Bessie shook her head. “It wasn’t exactly the brightest of mornings,” she reminded the man, “but I didn’t see anything like that. If there was one around, it would have been ruined in the wind and the rain, surely?”
“Possibly,” Rockwell shrugged.
“Wouldn’t he have kept his phone in his pocket?” Bessie asked.
“It’s not his phone I’m interested in,” Rockwell answered.
Bessie shuddered as she remembered the gruesome appearance that Samantha’s face had taken on when lit only by the flickering bluish light of a mobile phone.
“Who was calling Samantha?” she demanded. “I keep remembering that ringing phone and wondering who was calling her.”
“Donny Pierce,” Hugh answered. “He was trying to reach both Samantha and Vikky to tell them that it was time to head back to the cottage.”
Bessie nodded. “I guess that makes sense,” she said slowly.
“Here’s what doesn’t necessarily make sense,” Rockwell told her. “And I’m telling you this in total confidence. The phone that was with Samantha’s body wasn’t hers. No one seems to know where Samantha’s phone is now.”
“But if it wasn’t her phone, how could Donny call her?” Bessie asked, feeling confused. Then her eyes grew wide. “It was Vikky’s phone?”
Rockwell nodded. “The phone found with the body was Vikky’s. But Vikky claims that she gave it to Daniel on Sunday afternoon. His battery was running low and he needed to run to the store for something. Vikky lent him her phone and she claims she never got it back from him. Presumably it was still in his coat pocket when he went out for his walk on the beach later, but it wasn’t found on or near the body.”
Bessie shook her head. “I’m confused,” she admitted.
“I think we all are,” Hugh told her. “But it does tie the murders together.”
Rockwell frowned. “Anyway, you didn’t see anything on the beach when you found Daniel. I’m assuming you only saw the one phone when you found Samantha?”
Bessie closed her eyes and tried to remember exactly what she had seen. “It was so dark. The only light came from the phone.” She shook her head. “I only saw the one phone,” she said finally.
“As expected,” Rockwell told her.
“Was there anything else?” Bessie asked, hoping the answer would be no.
“I’ve been over your statement several times, comparing it with the one that Donny Pierce gave us,” the Inspector replied.
“I should hope that they agree,” Bessie said sharply.
“For the most part,” the man answered. “He gave us far less detail about your conversation and, when pressed, claims he doesn’t remember exactly what you two talked about.”
Bessie opened her mouth to argue, but Rockwell held up a hand. “I’m happy to believe your account of the conversation,” he told Bessie. “At any rate, you both agree that he mentioned that his brother had a drug problem and that he felt the murder had something to do with a drug deal gone bad. That’s the line of inquiry that Inspector Kelly is pursuing.”
Bessie nodded. “I suppose that was the most important part of the conversation I had with the man,” she said.
“The question becomes, therefore, what did a drug deal gone bad have to do with Samantha Blake?” Rockwell asked.
“I didn’t even remember her last name,” Bessie said sadly. “Did Donny have any suggestions about it?”
“If he did, he didn’t share them with me,” Rockwell answered. “Inspector Kelly is looking into how well Samantha and Daniel knew each other. He’s thinking that she might have been his connection to a supplier or something.” The man shook his head. “I can see why Donny Pierce is such a fan of the theory. Anything that shifts suspicion from his family has to appeal, but I can’t see why Inspector Kelly is so convinced.”
“Kelly sees drugs under every rock on the island,” Hugh told them all. “I heard a rumour that one of his kids got caught with something and now he’s decided that the island is overrun with drugs. He takes every opportunity to pursue every possible lead in any investigation that could possibly have any connections to drugs.”
Rockwell held up a hand. “I shouldn’t have made that last remark. It was unprofessional and out of character,” he told them all. “We shouldn’t speculate about Inspector Kelly or his investigation. Let’s focus on our own investigation instead of worrying about anything else.”
Doona grinned. “Don’t worry, boss, none of us is going to repeat anything said here. We don’t gossip when we shouldn’t.”
The man grinned back at her. “I certainly hope that Aunt Bessie gossips now and again. I’m counting on her to fill me in on what’s really going on around here. I’m just hoping she won’t be talking about me when she’s talking about the murders.”
Bessie was quick to reassure the man. She had no intention of doing or saying anything that might get him into trouble.
“So, what we really need is inside information about the Pierce family,” Rockwell said eventually. “Any idea how we can get it?”
“I know exactly how to get it,” Bessie answered. She told him about Bahey and her years with the Pierce family. “We’re having lunch together tomorrow,” she told him. “I’m sure I’ll know a lot more after that.”
“I don’t think anyone has interviewed the woman,” Rockwell said with a frown. “Perhaps we should have, but she wasn’t in Laxey when the first murder took place. Someone should have talked to her for background information, though.”
“I took her statement this afternoon, after Samantha’s body was discovered,” Hugh told his boss. “She was at the house all day, mostly sitting with Mrs. Pierce. The security folks were able to alibi both Bahey and Mrs. Pierce for the day. There’s no way they had anything to do with Samantha’s death.”
“What about Mr. Pierce?” Doona demanded.
“He left the house around the same time as his son and the two women,” Hugh answered. “He told Bahey he needed some fresh air. He took the keys to one of the family’s cars with him. In his statement originally, he claimed that he was home all day, but when challenged, he admitted to going out for a short time. He claims he went for a drive along the coast road and back. Unfortunately, there are no witnesses.”
“And now we’re teetering on the brink of talking too much about things that should be confidential,” Inspector Rockwell broke in. “I’m sorry to say that this isn’t really a two-way street,” he told Bessie. “I’m hoping you will gather information for me, but I can’t offer you much, if anything, in return.”
“I’m not interested in hearing the latest skeet on the murders,” Bessie replied. “I just want to see the murderer behind bars.”
“Don’t we all?” Doona said emphatically.
“While we’re talking about alibis,” Bessie said slowly. “Does anyone at Thie yn Traie have one for the first murder?”
Inspector Rockwell shook his head. “Tomorrow’s paper will cover the fact that the coroner’s office is having a hard time determining even an approximate time of death,” he told them all. “With the wild weather and the tides coming in and out, all they can offer is a fairly broad window from around nine Sunday evening, which is when the Pierce family agrees that Danny left the house, until three or four the next morning. He was dead at least three to four hours before you found the body. No one at Thie yn Traie is able to provide a watertight alibi for that entire stretch.”
“No pun intended,” Doona suggested.
Rockwell smiled. “Indeed, no pun intended.”
The dinner party broke up soon after that, with everyone agreeing to meet again the following evening to discuss whatever Bessie could learn from Bahey. Inspector Rockwell walked Doona to her car. Hugh was kind enough to help Bessie with the dirty dishes, gobbling up the rest of the cake as his compensation once they’d finished.
“I’ll just say good night, then,” Bessie told the man as she finished tidying up from his second pudding.
> “I hope you’ll sleep well,” Hugh told her, giving her another hug. “Try to think about happy things.”
Bessie nodded and headed for the stairs. She was surprised at how kind and understanding young Hugh was turning out to be. Perhaps Doona was right to think so highly of him.
In bed, she tossed and turned for a while, struggling to find a comfortable position while she listened to Hugh as he got ready for bed. When the last light was finally switched off downstairs, she had nearly given up and climbed back out of bed. Now, unwilling to disturb her guest, Bessie burrowed down under the covers and tried to force herself to sleep. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day and she needed to be well rested if she was going to find out anything useful for the investigation.
For once her sleep was restless and disturbed, and more than once Bessie considered getting up and reading instead of lying in bed feeling wide-awake. Her new books were all in the sitting room, where Hugh was snoring loudly on the couch. She wondered, briefly, how likely he was to actually wake up if she walked down to get one. She had plenty of other books in the office next door to her bedroom, of course, but nothing appealed to her overtired and overwrought brain. She felt like she had been pummelling her pillow all night as she flipped it around and around, trying to make it comfortable enough to tempt her into sleep. Finally, the clock rolled around to six and she felt like she could get out of bed.
Chapter Eight
Thursday morning was clear and noticeably warmer. Bessie smiled, in spite of her tiredness, as she looked out her bedroom window. For the first time in ages, she might actually enjoy her morning walk. After a quick shower, she dressed and headed down for some breakfast. Hugh was still snoring loudly and she wondered just how much noise pollution the young policeman was causing.
After tea and toast she headed out for a short walk before Hugh was even awake. This time she walked towards the police crime scene tape, stopping just short of it. She frowned as she studied the scene in the dimly lit dawn. With the fluctuating tides of the last several days it was impossible to tell exactly where Daniel Pierce’s body had been. Any evidence that had been missed was, no doubt, long gone as well. Bessie breathed in deeply, pulling fresh salty air into her lungs. In spite of everything that had happened this week, she still loved the island.
With Hugh up and fed and off to work, Bessie tidied her cottage and then spent the rest of the morning working on her research paper. She hadn’t done anywhere near as much as she would have liked over the last few days. Bahey was picking her up at half-eleven, so at eleven she shut her computer off and stretched.
“I’m getting old,” she sighed to herself as her an entire range of muscles complained when she got to her feet. In her bedroom she changed into black trousers and a lightweight lilac-coloured sweater. Her hair needed a quick brushing after that and she even took the time to add a touch of colour to her cheeks and lips.
“Not so old that you still don’t look good,” she grinned at herself in the mirror. She gathered up her handbag and checked that her mobile was charged. Until the murderer was safely behind bars, she didn’t want to take any chances.
On the dot of eleven-thirty a fancy black car pulled up outside Bessie’s cottage. As Bessie opened her door, Bahey rolled her window down and shouted to her.
“Hello, Aunt Bessie, hop in.”
Bessie locked up her cottage. When she turned around, the car’s driver had climbed out and he was now holding the car door open for her. She flushed as she slid past him into the car. Such fancy treatment wasn’t what she was used to. There had been a time, many years ago, when taxi drivers sometimes afforded the same courtesy, but the practice seemed to have died out. Some days Bessie felt as if her taxi driver thought he was doing her a favour by simply slowing down when she was ready to get out.
The luxury car slid smoothly along the road as Bahey fussed over her. “Fancy you finding two dead bodies,” she prattled. “I mean, finding Danny must have been awful, but then to go and find Miss Samantha as well? I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”
When she paused for a breath, Bessie just murmured a vague reply. She was happy for Bahey to keep talking, no matter what the subject. Something interesting might just come of it.
“Not that I was a huge fan of Miss Samantha,” Bahey continued. “But she was much better than that Vikky person, anyway. Honestly, those boys were raised well, but neither one of them has any sense at all when it comes to women. Daniel chased after everything in a skirt. I was amazed when he actually got married to one of his ‘girls,’ and Donny, well, don’t even get me started on Donny.”
Bessie grinned to herself. This was going to be an interesting afternoon.
Bahey took a deep breath and then launched herself into a long and rambling story about how she had come to work for the Pierce family in the first place. The story filled the rest of the drive to Foxdale. While it was somewhat interesting, Bessie wasn’t especially interested in hearing it. Over lunch she would have to make sure to get Bahey talking about the murders again. It was probably best to have that conversation somewhere that the Pierces’ driver couldn’t overhear, anyway.
Joney Kelly’s husband had passed away many years earlier and her son had moved off-island. That was the explanation that Bahey gave for the rundown state of the house where she and Bessie were dropped off.
“She just doesn’t have the energy to keep the place up like she should,” Bahey tutted. “And she doesn’t have the money to get a man around to take care of things either. That husband of hers left her just enough to make ends meet, but not a cent more.” Bahey sighed. “And that son of hers doesn’t visit often enough to see what she needs.”
“Maybe you should get her to move to Douglas with you,” Bessie suggested tentatively.
“Ha, that’ll never happen.” The woman who had opened the door to Bahey’s knock glared out at Bessie. “Move to Douglas? Why on earth would I want to do that?”
Bessie smiled at Joney, hoping to disguise her surprise at the other woman’s appearance. Joney had been “the pretty one” in family, but the years had not been kind to her. She now looked substantially older than her younger sister and, Bessie flattered herself, even older than Bessie herself. Of course there were only about seven years between them, but Bessie fancied that she looked much better than the thin and pale woman who stood in the doorway.
“Will you be moving into Douglas some time soon, then?” Joney demanded of Bessie.
Bessie laughed. “Of course not, I’m staying in my home until the last, and I guess you are, too.”
Joney nodded emphatically. “They’re going to have to carry me out of here,” she told her. “This was home from the time I was twenty-five and I don’t intend to be moving out of it now I’m a bit older.”
“A lot older,” Bahey snorted. “And I’m happy for you to stay here. I just wish your William would help you out a bit with the expenses. The house needs a good coat of paint, inside and out; the garden is overgrown and….”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Joney interrupted her sister. “If you’re done complaining about my home, maybe you want to come in and have lunch? If you can stand the idea of spending time in my falling-down wreck, that is.”
Bahey laughed. “I’ll try to stand it for today,” she said in a teasing tone, “but next time lunch is at my place.”
Joney made a face behind her sister’s back as she stepped aside to let the other women into the house. “At your fancy condo-minimum, huh, where everything is all slick and shiny and new? I guess I could just about have lunch there one day.”
Bessie smiled at the pair and their good-natured bickering. She felt a small sadness as she thought about her own sister, whom she had last seen when she was only a teenager. Katherine had stayed in America when Bessie and her parents returned to the island. She had chosen to marry the man she loved and remain with him. She and Bessie exchanged frequent letters over the years until Katherine’s death, but spending time with Bahey and Jo
ney reminded Bessie of what she’d missed by not having her sister around.
She shook her head to clear the thought from her mind. Everyone had to make his or her own choices in life. Katherine had made hers and, by all accounts, she had lived happily with her husband, eventually raising ten children with him. Bessie had taken a different path, and while she sometimes indulged in a bit of “what if” with herself, she never regretted any of her decisions.
“What must you think of us?” Bahey now said to Bessie. “We don’t always argue, just usually.”
Bessie just grinned and then stepped into the house. Bahey was right; it did need a coat of paint. The formal sitting room that the entryway opened into also needed dusting and a good run through with a vacuum cleaner. Bessie wrinkled her nose as she inhaled a good portion of dust with her first breath. The house smelled musty and damp and Bessie wondered how often Joney’s son did visit. Surely, if he had been there recently, he must have noticed that his mother was no longer keeping the house as she should.
“Please pardon the dust,” Joney announced. “I don’t use this room often, so I don’t clean it as much as I should.” She looked around the room, her face surprised as if she, too, were seeing it for the first time. “Well, my goodness, it has managed to get itself into a state, hasn’t it?” she sighed. “I guess I should have taken the time to clean it yesterday.”
“It might have been nice,” Bahey told her. “I assume you managed to clean the kitchen, at least?”
Joney laughed. “The kitchen is as spotless as ever,” she answered. The remark worried Bessie. Just how spotless did the woman usually keep her kitchen, she wondered.
She needn’t have worried, however. While the kitchen wasn’t exactly spotless, it was clean and tidy. Joney ushered the other two women into the spacious kitchen that took up the entire back of the house.
“We remodelled everything about ten years ago, just before my husband passed on,” Joney told Bessie. “This was a small kitchen and a small dining room, so we knocked them together and put the new kitchen in. Then we tacked on the little conservatory.”
Aunt Bessie Assumes: An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Page 12