“Bessie, what a lovely surprise,” he said. “Mary was here last week and she promised she’d bring you in again soon, and now you’re here and she isn’t.”
“I brought a friend of mine who hasn’t been here before,” Bessie told him after a hug. “This is Grace.”
“It’s lovely to meet you,” Dan said, hugging Grace as well. “Let me find you a table. Someone must be ready to leave.”
He looked around the room and then nodded at a couple who were gathering up their things. One of the waitresses rushed over and cleared the table as the couple headed for the door.
“Everything was wonderful, as always,” the woman told Dan as they walked past.
“Glad to hear it,” Dan replied. He ushered Bessie and Doona to the now empty table. “The girls are a little run off their feet today,” he said. “And I had a break in the kitchen, so I thought I’d give them a hand.”
“How’s Carol?” Bessie asked.
“She’s well. She still works a few nights a week, but mostly she’s trying to take it easy and get extra healthy so she’ll be ready to start making a baby soon.”
Bessie nodded. “And what’s on the menu today?” she asked.
“I was feeling Italian today,” the man replied. “On our sampler platter you’ll get a small square of lasagne, a serving of spaghetti with mini meatballs, a teeny tiny pizza, and a few ravioli with Bolognese filling.”
“That sounds amazing,” Grace said.
“It sounds perfect. Dare I ask what’s for pudding?” was Bessie’s reply.
“Keeping to theme, you get a piece of biscotti, a small square of tiramisu, a cannoli, and a scoop of chocolate gelato, because every pudding plate needs some chocolate,” Dan told her.
“How can I possibly save room for pudding?” Grace demanded. “I’ll never be able to eat all of the main course. There’s no way I’ll be able to manage pudding.”
“We’ll eat slowly and take whatever we can’t finish home with us,” Bessie told her. “That way you only have to eat the gelato now.”
Grace nodded. “I’m sure Hugh would be thrilled if I took a few things home with me.”
“Of course he would,” Bessie laughed.
After they’d ordered, Bessie sat back and looked around the room. “I’m glad they still do such a good business. It isn’t the most convenient location. I was worried they’d struggle.”
“I know several people who eat here two or three times a week,” Grace told her. “It’s hugely popular with lots of Douglas young people.”
“It looks to be very popular with lots of Douglas businessmen as well,” Bessie said. “Nearly every man in here is wearing a suit.”
“Should we practice a little bit?” Grace asked.
Bessie smiled. “We could. I brought my notes.” She pulled them out of her handbag and cleared her throat. “Kys t’ou?”
“Ta mee braew,” Grace said.
For several minutes the pair worked their way through just about everything they’d learned in their class thus far.
“That’s it,” Bessie said eventually. “I don’t know anything else in Manx, not a single word.”
“We did really well, though,” Grace replied, clearly pleased.
“And you did it without any notes, so you did much better than I did.”
“Hugh and I have been practicing for twenty minutes every night before bed,” Grace told her. “Hugh wants to keep up with John, and apparently he practices all the time.”
“Yes, I understand he’s been practicing with Doona as well. You’re all doing much more than I am.”
“I could ring you every afternoon after school lets out for a chat,” Grace offered.
“That’s very kind of you, but I talk to Doona fairly regularly. I practice quite enough for me.”
“Well, the offer is always good. Ring me if you change your mind or if you want a bit of extra practice once in a while.”
Bessie nodded and then began to gather up her notes. She frowned when she realised that she’d accidently brought her notes on Julie Randall’s murder with her as well.
“What’s wrong?” Grace asked as Bessie made the face.
“Nothing. I just didn’t mean to bring these notes.”
“Are they notes for your paper next month?”
“No, they’re, well…” Bessie trailed off. She didn’t want to upset Grace by talking about murder over their lunch.
“They’re what?” Grace asked and then blushed. “I’m sorry. I’m being incredibly nosy. You don’t have to answer that.”
“It’s fine,” Bessie assured her. “I was just taking some notes while I was reading the paper this morning. I’m curious about Julie Randall’s murder, that’s all.”
Grace’s eyes got wide for a moment and then she nodded. “It’s really sad. Do you know, when I first saw the paper, I thought the woman in the photos was that Laura from our language class.”
“I did as well,” Bessie replied. “They looked a great deal alike and they lived in the same building.”
“You don’t think the killer was trying to kill Laura, do you?”
“It’s certainly one possibility,” Bessie said.
Grace sat back in her chair and looked thoughtful for a minute. While she was thinking, Dan delivered their food.
“Here we are, then,” he said brightly. “Two Italian Sampler Plates. Can I get you anything else right now?”
Bessie looked at the huge amount of food that he’d put in front of her and shook her head. “I think we’ll be good for hours,” she muttered.
“Everything smells wonderful,” Grace said. “But I wasn’t expecting garlic bread as well.”
“You can’t have an Italian feast without a little bit of garlic bread,” the man laughed.
Bessie and Grace both picked up their forks as Dan walked away. For several minutes they focussed on enjoying their meal. Grace eventually broke the silence.
“I can’t believe how good everything is. I want to eat here every day for the rest of my life.”
“It is really good,” Bessie agreed. “I especially like the ravioli.”
“I think I like the pizza best. Or maybe the spaghetti. The mini meatballs are fabulous.”
Bessie speared a meatball and ate it in a single bite. “You’re right. They are,” she said.
“Is everything okay?” one of the passing waitresses asked.
“It’s wonderful,” Bessie told her.
“I’ll let Dan know,” she said with a grin.
“I don’t know Laura very well,” Grace said after a few more minutes of eating. “She seems nice enough, though. Why would anyone want to kill her?”
“Maybe something happened before she moved to the island. She hasn’t been here very long,” Bessie said, not wanting to lie outright, but not willing to share what she knew, either.
“I hope so,” Grace surprised her by saying. “I’d much rather she was the intended victim than Mrs. Randall.”
“You knew her?”
“Only slightly,” Grace replied. “But I know her husband.”
Bessie glanced at her notes that she’d left on the table when the food had been delivered. “His name is Humphrey?”
Grace grinned. “I’ve always called him Mr. Randall, but yes, that is his Christian name.”
“How do you know him?”
“He’s a teacher at the high school that I went to,” Grace explained. “He’s probably getting close to retirement now, which is a shame. If Hugh and I ever have children, I’d love for them to have Mr. Randall as a teacher.”
“He’s good, then?”
“One of the best. He teaches maths and he’s absolutely passionate about it. I don’t even like maths and I loved his class. He just has a way of making it all seem, I don’t know, fascinating.”
“I understand that he and his wife hadn’t been married for all that long?”
“I think they got married about four years ago,” Grace replied. “But the
y’d been together for years before they got married. I remember he used to bring her to school functions. She seemed like a really nice person. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt her.”
“Do you think it was a happy marriage?”
Grace shrugged. “I bumped into them a few months ago at ShopFast on a Saturday and they seemed happy enough. We just exchanged pleasantries, really. They didn’t seem unhappy, anyway.”
“I wonder if there were any problems at her work,” Bessie said. She’d been considering that since she’d first heard about the murder.
“I highly doubt it,” Grace said. “My father works for the same bank where she worked. He’d know if there were any issues.”
“I didn’t realise your father was in banking.”
Grace nodded. “He loves it. All those numbers to add up all day long. He and Mr. Randall have a lot in common.”
“So your father knew Julie Randall?”
“Only slightly. He’s a senior vice president. He doesn’t spend a lot of time talking with the customer associates, but he always makes an effort to introduce himself to everyone and greet them by name when he sees them around the branches.”
“Does he work at the corporate headquarters building?” Bessie asked, thinking about Marcus Porter and his job in IT.
“He does, but he travels to the branches regularly. When I saw the paper, I asked him about Mrs. Randall. He said she was pleasant enough and a good worker, but he couldn’t really tell me anything else.”
“I suppose that’s understandable,” Bessie said. “Disappointing, but understandable,” she sighed.
“They’re going to have some sort of memorial service for her at the branch where she worked,” Grace told her. “It’s going to be held on Monday and it will be open to the public.”
“Is there going to be a proper memorial service as well?”
“On Friday,” Grace told her. “I’m planning to go to both. I’m happy to give you a ride to either or both if you’d like to go.”
“I don’t know,” Bessie replied hesitantly. “I didn’t know the woman, after all.”
“You didn’t? I was sure you must have done. She grew up in Laxey, after all.”
“She did?”
“Yes. That time I saw them in ShopFast, I mentioned that I was living up here now and she told me that she’d grown up in Laxey.”
“What was her maiden name? I didn’t see that mentioned in the local paper.”
“I’ve no idea,” Grace replied. “But I can text Hugh and ask him.” She dug her phone out of her bag and did just that while Dan cleared their now empty plates from the table. “Pudding?” he asked.
“I don’t know that I’ll be able to eat much, but I’m willing to try,” Bessie told him.
“Me, too, but I’m sure I’ll want most of it wrapping up to take home,” Grace added.
He was back with their pudding samplers at the same time as Grace’s phone began to make noise. “Enjoy,” he told them both.
“She was Julie Manners,” Grace said before she picked up a spoon and began to eat her ice cream.
“Of course she was,” Bessie exclaimed. “I should have recognised her. She and her family moved to Douglas when she was around sixteen, though. She’d changed a lot since then.”
“So you did know her?”
“Yes, I did. She was, well, she was very pretty and she had a wild streak that meant she was often frustrated with life in Laxey. She used to come to my cottage with some friends once in a while. They’d drink tea and eat biscuits and complain about how they didn’t have anything to do, before dashing off to a movie or into Douglas to do some shopping.”
“Thus disproving their point,” Grace laughed.
“Yes, rather,” Bessie agreed. “She was delighted when her parents decided to move to Douglas. If I remember correctly, she’d been in some trouble at school and her parents decided that it would be best if she moved to a different school.”
“What sort of trouble?”
“I wish I could remember,” Bessie said, frowning. “I seem to recall something about trouble with one of the teachers. If I’m remembering correctly, and I may not be, that may have been the time when one of the male teachers was found to be having inappropriate relationships with several of the female students.”
“How inappropriate?” Grace asked.
Bessie flushed. “As I recall, nothing was ever proven and no charges were ever brought, but the man eventually left the island. I don’t believe he was actually, um, completely intimate with any students, but apparently there was a great deal of private tutoring with kisses being exchanged for better marks.”
“How horrible.”
“I wish I could remember if Julie Manners was caught up in that or not,” Bessie muttered. “She would have been at the high school around the right time.”
“But you said the man moved away,” Grace said. “Why would she have changed schools?”
Bessie grinned. “Now I remember,” she exclaimed. “Julie was one of the girls involved. She didn’t have a problem with the teacher, though; she had a problem with one of the other girls. Apparently, none of the girls involved with the man knew about any of the others. If I’m remembering it all correctly now, one afternoon Julie was having her private tutoring and one of the other girls walked in and caught her in a clinch with the teacher. Instead of getting angry at the man who should have known better, the two girls got into a shouting match with each other. That was the beginning of the end for the teacher, but it also led to Julie and her family moving into Douglas.”
“Wow, that’s a horrible story,” Grace said as she took a bit of cannoli. “And then she ended up married to a teacher. That feels odd to me as well.”
“How long has Mr. Randall been teaching in Douglas?”
Grace flushed. “He’s taught there since he finished teacher training,” she said. “He must have had Julie in his class, mustn’t he?”
“Many years ago, of course,” Bessie said. “I don’t think anyone is suggesting that they were involved when she was still a student.”
“I hope not,” Grace sighed. “I really like Mr. Randall.”
“I wonder if there’s anything in that old story that might give someone a motive for murder,” Bessie said thoughtfully. “I’m sure Dan Ross at the newspaper would love to hear about this. Such things never made the papers in those days, of course.”
“Maybe the teacher has come back to get his revenge on the girls who got him fired,” Grace suggested.
“I suppose that’s one possibility,” Bessie said. “Although I’m not sure why he would have waited this long.”
“Maybe he did the same thing at his next school and ended up in prison where he belonged. Maybe he just got out recently and is now on a killing spree.”
Bessie shuddered. “What a horrible thought.”
“I hope my imagination is just running wild,” Grace said as she took a bite of tiramisu.
“I do as well, but I also think I should talk to Pete or maybe John about this. It might just be relevant to the investigation.”
“Poor Mr. Randall,” Grace said sadly as she finished the last of her biscotti. “He must be terribly upset.”
“The local paper said he was taking an extended leave from teaching,” Bessie told her. “It also listed a handful of people who were friends or colleagues of Julie’s. It implied, but didn’t say outright, that they were the main suspects in the case.”
“Who was on the list?” Grace asked.
“The husband, obviously,” Bessie told her before she checked the list she’d made earlier. “Alan Rossini, who was her supervisor at work, and a couple called Sidney and Stephanie Harris. Apparently he worked with her and the two couples were good friends.”
Grace nodded. “I know Alan slightly. I used to bank at that branch when I lived in Douglas, and obviously, he knows my father. He always made sure I got special treatment when I went in.”
“Any re
ason to think he might have wanted to kill Julie Randall?”
Grace shook her head. “It’s a crazy notion,” she said. “He’s just a quiet and rather dull man who’s worked in banking for his entire life. He must be over sixty by now and nearly ready to retire.”
“What about Mr. and Mrs. Harris?”
“Mr. Harris works in corporate with my father. I’ve met him maybe a dozen times over the years. He’s nice enough, I suppose. He’s probably in his early fifties, I would think. He could do with losing about fifty pounds, but then so could his wife. I’ve met her at various functions and she always seems, I don’t know, frazzled is maybe the word I want? They have a couple of kids and I believe she stays at home with them, although they must be in their teens by now.”
“How was your sweet course?” Dan asked, picking up the empty plates.
Grace glanced at her plate and blushed brightly. “I can’t believe I ate everything,” she said. “I didn’t think I had room for another bite after I’d finished my lunch.”
“It was all wonderful,” Bessie told him.
“That’s good to hear,” Dan smiled. “Would you like me to pack up a few little bits for your husband?” he asked Grace. “Obviously not the gelato, but I seem to have a lot of leftover biscotti and more than a few cannoli left. We’re just about done with the lunch crowd, and I make everything fresh for dinner.”
“I’ll take whatever you don’t want,” Grace said happily. “Hugh will be thrilled. What were we talking about?” she asked Bessie as Dan walked away.
“Sidney and Stephanie Harris,” Bessie reminded her.
Grace shrugged. “I can’t really tell you any more than what I’ve already said. I don’t know them well, but I’m sure they’ll be at the memorial service on Friday. Actually, they’ll probably be at Monday’s gathering as well, or Sidney will. I understand the bank has suggested that everyone from corporate should make an appearance at some point during the afternoon to pay their respects.”
“Here we are, then,” Dan said, putting a large white box on the table in front of Grace. “I hope your husband enjoys them.”
Aunt Bessie Needs (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 14) Page 8