Aunt Bessie Solves

by Diana Xarissa

  “I’d have my curtains open as soon as I woke up, if I had this view,” Andrew told her. “They’ve no neighbours behind them. They could have the curtains open while they got themselves ready for work.”

  “Except the beach is a public right of way. Anyone could walk past the back of their house at any time.”

  “Bah, then they might get an eyeful of something they weren’t expecting, that’s all. I wouldn’t want to miss out on seeing this view, not for a second.”

  “Are you opening your curtains as soon as you wake up at your holiday cottage?” Bessie asked.

  Andrew laughed. “Now that you mention it, no, I’m not, but maybe I should start. It is a truly wonderful view.”

  Bessie made a mental note to make certain she didn’t glance up at Andrew’s cottage in the mornings for the rest of his stay. “I don’t open mine, either, not until I’ve showered and dressed and feel ready to face the day. But then, I’ve lived with this view for a great many years. I suppose I’m rather spoiled with it, really.”

  “You are, but I think we all tend to take what we live with for granted. I’ve had friends tell me how lucky I am to have such wonderful views of London, for example.”

  Bessie nodded. “It’s getting late,” she said, after glancing at her watch. “We should head back so that we can get into Ramsey as close to nine as possible.”

  “I can’t believe how good I’m feeling this morning,” Andrew said a few minutes later as they made their way back towards home. “I haven’t walked this much in a long time and I’m not even a little bit tired.”

  “I hope it doesn’t catch up with you later,” Bessie said worriedly.

  “I’m sure I’ll be fine. We aren’t planning on doing any walking later, anyway. Sitting and talking to our various witnesses won’t take physical energy, just the mental sort.”

  Andrew stopped at his cottage to freshen up and Bessie continued on to Treoghe Bwaane to do the same. A few minutes later they were on their way to Ramsey.

  “We’re best parking near the town centre and walking to the man’s office,” Bessie suggested as they reached the edge of the town. “He may have a small car park outside his office, but I’d rather not take up a space there.”

  “I think that’s wise,” Andrew said. “Let’s leave the spaces there for proper customers.”

  A few minutes later Bessie found herself wondering if the man actually ever had any proper customers. His small shopfront was in between a charity shop Bessie hadn’t known was there and a fish and chips shop that had gone out of business some time ago. There was a single car in the car park in front of the small strip of shops, with space for maybe three additional cars if they were all carefully parked.

  Andrew drove past the building and found a parking spot on the next street. “I didn’t notice if there were lights on in Mr. Rogers’ office or not,” he told Bessie as they got out of the car.

  “There was a light on, but it might just have been a security light,” Bessie replied. “We may be wasting our time.”

  “If no one is there, I’m sure we can find something else to do with this lovely day,” Andrew said brightly.

  A minute later Bessie pulled on the door to the insurance agency. She was surprised when it opened. A loud buzzer rang somewhere within the building and that noise was followed by the sound of someone running down a flight of stairs.

  “Ah, good morning,” a man said as he burst through a door at the back of the small room in which Andrew and Bessie had found themselves. “Good morning. How are you today?”

  “Fine, thank you,” Andrew said. “We’re looking for Max Rogers.”

  “Really? Well, that would be me, so you’ve found him. What can I do for you, sir?” the man replied. He was probably in his mid-fifties, and Bessie thought he looked as if he’d only just finished getting dressed for the day as he’d rushed down the stairs. His shirt was only partly tucked in, his tie was off-centre, and his collar was standing up on one side.

  “We recently spoke to Howard Miles about Jeanne Stowe. He told us that you had a brief relationship with Ms. Stowe just before her death,” Andrew said.

  Bessie was surprised to see Andrew acting as if he were conducting a police investigation. She’d thought they were going to pretend they wanted insurance, and then try to get the man talking. If Mr. Rogers asked them who they were or why they were interested in Jeanne’s death, they might have a problem.

  “Ah, Howard mentioned that you might be coming to see me,” the man said. “Please, have a seat.” He gestured towards the lumpy couch that was up against the wall. While Bessie and Andrew sat down, Max pulled a chair over to join them. “You’re probably wasting your time talking to me, really. I barely knew the woman,” he said as he dropped into the seat.

  “But you were involved with her before her death?” Andrew asked.

  “We were, well, I mean, I spent some time with her, yeah. It wasn’t anything serious, though. We went out for dinner once or twice, that was about it,” Max said.

  “What did you think of her?” Andrew asked. Bessie found the question surprising, and judging from Max’s face, he did as well.

  “She was, I mean, she was nice enough, but there just wasn’t any real chemistry, if you know what I mean. I liked her well enough, but after we’d gone out a few times, well, I just stopped ringing, really. I didn’t like her enough to keep seeing her.”

  “Howard gave me the impression that you and Jeanne were sleeping together,” Andrew said.

  Max flushed. “I may have given him that impression at the time,” he said sheepishly, “but things never actually went that far.”

  “Did you ever visit her flat?” was Andrew’s next question.

  “Oh, yes, a few times. She invited me in after I’d taken her to dinner the first time. I thought, well, that she was suggesting something, but it turned out she simply needed some help moving some furniture around. I helped her out and then she sent me on my way. After our next meal, she invited me in again, and this time she wanted my help painting her sitting room. I still agreed to take her out one more time, but, well, when she told me that she was pulling up some fitted carpets I’d had enough.”

  “You think she was only using you to help with her DIY?” Andrew asked.

  “That was certainly the way it felt,” Max said. “I mean, I don’t mind helping out a friend, but it was too early in our relationship for her to be asking me to do all those things, at least in my opinion. Also, the second time, when she wanted me to help with the painting, her ex-husband was at her flat when we got back from dinner. He was already hard at work painting the ceiling. I found that odd.”

  Andrew nodded. “How long after the last time you saw her did she die?”

  “It was probably three months, or something like that. I found another woman who was a lot more fun, but we only went out for about three months. After we split up, I actually thought about ringing Jeanne again, but then I saw in the paper that she’d been killed.”

  “Any idea who might have killed her?” Andrew asked.

  Max shrugged. “At the time I pretty much assumed it was that ex-husband that I mentioned before. I reckoned he got tired of her having him do all that work around her flat. If it wasn’t him, it was probably his partner. I can’t imagine how much she must have resented his always rushing off to help Jeanne.”

  Andrew looked over at Bessie. “Was there anything else?” he asked her.

  “I understand that Howard did a lot of DIY for Jeanne, too,” Bessie said.

  “Oh, aye, Mabel was always sending him over to help out her friend. I don’t know why he put up with it, but then I don’t understand what he sees in Mabel, either, but that’s beside the point,” Max said.

  “Maybe Howard got tired of Jeanne’s demands,” Bessie suggested.

  Max laughed. “If he got tired of anyone, it would have been Mabel. She was the one sending Howard to Jeanne’s every night. I wondered, at the time, if she was trying to test H
oward or something, maybe trying to check to see if he’d be faithful. I don’t think Mabel had anything to worry about with Jeanne, though. I don’t think she was interested in sex. She just wanted men for DIY.”

  “If Jeanne’s ex-husband didn’t kill her, who might have?” Bessie asked.

  “Maybe some random guy she pulled who didn’t realise she was only looking for help with her flat?” Max replied. “I mean, I was kind of upset when she invited me into her flat after our first dinner together and then expected me to help her and not get anything in return. She was lucky I’m a nice guy who just left after I’d moved furniture for an hour. Maybe she ran into another guy who wasn’t as nice.”

  “Howard suggested that Jeanne went out with a number of his friends. Can you give us any more names of men we can speak to about her?” Andrew asked.

  Max shook his head. “I don’t know who she was involved with besides me. Most of Howard’s friends are married, anyway. I mean, I’m sure Jeanne wouldn’t have cared as long as the man in question was handy, but I think if any of them were looking to cheat, they’d be looking to actually cheat, if you know what I mean.”

  “If you remember anything that you think might help with the investigation, get in touch with Inspector John Rockwell in Laxey,” Andrew told the man as he got to his feet. “Thank you for your time today.”

  “Oh, it was no problem. I wasn’t doing anything anyway,” the man replied with surprising honesty.

  Andrew and Bessie walked out of the building and headed back towards Andrew’s car without speaking. It was only when they were both back inside the vehicle that Bessie spoke.

  “I’m almost sorry now that I never met Jeanne. She seems to have had a gift for getting men to do her hard work for her.”

  “Max didn’t seem overly taken in by her charms.”

  “No, but he did move furniture and help her paint her sitting room,” Bessie pointed out.

  “I’m really looking forward to talking to Kenny now. As we have to wait until this afternoon for that, what shall we do with the rest of our morning?”

  “How about a trip around the Manx Museum?” Bessie suggested. “You aren’t getting to do nearly enough sightseeing, but the museum isn’t far from Noble’s.”

  “That sounds good, if we’ll have enough time to see it all.”

  “We do, and there’s a café where we can get some lunch, as well,” Bessie said. “The museum opens at ten, so our timing should be about right. It’s still quite early, really.”

  “I should get up at six every day,” Andrew laughed.

  The small museum car park was nearly empty when they pulled into it a short while later. Dan, one of the museum staff, was just unlocking the doors as they approached.

  “Good morning. Welcome to the Manx Museum. How are you today, Bessie?” he greeted them.

  “I’m very well. This is my friend, Andrew. It’s his first visit to the island as a tourist.”

  “Well, then, the Manx Museum is a good place to learn more,” Dan said. “Come on in and I’ll set you up with the movie.”

  Bessie and Andrew were the only people in the small lecture theatre where the introductory historical movie was shown. When it was finished, Andrew clapped lightly.

  “That was excellent,” he told Bessie. “A brief but very informative history of the island. I can’t wait to see what the museum holds.”

  Bessie was happy to show the man around the various exhibits. They took their time and reached the café at almost exactly midday. After a light lunch, they made a brief stop in the gift shop.

  “You must let me buy you a little something,” Andrew said. “I want to thank you for showing me around the museum.”

  “I don’t want anything,” Bessie said firmly. “I’m enjoying your company and I always enjoy a trip around the museum.”

  Andrew looked around for a short while and then sighed. “I really should buy presents for the children and grandchildren while I have the chance, but I’m not in the mood to shop for all of them today.”

  “You can always buy them things from the airport gift shop at the end of the trip,” Bessie suggested. “They have all manner of things with the Manx flag or Manx cats on them.”

  Andrew laughed. “That’s just the sort of thing they’ll all expect, as well. I was thinking of getting something like jewellery for some of them, but they’ll be expecting Manx flag tea towels and I’d hate to disappoint them.”

  It was a little bit early to head for Noble’s, but Bessie knew that parking there could be difficult, so she suggested that they drive over and find a space. “We can always sit in the car and chat for a while, if we’re too early,” she said.

  As it happened, a space opened up as Andrew turned into the car park. He slid into it and then smiled at Bessie. “That was almost too easy,” he said.

  “I’m told by my friends who drive that such things never happen,” she replied.

  “Shall we sit in the car and chat or head inside and find the café?”

  “The café isn’t difficult to find, but I suppose we could sit in there and have tea and cake rather than sit here.”

  “Cake sounds good, even though we just ate lunch,” Andrew admitted.

  “We did have a light lunch,” Bessie said. “While I’m more excited about the tea than the cake, I won’t say no to either.”

  They crossed the small car park and walked into the building. Bessie led Andrew down a corridor and into the café that served both staff and visitors. She smiled when she spotted Helen at one of the tables. As soon as Helen saw her, she rushed over.

  “Bessie, I thought you’d probably be early,” she exclaimed, pulling Bessie into a hug. “Kenny should be down in about twenty minutes.”

  “We know we’re early, but we wanted some tea and maybe a slice of cake,” Bessie explained.

  “Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Helen told her. “They have a new girl making cakes and she’s very talented.”

  “Really? Anyone I would know?” Bessie asked.

  “I doubt it, but that’s her,” Helen replied, nodding towards a young girl who was writing on the large chalkboard near the counter.

  “It’s the girl whose father owns the corner shop up the road from me,” Bessie told Helen. “She moved across for a while and got a job with a bakery. Once she came back to the island, she started baking cakes and selling them by the slice in her father’s shop. I didn’t realise she was working here now.”

  “She is, and she’s already proven very popular,” Helen said. “I understand she sells her cakes to a few other restaurants around the island, as well, but the ones she makes here are just for us.”

  “Everything I tried of hers was excellent,” Bessie replied. “I’m so happy we came in early. But where are my manners?” she exclaimed. She quickly introduced Andrew to Helen before they found a table in a quiet corner.

  “What cakes are on offer today?” Bessie asked the waitress.

  “Victoria sponge, jam roly-poly, lemon cream cake, and chocolate gateau,” the woman replied.

  “Chocolate,” Bessie and Helen said at the same time.

  Andrew laughed. “I’ll have the lemon cream,” he said, “and we all need tea.”

  The woman nodded and walked away.

  “I should ring Pete and tell him that you’re here,” Helen said. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and then chuckled. “Or I could just wave to him.”

  Bessie looked over her shoulder and smiled as she spotted Pete Corkill in the doorway. Helen waved and he crossed the room to them.

  “Hello, darling,” he said, kissing the top of Helen’s head. “I knew it was your lunch break, so I thought I’d pop over and see if you were down here.”

  Bessie smiled at the pair. When she’d first met Pete, she’d wondered if he ever smiled. Today, as he looked at his new wife, his smile was wide. The pair seemed perfectly suited, she thought, as Pete slid into the seat next to Helen, who quickly introduced him to Andrew.r />
  “It’s a real pleasure to meet you,” he told Andrew. “I’ve read all of your books and found them incredibly useful.”

  “Thank you. Goodness knows I tried to focus on practical tips that investigators can use in the field.”

  “I understand you’re looking into Jeanne Stowe’s death,” Pete said.

  Andrew shrugged. “John Rockwell was kind enough to share the background on her case with me. While I’m enjoying seeing the sights around the island, I can’t resist doing a bit of poking around as well. Thus far, everyone involved with the case has been very cooperative.”

  “After all this time, the killer probably feels quite safe,” Pete suggested. “He or she won’t expect you to find out anything new, not after five years.”

  “And I probably won’t,” Andrew agreed, “but maybe I can come at the old information from a new angle. If nothing else, it’s proving to be an interesting mental exercise. The more of that I can get, the better.”

  Pete nodded. “Well, if you get tired of John’s cold case, I have several dozen I would love for you to look over. Feel free to visit my office any time.”

  Andrew laughed. “That’s a very kind invitation. I may just take you up on it one day.”

  Pete handed Andrew his card. “All of my contact details are on there, and Bessie has my home number if you’d prefer to use that.”

  Andrew dug around in his pockets and then pulled out a small notebook. He jotted down his name and a number on a sheet and then tore it out and handed it to Pete. “My home number. Feel free to ring one night when you have some time to chat. We can go over a few of those cold cases of yours. Sometimes just talking them through with someone new is all you need to shake something loose. Why, Bessie may have just cracked a thirty-year-old case for a colleague of mine.”

  “Really?” Pete asked. “I’m intrigued.”

  Andrew gave the pair a brief rundown of Lukas’s case. When he was finished, Pete shook his head.

  “I’m not sure I would have seen it, but once you said it, it makes sense. Betty killed Cindy and then took over her identity for some reason. Now she’s gone back and killed all of the witnesses. I wonder if her mother is in any danger?”