quite a stockpile of different tablets. I never once thought about the dangers of them.”
“Inspector Kelly determined that everyone connected with the case had access to at least some of the different drugs that were found in the body. Some of them could have been obtained illegally or could have been stolen from family members or friends, as well. The inspector treated the case as if everyone had the means to commit the crime,” John explained.
“I hope that doctor is no longer practicing medicine,” Andrew said.
“He is not,” John told him. “There was talk of an investigation, but he retired and moved to Spain before it took place.”
“What about opportunity? When did Jeanne actually die?” Bessie asked.
“I believe I told you that the body was found on Tuesday. The coroner had difficulty establishing a time of death, but he believed she died on either Friday evening or early Saturday,” John said.
“That’s a pretty big range,” Andrew sighed.
“It is, yes. The inspector couldn’t determine that anyone had a solid alibi for the entire period,” John said.
“So everyone had the means and the opportunity and we have no idea of the motive,” Bessie summarised.
“Yes, that’s correct,” John said. “When you put it that way, it seems quite hopeless, really.”
“It’s never hopeless, but it is complicated,” Andrew said. “A lot of time has passed, as well, which is unfortunate. It sounds as though several of the key witnesses have left the island.”
“Which is why the chief constable doesn’t want the case reopening,” John said. “He’d much rather I focus my efforts on other things.”
“But he can’t stop me from poking around,” Andrew replied with a grin, “and I’m sure Bessie will help. Won’t you?”
Bessie smiled. “If that’s your idea of a fun thing to do on your holiday, I suppose I don’t mind helping.”
“It is actually exactly what I like to do on holiday,” Andrew told her. “We’ll have to find ways to meet the various suspects that seem natural, though. It would be probably be best if we didn’t tell anyone that I used to be a police inspector, as well.”
“I can tell you how to find Mabel and Amanda,” John said. “They’re probably your best place to start.”
“Where can we find them, then?” Andrew asked.
John flipped through his notebook. “Amanda works for the Ramey branch of the island’s largest bank. She’s a loan specialist now.”
“Maybe it’s time to think about taking out a loan to do some improvements on my cottage,” Bessie mused.
John grinned. “Mabel waits tables at a café in Port St. Mary. I’m sure you’ll be able to find an excuse to visit her there.”
“Which café?” Bessie asked.
John told her and Bessie frowned. “It wouldn’t be my first choice for a meal in Port St. Mary, or even my second or third,” she said.
“Maybe we could just go for tea and a slice of cake or something,” Andrew suggested.
“I suppose so,” Bessie said, “but only because you want to talk to Mabel. I would never take anyone there otherwise. I’ve no idea how they even stay in business, really. The last time I ate there, which was a great many years ago now, it was truly dreadful, and from what I hear it hasn’t improved any.”
“Now I’m looking forward to visiting,” Andrew laughed. “If only to see if it truly is as bad as you say it is.”
Bessie shook her head. “You’ll be sorry that you said that,” she predicted.
“After you’ve spoken to the two of them, we should meet again and talk everything through,” John suggested. “I’m doing some investigating on my own, just checking to see where the people who’ve left the island are now. I don’t know if it matters, but I’d like to know more about Jefferson and Julie Grant and their son, Nick.”
“I’m with you on that,” Andrew said. “Nick is the one person I’d most like to interview, actually, but I’m not sure a trip to Australia is in the cards, at least not right now.”
“Have you ever been?” John asked.
“Yes, a few times,” Andrew replied. “I was first sent there during the war, but I went back for a few international conferences and the like. My wif
e and I even had a holiday there once. It’s a very different country, and an incredibly beautiful one.”
“I’m not sure I’d like the heat, “John said.
“I’m quite sure I wouldn’t like the spiders, snakes, and crocodiles,” Bessie said firmly.
“You don’t see a lot of them in the cities,” Andrew told her. “If I do end up going to talk to Nick Grant, I’m going to insist that you come with me.”
Bessie only just stopped herself from refusing immediately. A trip to Australia was something that needed more than just a moment’s thought.
“But let’s get back to your cold case,” John said, nodding at Andrew. “I have a few questions for you.”
Chapter 5
“Go ahead,” Andrew invited.
“Who identified the body?” John asked.
Andrew exchanged glances with Bessie. “Her sister,” he said.
“Is it possible that the dead woman wasn’t Betty Jones, then?” John asked. “We know the women lied about the phone call. Could they have lied about the victim’s identity as well?”
“It’s a possibility,” Andrew admitted. “One that never occurred me, I’m ashamed to say. Bessie picked up on the same thing.”
“I think that may have coloured how you told me the story,” John said. “If the body wasn’t Betty’s, though, whose might it have been?”
“Bessie’s idea was that it was Cindy who was murdered and that the women agreed to identify the body as Betty’s for some reason,” Andrew told him.
“I’m not sure I understand why Cindy confessed, whether she was actually Betty or not,” John said.
“That’s just one of the many questions that remain unanswered,” Andrew told him. “I’m checking into the money that Betty left behind to see where it went. I know that it was meant to go to charity, because Cindy was unable to inherit, but I’m trying to work out exactly which charity benefitted.”
“It isn’t that difficult to set up a charity,” John suggested, “but if she’d done that before she faked her own death, that suggests a great deal of planning went into it.”
“It does, yes,” Andrew agreed. “I’ve suggested to my colleague that he try to track down Cindy Jones. She was released from prison years ago, of course.”
“I’d like to know what happened to the other women, too,” John said. “If the body really was Cindy’s, that suggests that Betty killed her and then assumed her identity. I’ve no idea why she would have done that, but that seems like the most likely scenario, from what you’ve told me.”
“I’d never once considered the idea until Bessie suggested it, but now that it’s out there, I have to agree with you. I couldn’t imagine why anyone would have killed Betty. She was on holiday with her friends, celebrating her engagement. Cindy was far less popular with the other women. That doesn’t mean they wanted her dead, but she seems a more likely victim than Betty, anyway,” Andrew said.
“Let me know what your colleague tells you about all of the women,” John requested. “I find the case intriguing.”
“Oh, I’ll let you know,” Andrew assured him. “I have a feeling things could get interesting.”
The pair chatted for a few minutes about police work in general while Bessie listened. She couldn’t help but feel as if she’d have been a good police inspector, had she been given the opportunity. Perhaps that was only because of all of the murder mysteries she’d read over the years, though. Maybe she was simply always looking for red herrings and unlikely solutions.
Bessie was starting to get a bit restless when they all heard a loud crashing noise. John winced and then got to his feet.
“What have I said about that front door?” he shouted.
“Sorry, dad,” Amy said as she dashed into the room. She gave John a quick hug that wiped the angry look off his face instantly. “I’m just passing through from Jen’s house to Kate’s and I wanted to grab a bite to eat really quickly.”
“There’s plenty of food in the kitchen,” John told her. “I went shopping this morning.”
“You’re the best,” Amy said as she rushed away.
“And that was Amy,” John said to Andrew in an apologetic tone.
“She’s lovely,” Andrew replied. “She must resemble her mother.”
“Yes, she does,” John agreed as a series of emotions flashed across his face.
“Dad, can I eat the ham in the package you wrote ‘do not eat’ on?” Amy’s voice called from the kitchen.
John rolled his eyes. “That’s for my lunches this week,” he shouted back.
“I think Bessie and I should get out of your way so that you can protect your ham,” Andrew laughed. “I promise, it gets better.”
John nodded. “I’m still getting used to having them here. I know I’ll miss them when they move back to their mother’s.” He walked Bessie and Andrew to the door where Bessie gave him a hug before she followed Andrew back down the short stretch of pavement to Andrew’s car.
“It’s later than I realised,” Andrew said before he started the engine. “It’s nearly time for dinner. Where would you like to go?”
“I’ve no idea,” Bessie replied. “What sounds good to you?”
“Lunch seems to have been a long time ago and we only had soup. I think I’d like something more substantial for dinner.”
“We had ice cream, too,” Bessie pointed out.
“Does that mean you aren’t hungry?”
“No, actually, I’m really hungry now that you’ve mentioned it,” Bessie admitted.
“So, where can we get a good and filling meal?”
“Assuming you don’t want to drive all over the island, there’s a nice café in Laxey or a good fish and chips shop,” Bessie told him.
“I don’t mind driving elsewhere, but if the café in Laxey is good, let’s go there.”
“It’s near the Laxey Wheel, and I’m sure the owner will appreciate the business.”
“Will he?”
“She will,” Bessie said. “She’s a lovely woman called Jasmina who moved over here from Devon. She met a man on the Internet, you see, and he turned out to be something less than advertised. Doona and I have been trying to eat at her café at least once a week. She does great food, and she’s already rid herself of the man for whom she relocated to the island.”
“Good for her. Now I’m looking forward to dinner. Of course, I’m always looking forward to food. I hope she does puddings.”
“She does excellent puddings.”
The tiny café only had room for twelve customers around its three tables at any time. Bessie and Andrew walked up to the door just as Jasmina was unlocking it.
“Hello, Bessie,” the short, plump woman said. “I’m a bit late opening today, but I’ll tell you all about that later.”
Bessie introduced her to Andrew and then they followed the woman into the tiny building.
“Sit anywhere,” Jasmina said, waving a hand. “The cooker isn’t working properly again, but I can do sandwiches and toasties, and I put a big pot of beef stew on this afternoon. It won’t take but a few minutes to warm through, if you fancy it.”
“That does sound good,” Andrew said. “Although I’m hungry enough to eat just about anything.”
Jasmina laughed. “My kind of customer,” she said.
Bessie and Andrew settled into chairs at the table furthest from the door. Jasmina disappeared behind the counter to get their drinks. A moment later the door opened and a group of teenagers flooded in.
“Mum, we’re here,” one of the girls shouted.
“That’s Jasmina’s daughter,” Bessie whispered. “Her name is Tamazin.”
“There are more of them then there are chairs,” Andrew noted.
“Maybe we should go,” Bessie said with a frown.
“Don’t shout. We have customers,” Jasmina said as she swept back into the room. She put Bessie’s and Andrew’s drinks on their table and then winked at Bessie. “I just have to deal with this lot,
if you don’t mind waiting a moment.”
Bessie shook her head. She didn’t mind. In fact, she was curious what the children wanted.
Jasmina was in and out of the kitchen in a flash, returning with a large box. “Right, box lunches for fifteen. I hope that’s enough,” she said.
“It’s perfect. Thanks, mum,” Tamazin said, taking the box from her mother.
“I think I should take that,” one of the boys said.
“I’ll let you. Not because I think you’re stronger than me, but if you’re dumb enough to want to carry it, I should take advantage,” Tamazin laughed.
“There are cold drinks in the bottom of the box, too,” Jasmina said. “I expect you home by midnight.”
Tamazin rolled her eyes. “Yes, Mum, I know.”
The group made their way back out of the room, leaving it suddenly feeling much more spacious. Bessie smiled at Jasmina. “It looks as if your daughter is making friends.”
“Yes, she definitely is,” Jasmina grinned. “She’s refused to even consider going back to Devon, which is just as well, as I’m starting to really like the island.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” Bessie said.
“And I’ve even met a rather nice gentleman,” Jasmina added. “I’m taking things slowly, after the unfortunate experience I had with Richard, but so far he seems lovely.”
“It’s a small island. I wonder if I know him,” Bessie said.
Jasmina blushed. “I suspect you probably do, as the island is so small.” She glanced back and forth, as if checking that they were still alone, before taking a step closer to Bessie. “His name is Henry Costain. He works for Manx National Heritage. He’s been working at the Laxey Wheel all month, which is why I was late opening. I was over chatting with him and I forgot about the time.”
Bessie grinned. She knew Henry well and she was pleased to hear that he and Jasmina had become friends. As far as Bessie knew, Henry had been a lifelong bachelor until a short time back. He’d started seeing a woman called Laura sometime before Christmas, but the relationship had ended when she’d moved back to the UK. Perhaps Henry and Jasmina would have better luck. “I do know Henry. He’s a lovely man,” Bessie told her.