“I hope these bruises start healing fast,” she told Doona, as she gingerly fashioned the seatbelt around herself. “I’m already tired of being in pain all the time.”
“Maybe you should take another tablet?” Doona suggested.
“You know me better than that,” Bessie replied.
The drive back to Bessie’s didn’t take long, but Bessie still nodded off for a moment. She awoke with a start when the car stopped.
“Oh, goodness,” she exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“Your body needs the rest,” Doona told her.
“I’m getting tired of hearing that,” Bessie snapped back. Then she sighed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“It’s fine,” Doona told her. “I’ll just ignore you.”
Bessie had to laugh at that. She unhooked her seatbelt and carefully exited the car.
“You know,” Doona told her as she made her way towards the door, “you can always come and stay with me for a few days, if you want.”
“I would rather be in my own home,” Bessie answered. “I’m just hoping that Hugh will stay for another night or two. The doctor said I’m not to be alone.”
“If Hugh won’t, I will,” Doona assured her.
Once inside, Bessie was eager to change. She was wearing the clothes that she had lent to Vikky. In their plastic bag, they had survived the fall much more successfully than the outfit that Bessie had been wearing. Now she wanted out of the skirt and sweater that were too warm for today’s nice weather. The outfit held uncomfortable memories for Bessie, as well.
She made her way carefully up the stairs and changed into a little-worn pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. She put the outfit she now thought of as “Vikky’s” into her laundry pile. Perhaps once they were washed in her own machine with her usual detergent they would feel less foreign. Really though, she doubted if she would ever wear them again.
The trip back down the stairs took almost as long as the climb had taken, but the stairs were too narrow for Doona to walk alongside her to help. Doona was ready at the bottom, however, to help her into the sitting room.
“Now you just sit down and rest yourself for a bit,” Doona insisted as she helped Bessie into a chair. She fetched Bessie’s latest novel and a blanket, “just in case you get a chill,” and then left Bessie on her own. Bessie could hear Doona moving around in the kitchen as she drifted off to sleep yet again.
Chapter Thirteen
When Bessie woke up a few hours later, it was to an unexpected smell. She sniffed the air and frowned, taking a moment to place the aroma.
“Is someone eating pizza?” she demanded loudly, as her brain finally cooperated.
Doona stuck her head into the sitting room and smiled. “Aye, and there’s plenty for you, too.”
Bessie smiled. It had been some time since she’d had good pizza. She got shakily to her feet. Doona was quick to step to her side and offer some support. As Bessie walked the handful of steps to her kitchen, she realised that she was overdue for another pain tablet, and she was more than ready to take it.
She was surprised to find Hugh and Inspector Rockwell in the kitchen. “You’ve all been very quiet,” she said as a greeting.
“We didn’t want to wake you,” Hugh told her, rising to his feet and giving her a gentle hug.
“Well, I’m glad I’m awake now. That pizza smells fabulous.”
“Doona had me bring it when I brought your prescriptions,” Hugh explained.
“Which reminds me,” Doona interjected. “I think you’re overdue for a tablet.”
Bessie nodded. “And I won’t complain about having to take it, either,” she told Doona. “Everything hurts.”
Doona nodded and got Bessie a glass of water and the required medication. “This is the light one,” she told Bessie. “I assume you’d rather save the more powerful ones for bedtime.”
Bessie hesitated for a moment. She was in a lot of pain. But she also wanted to chat with Hugh and Inspector Rockwell and she knew that if she took the stronger drugs she wouldn’t be able to stay awake to do that. She took the tablet that Doona offered. Hopefully, it would be enough to get her through until bedtime.
“We were just talking about the case,” Hugh told Bessie.
“We’ve all got our own pet theories as to what happened,” Doona added.
“But we don’t have enough evidence to prove any of them,” Inspector Rockwell said gloomily.
Bessie finished her slice of pizza and grabbed a second before she spoke. “I’m assuming the murderer is someone from the family,” she said once she’d taken yet another bite. “No one else could have pushed me off those steps.”
“You can’t rule out the staff,” Hugh argued. “Everyone from Bahey Corlett through Robert Clague had the same opportunity as the family to give you that shove.”
Bessie shrugged. “But none of them had any reason to try to kill me.”
“Why did anyone have a reason to try to kill you?” Rockwell asked. “That’s what I can’t seem to make sense of in all of this.”
Bessie shook her head. “Maybe we should start back at the beginning,” she suggested. “Look at motive and means and opportunity for the first murder and then work forward.”
“We were going to do that once we finished the pizza,” Doona told her. “Well, after the ice cream.”
Bessie grinned. “There’s ice cream?” she asked, feeling like a ten-year-old child again.
Doona was just digging out giant scoops of the promised pudding when Inspector Rockwell’s phone rang. He glanced at the display and then sighed.
“I need to take this,” he told the others.
He stepped into Bessie’s sitting room to get some privacy and the others dug into their ice cream as snippets of conversation drifted past.
“You know I’m working….”
“That isn’t what I meant….”
“I’m in the middle of a murder investigation, remember?”
“I don’t care what your mother….”
The others ate their ice cream in silence, exchanging glances as the words streamed by. After a few minutes, they heard nothing but silence before Inspector Rockwell stormed back into the room.
“I need to leave,” he said tersely, his face flushed. “Hugh, I expect a full report from you Monday morning, covering everything that’s discussed after I’m gone.”
“Yes, sir,” Hugh said smartly.
“And remember what should and shouldn’t be discussed with a civilian,” he added, shooting Bessie a look she couldn’t read.
“Ah, yes, sir,” Hugh repeated himself.
Rockwell shook his head. “Sorry, I’m not, that is….” He shook his head again and then grabbed a spoon. He dug it into the tub of ice cream that was still sitting on the counter and scooped out a generous mouthful. Bessie watched him curiously as his agitation seemed to dissipate as the ice cream melted in his mouth.
“Ah, that’s better,” he sighed. “I’ll see you all on Monday. I hope you feel better by then.” The last remark was directed at Bessie and she smiled in lieu of a reply. The reply would have been wasted anyway, as the inspector had quickly let himself out and within seconds they could all hear his car engine starting.
“Well, that was weird,” Doona complained as she got up to put the ice cream away.
“That had to be his wife,” Hugh told her. “From what I’ve heard, she’s finding it hard to adjust to life over here. I guess this murder investigation is pushing her over the edge.”
Bessie resisted the urge to comment. She was just starting to like the inspector. She hoped his wife wouldn’t drag him back to Manchester.
“Before we do anything else, what happened at the news conference yesterday?” Bessie asked.
“Not a whole lot,” Doona shrugged. “Inspector Kelly announced that he’d arrested Jack White for dealing in illegal drugs, or rather for providing legal drugs without a prescription, and that was about it.”<
br />
“He didn’t say anything about the murders?” Bessie asked in surprise.
“Nope. The press tried to get him to answer questions, but he kept dodging everything and talking about not being able to discuss active investigations. I overheard a few reporters complaining that they’d wasted their time in even bothering to attend,” Hugh told her.
“So let’s talk about means, motive and opportunity,” Doona suggested after the ice cream bowls were empty.
Hugh started. “The problem is everyone in that family had the means and opportunity, but to hear them tell it, none of them had any motive, at least not for both murders.”
“So let’s assume, just for a minute, that Samantha was killed only because she knew who killed Danny,” Bessie suggested. “That means that we only have to consider who might have had a motive for killing him.”
“That’s easy,” Doona answered. “Vikky!”
Hugh shook his head. “I know you’d like to get her put away for a long time,” he told Doona, “but from everything we’ve discovered, she didn’t have much motive for killing her brand-new husband.”
“Except lots and lots and lots of lovely money,” Doona argued.
“Not really that much,” Hugh replied. “A lot of the family money is tied up in complicated trusts and stuff. I don’t understand any of it, but even if Vikky inherits everything that she’s meant to according to Danny’s will, she won’t get anything like what the family is worth. And according to my sources, Mr. Pierce is fighting the will anyway. It’s likely she won’t get much of anything.”
“Maybe she didn’t know about the family trusts and stuff,” Doona suggested. “Maybe she thought she was going to get tons.”
“She certainly didn’t mention any family trusts when I talked to her after I found the body,” Bessie interjected. “She said she was Danny’s heir and she seemed to think she was going to be very rich indeed.”
“I still find it hard to believe that she could kill her husband only two days after their wedding,” Hugh asserted.
“And I still think she's the best suspect,” Doona replied.
“What about Mr. or Mrs. Pierce?” Bessie asked.
“I can't see Mrs. Pierce killing her own son,” Doona said. “I saw her at the station the afternoon after the body was found. She seemed like she was genuinely devastated.”
“I'd be inclined to agree with that,” Bessie said. “I saw her at the house the next day and she was still barely functioning.”
“She might have killed Samantha, though,” Doona suggested.
“Let's focus on Danny's murder for now,” Bessie said. “I think we can agree that Mrs. Pierce didn't kill him. What about Mr. Pierce?”
“It's hard for me to imagine any parent killing their child,” Doona said with a sigh.
“I know,” Bessie told her, “but I can picture him doing it far more easily than I can see his wife being involved.”
“I sat in when Inspector Rockwell was interviewing him,” Hugh told them. “I can't tell you anything that was said, but I can tell you the impression I got of the man. He's a hardheaded businessman who got where he is today by stepping on whomever he needed to on his way up. While I can't see him getting his own hands dirty, I can see him ordering someone else to get rid of anyone he thought was in his way.”
“Even his own son?” Doona asked incredulously.
Hugh hesitated. “Maybe,” he finally answered, uncertainly. “It would depend, I guess, on what his son did that upset him.”
“It isn't like there are killers for hire roaming around the island, though,” Bessie argued. “Where would he find someone to do the job?”
“It would be easy enough for someone to come across, do the job and be on the next plane out,” Hugh told her. “And he might have deliberately planned it for here, assuming his position would impress a small island force more than a big city one.”
“If Mr. Pierce hired someone to kill his son, then who killed Samantha?” Doona asked.
“A different goon?” Hugh speculated. “As soon as Danny was killed, Mr. Pierce hired security round the clock. Who's to say what else the security firm might handle?”
“Hugh Watterson, you are not seriously suggesting that Robert Clague and his associates at Manxman Security are assassins for hire,” Bessie exploded.
Hugh frowned. “You were the one that kept pointing out how Robert always seemed to be sneaking up on you,” Hugh reminded her. “And we know he had plenty of opportunity to push you down the stairs.”
Bessie shook her head. “That's crazy,” she told him. “Robert Clague ate shortbread at this very table. He would never try to kill me.”
Hugh shrugged. “I'm sure old man Pierce has plenty of underground connections. It would have been easy for him to get someone over here to get rid of Samantha if he wanted to. Both murders took place in public spaces where strangers might not have been noticed.”
Bessie wasn't sure she agreed, but she moved on. “What about Donny?” she asked.
Hugh shrugged. As far as we can tell, he didn't have any real motive. Everyone I've talked to has told me that the brothers were close and got along well. I haven’t found anyone that overheard any arguments between the two. Donny claims that he was upset with his brother over his drug use, but no one else seems to have noticed the tension. And all the money is tied up in those trusts, so Donny won’t gain anything financially from Danny’s death.”
“Maybe they were fighting over Vikky,” Doona suggested.
Hugh shrugged again. “The way I was told, Donny introduced the two of them. Surely if he was interested in her, he would have just asked her out himself, rather than set her up with Danny.”
“But he had the means and the opportunity,” Bessie said. “And he might have had a motive for killing Samantha.”
“What motive?” Hugh asked. “If they'd had a fight, he could have just broken up with her. He didn't have to kill her.”
Bessie sighed. “Maybe my first assumption was correct, then,” she said. “Maybe Samantha saw Danny's killer and that’s what got her killed.”
“Or Samantha killed Danny and someone killed her for revenge,” Doona suggested.
“Well, she did have means and opportunity,” Hugh told them. “Just like everyone else.”
“But what could have been her motive?” Bessie demanded.
“If she didn’t know about the trusts either, maybe she thought she’d get Donny a fortune if she killed Danny,” Doona speculated.
“Sees a bit extreme, killing someone to help out your boyfriend,” Bessie said thoughtfully. “Samantha didn’t seem stupid to me. If she was going to kill Danny for Donny’s benefit, I think she’d have made sure she married Donny first.”
“Just for the record,” Hugh inserted, “Samantha had the best alibi for Danny’s murder. She wasn’t feeling well at dinner and went straight to bed afterwards. Danny went out for his walk about an hour later and by that time Samantha had already asked one of the maids to bring her some headache tablets due to a severe migraine. Assuming she took the tablets they gave her, it’s a fair bet she was fast asleep all night. While it’s just possible that she was faking it and managed to sneak out, murder Danny and then sneak back in, it seems pretty unlikely.”
“What if,” Doona said excitedly, “Samantha was the real target and Danny's killing was just meant to distract us?”
“That seems a little farfetched,” Bessie answered.
“But it's possible,” Doona insisted.
Hugh shook his head, but Bessie spoke first. “Ok, if we assume that Samantha was the real target, who had a motive?”
The three looked from one to another.
“From what we've uncovered in the investigation to date,” Hugh said finally, “I don't think anyone had much of a motive.”
“Vikky did,” Doona asserted. “She was after Donny and Samantha was in the way.”
“Maybe,” Hugh said, doubt obvious in his tone. “But only after D
anny was dead.”
“I'm getting awfully tired,” Bessie told the others. “Before I fall asleep in my chair, what has Jack White been saying?”
“As I understand it,” Hugh answered, “he's been saying plenty, but only to Inspector Kelly and the Chief Constable and they surely aren't talking.”
Bessie sighed. “Inspector Rockwell probably knows what he's said, as well. It’s too bad he had to leave.”
“He wouldn't have told us anyway,” Doona said. “Remember what he said about talking to civilians.”
Bessie sighed again. “I still wish I knew what our friendly neighbourhood chemist had to say.”
“Let's think about the attack on you,” Doona suggested.
“Must we?” Bessie asked.
“Yes,” Doona said firmly. “Clearly everyone had the means to carry that out. We don't have any one-armed suspects. As I understand it, none of the usual suspects has anything like an alibi, either.” She looked questioningly at Hugh.
Hugh shrugged. “Everyone claims they were doing this or that, but any one of them could have slipped out, given you a shove and got back inside without anyone else noticing.”
“What about Mr. Pierce?” Bessie asked. “He was out taking a drive while I was there.”
“Actually, he arrived back home just before Vikky's shouting match with the reporters at the gate. His arrival was what had them out of their car in the first place. You heard Robert getting called to deal with the matter, so we know that Mr. Pierce was home before you fell.”
“But surely that means that Robert couldn't have done it, if he was dealing with Vikky. And it must let Vikky off the hook as well?” Bessie asked.
“Inspector Rockwell drew up a comprehensive timeline of events for the afternoon. According to that, no one is in the clear,” Hugh told her.
“But,” Bessie began, but Hugh held up a hand.
“Robert's phone shows that he was called at fifteen-twenty-seven, but he didn't show up on the security camera at the gate until fifteen-thirty-five. He can't seem to account for the discrepancy. As for Miss Vikky, as soon as Robert showed up, she ran off sobbing. She would have had just about enough time to get around the back and give you a push. Unfortunately, I can’t be exact enough about the time you fell to narrow the suspects down any further.”
Aunt Bessie Assumes: An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Page 19