Aunt Bessie Joins (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 10)

by Diana Xarissa

  “The problem is, I don’t have any alibi and it seems like I have a motive,” Michael told her. “I was hoping you might have some ideas as to how I can persuade Inspector Corkill that I didn’t do it.”

  “The best thing you can do is tell him the whole story, if you haven’t already,” Bessie replied. “The more quickly the inspector can solve the case, the sooner you’re in the clear.”

  “But who else had a motive?” Michael asked.

  “I don’t know, but maybe you weren’t the only person Mr. Hart was trying to blackmail,” Bessie suggested.

  Michael sat back, a smile slowly spreading over his face. “I didn’t think about that,” he said. “You’ve made me feel much better.”

  “I’m glad,” Bessie said.

  She was going to remind him that he should tell the police everything he’d told her, but before she could speak, he jumped up.

  “Must go, lots to do,” he muttered, dashing away.

  Bessie settled back on the bench, but Mark was there a moment later. “Ready for home?” he asked.

  “Oh, definitely,” Bessie replied.

  At her cottage, she fixed herself a light meal and then rang Pete Corkill at home. She told him about everything that had happened that afternoon, including her conversation with Michael Beach.

  “That’s interesting,” Pete remarked when she’d finished. “I think I need to have a word with Mr. Beach tomorrow morning.”

  Bessie asked a few questions, all of which the inspector politely refused the answer. When she hung up, Bessie was feeling quite dissatisfied. When there was a case in Laxey and Inspector John Rockwell was investigating, she could sometimes get answers to her questions. She thought about ringing John and asking him for an update on the case, but she knew that doing so was inappropriate. With nothing better to do and her books lacking appeal, Bessie took herself to bed early.

  Chapter Four

  Having had an early night, Bessie found herself awake early the next morning. After a shower and breakfast, she took a long walk on the beach, stopping frequently to simply listen to the waves. The walk had its usual calming effect on her and Bessie returned to her cottage feeling refreshed. She was surprised to see a car parked outside the cottage as she approached.

  “Good morning,” John Rockwell called to Bessie as he emerged from the car.

  Bessie rushed over to give him a hug. Doona climbed out of the passenger side and came around for a hug of her own.

  “This is an unexpected pleasure,” she told the pair as she led them into the cottage.

  “I brought some pastries,” Doona said, holding up a bakery box.

  “Tea or coffee?” Bessie asked.

  “Coffee, if you don’t mind,” John replied. “I had a late night.”

  “Coffee sounds good to me, too,” Doona said.

  Bessie set the coffee maker going and then switched on the kettle as well. She preferred tea, at least when she wasn’t overtired. Doona unpacked the box of goodies onto a plate and the trio sat down with their hot drinks to enjoy breakfast together.

  “So, what’s brought you here this morning?” Bessie asked after she’d finished a croissant.

  “We wanted to make sure you were okay,” Doona said. “John rang me last night to tell me that you were stuck in the middle of another murder investigation. I hope it hasn’t upset you too much.”

  “I’m fine,” Bessie told her. “I barely knew the man, after all.”

  “You may know the killer somewhat better,” John said softly.

  Bessie nodded. “I’ve been thinking about that,” she admitted. “But maybe Mr. Hart’s death has nothing to do with ‘Christmas at the Castle.’”

  “That’s always possible,” John replied. “And I’m sure Pete will be considering every possibility.”

  “Can’t you take a few days off from working at the castle until the murder is solved?” Doona asked.

  “We open in a few days,” Bessie answered. “I have to be there to help finish everything. We’re nearly done with the decorating; today we’re meant to start setting up for the big auction on Christmas Eve. All of the items up for bid will be on display this weekend. We’re hoping that encourages people to come back on Christmas Eve for the actual auction, although we’re allowing sealed bids to be submitted if people prefer.”

  “You aren’t auctioning off anything of great value, are you?” John asked.

  “Not really,” Bessie said. “A few of the local hotels are giving away weekend packages which are worth something, but I can’t tell you exactly how much. We have some jewellery and gift certificates to various shops around the island. I don’t think any one item is worth more than five hundred pounds or so, though.”

  “So nothing worth killing someone over,” Doona said.

  “Mr. Hart didn’t have anything to do with the auction, anyway,” Bessie said. “I can’t see how his death could possibly be connected with that.”

  “I was more concerned about security,” John told her. “How are the items being displayed and what security is in place for them?”

  “You’d really have to talk to Mark about that,” Bessie replied. “I’m sure he said something about only displaying pictures of the items that are available, at least until the actual auction evening. Mark and Marjorie are in charge of the auction, though, so I didn’t pay that much attention to the plans they made.”

  “I’m sure the police in Castletown know all about it,” John said. “It’s their problem, after all, not mine. I’m just concerned about you.”

  “I’m fine, and ‘Christmas at the Castle’ is going to be wonderful,” Bessie said firmly. “Perhaps Mr. Hart just met with an unfortunate accident.”

  “His death wasn’t an accident,” John told her.

  “Oh, dear,” Bessie sighed. “In that case, we just have to hope that Pete can work out who killed him as quickly as possible.”

  “I don’t suppose you have any thoughts on the matter,” John said.

  “I don’t, really,” Bessie replied. “I did think about it, quite a lot actually, but I haven’t come up with any answers.”

  “What was he like?” John asked.

  “He was very demanding,” Bessie began. “And he was somewhat difficult as well. I think he upset every single one of the volunteers who had decorated rooms at the castle.”

  “Upset them enough to make them want to kill him?” Doona asked.

  “Over a few Christmas decorations?” Bessie shook her head. “People had hurt feelings, but that isn’t a very strong motive for murder.”

  “I understand he’d had a disagreement with the woman who brought him over to help with the event,” John said.

  “Yes, apparently he and Carolyn Teare had some sort of falling out Monday evening,” Bessie told him. “That’s why he moved to the Seaside Hotel. He was meant to be staying with her while he was here.”

  The pastries were all gone and the coffee pot was empty. Doona got up and started to tidy the kitchen.

  “We need to get to work,” John said after glancing at his watch. “I’d love to stay and hear more about the case, but that will have to wait for another time.”

  “Stop by any time,” Bessie told him. “Although I’d much rather find other things to talk about.”

  John nodded and then gave her a hug. “I’m hoping Pete will have the whole matter resolved in a day or two.”

  “Me, too,” Bessie said.

  She let the pair out, smiling as she watched John hold Doona’s door for her. The pair seemed to be back on friendly terms after their awkward patch. Back in the cottage, she quickly finished the tidying and then checked her appearance. She’d only just finished combing her hair when Mark arrived to take her to the castle.

  “I was wondering,” Mark said as they made their way south. “That is, I thought maybe you might be able to find time to talk to everyone today.”

  “Of course I can. What do you want me to talk to them about?”

  Mark ch
uckled. “I’m explaining myself badly,” he said apologetically. “I was just thinking that you’ve been through murder investigations before, and I thought maybe you could take time to reassure everyone, that’s all. I’m certain some of our volunteers are quite upset about the whole thing.”

  “Has anyone said they won’t be coming back to the castle?” Bessie asked.

  “Oh, no, at least no one has rung me. Never mind, I’m rather upset about it all myself, you see.”

  “I do see,” Bessie told him. “And it’s understandable that you’re upset. But it’s quite possible that whoever killed Christopher Hart had nothing whatsoever to do with our little event. He certainly seemed like the type of person to have more than one enemy, didn’t he?”

  Mark nodded. “You’re making me feel better, which is exactly why I want you to try to chat with everyone else. I’m sure you’ll make all of our volunteers feel better as well.”

  “What about the others on the committee? Do they need reassurance as well?”

  “I spoke with Marjorie last night. She was caught up in the murder investigation at the museum in May, so this isn’t exactly new to her. I think she’s holding up just fine. I don’t know how Carolyn and Mary are feeling. I haven’t had a chance to speak to either of them except in passing.”

  “I’ll make a point of talking to everyone today,” Bessie told him. She smiled to herself. She’d been planning to try to do that anyway, but with a rather different motive. Bessie was determined to help Pete solve the murder as quickly as possible, ideally before “Christmas at the Castle” opened.

  Before they’d even walked into the castle, Bessie had her first opportunity to speak to one of the volunteers. Agnes Clucas pulled her car into the space next to Mark’s as Bessie climbed out.

  “I’ll just wait for Agnes,” Bessie told Mark. “You go on ahead.”

  “How are you, Bessie dear?” Agnes asked as she stepped out of her car. “I just need to get some things out of the boot.”

  “I’m fine,” Bessie told her. She watched as Agnes unlocked her boot and pulled out a large box. “But how are you?”

  Agnes shrugged. “I’m doing just fine,” she said. “I was thinking about what Mr. Hart said about the rainbow trees, though. I found a few ornaments at home that I thought might help fix the room.”

  She opened the box and showed Bessie several boxes of multi-coloured ornaments. “Mr. Hart said the trees were all too alike and the end result was boring,” she told Bessie as Bessie admired the beautiful glass baubles. “I thought if I scattered these throughout the room, it might make the room more interesting, without upsetting the rainbow theme.”

  “They’re wonderful,” Bessie said. “And I think they’ll be perfect.”

  “That’s what Ms. Harper said, too,” Agnes said. “I told her I had these baubles and she thought they’d be exactly what the room needed. I hope she still thinks so when she sees them.”

  “I’m sure she will,” Bessie said. “But I’m worried about everyone,” she told Agnes in a confiding tone. “It isn’t very pleasant, being mixed up in a murder investigation.”

  “Oh, I’m sure someone from across came over and killed Mr. Hart,” Agnes said. She picked up the box and stepped back from the car. “If you could just shut the boot?” she asked Bessie.

  Bessie complied and then fell into step with her. “So you don’t think Mr. Hart’s murder has anything to do with ‘Christmas at the Castle?’” she asked.

  “Oh, I can’t see how it could,” Agnes replied. “No one would get that upset about a few Christmas decorations, would they? But having met Mr. Hart, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that he upset people just about everywhere he went. I suppose some of those upsets must have been over things rather more serious than our holiday happening.”

  “And you think they followed him over here and killed him?”

  “I should imagine they’d want to do it as far away from their own home as possible,” Agnes said.

  Bessie couldn’t argue with the logic of that. She held doors open for the other woman, stopping with her in the room Agnes had decorated.

  Agnes put the box down and quickly added a few baubles to one of the trees. “It does work rather well, doesn’t it?” she asked, looking at Bessie.

  “It really does,” Bessie agreed.

  She crossed Agnes off her mental list of people to see and then made her way to the banquet room. Mark had called a committee meeting for first thing this morning. Bessie could only hope she’d have time to chat with some of the members before the meeting got started.

  Mary was standing in the centre of the banquet room when Bessie arrived.

  “Ah, I was starting to think I was in the wrong place,” she greeted Bessie. “It’s quite spooky in here when you’re all alone.”

  “As far as I know, there’s only one ghost in Castle Rushen and she haunts the throne room,” Bessie told her.

  Mary shivered. “I can’t help but feel as if poor Christopher Hart is haunting the castle now,” she said. “I think I would, if I were him.”

  “I think, if I were able to come back as a ghost, I’d haunt somewhere lovely and warm, like the French Riviera,” Bessie said. “I’d much rather watch people enjoying themselves than skulk around an old castle that’s cold and damp.”

  Mary laughed. “I wonder if ghosts get a choice,” she said thoughtfully.

  “If I get a chance, I’ll let you know,” Bessie said, laughing.

  “Oh, I do hope we get a choice and we can haunt people together,” Mary said. “I think I’d like to haunt a few houses and scare one or two people who have been quite terrible to George and myself after all the unpleasantness.”

  George’s former business partner had recently disappeared, taking a large amount of stolen money with him. While George had been cleared of any wrongdoing in the matter, there was a small segment of the island’s population who were now avoiding the couple. As George was a lively and gregarious man who thrived on social interaction, he was struggling to accept a quieter lifestyle. Mary was very shy, and Bessie had no doubt that she didn’t miss their formerly active social life even the tiniest bit. But Mary loved her husband enormously and Bessie wasn’t surprised that the woman resented the way he was being treated.

  “Let’s go to the French Riviera instead,” Bessie said. “Or maybe somewhere exciting, like New York City or Paris.”

  “I’ve never been to New York,” Mary said thoughtfully. “I suppose that could be fun.”

  “But how are you?” Bessie changed the subject. “Not too upset by Mr. Hart’s untimely death, I hope.”

  “Oh, I’m okay,” Mary replied. “I barely knew the man and I didn’t much like him, although that’s a terrible thing to say.”

  “I didn’t like him, either,” Bessie told her. “He didn’t try to be likeable.”

  “No, I suppose not,” Mary agreed. “Anyway, aside from talking to the police, which always makes me nervous even though I’ve not done anything wrong, I’m just fine.”

  “Good. I know some of the volunteers are a little upset,” Bessie said. “I’m going to try to speak to them all today.”

  “That’s good of you. I’m sure none of them could be involved in Mr. Hart’s death, though. What possible reason could anyone on the island have for wanting him dead?”

  Bessie shrugged. “That’s for the police to work out,” she said firmly.

  “Of course it is,” Mary agreed.

  “I do hope I’m not late,” Marjorie said from the doorway.

  “Not at all,” Bessie assured her. “Mark still hasn’t made his way up here yet and I’ve no idea where Carolyn is.”

  “She’ll be running late,” Marjorie said with a laugh. “She always is.”

  Bessie nodded. Carolyn was nearly always the last to arrive for their committee meetings.

  “I’m just going to ring George,” Mary said. “He’s meant to be bringing Natasha down in a little while. I don’t want him to forge
t.”

  She walked to the far end of the room to make her call, leaving Bessie with Marjorie.

  “So, how are you?” Bessie asked her friend.

  “I’m fine. How are you? Is it awful being caught up in another murder investigation?”

  “It isn’t pleasant,” Bessie admitted. “But it is starting to feel rather routine.”

  “I was up half the night, thinking about Christopher Hart,” Marjorie said. “I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I just can’t help but wonder who could have killed him. I can’t seem to work out a motive.”

  “He wasn’t a very nice man,” Bessie remarked.

  “No, but lots of people aren’t very nice and no one kills them,” Marjorie said.

  “Maybe someone followed him from across,” Bessie suggested. “I’d like to think that his death has nothing to do with anyone I know, anyway.”

  “Oh, I hope you’re right. I’m looking forward to Friday and the big grand opening. I really think this event is exactly what the island needs at Christmas. It should be perfect for families, young couples, grandparents, everyone, really.”

  Bessie laughed. “I hope it lives up to your expectations,” she said.

  Before Marjorie could reply, Mark walked into the room. Mary ended her call and joined the others before Mark spoke.

  “Carolyn just rang,” he said, frowning. “Something has come up and she’s asked us to postpone the committee meeting until one o’clock this afternoon. Is that okay with everyone?”

  “It doesn’t matter to me. I was planning to be here all day, anyway,” Bessie replied.

  “So was I,” Mary said. “Natasha is coming down soon and we were going to work with everyone on the last finishing touches.”

  “I have to run back up to Douglas for a meeting,” Marjorie said. “But I can be back for one, or a little after.”

  “Great, thanks, everyone,” Mark said. “I’ll be in the office downstairs going over ticket sales and other paperwork if anyone needs me.”

  Marjorie disappeared behind Mark, and Mary was quickly back on her phone. That left Bessie free to start trying to find everyone so that she could speak to them. She headed towards the nearest decorated room. Michael was standing in the centre of it with his back to Bessie, talking on his mobile.