Aunt Bessie Provides (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 16)

by Diana Xarissa

  When he was finished with his course, he’d be able to open his own restaurant or start his own catering company with his money. Bessie knew he had enough in the bank that he wouldn’t actually have to work at all, but she didn’t see that happening. The man loved cooking and baking and he was very good at it, as well.

  The pair chatted about nothing and everything as Andy drove them into Douglas. The hospital had a tiny car park that was nearly always full, but today Andy was able to find a space.

  “I didn’t realise it would be this quiet at the weekend,” Andy remarked as he pulled a large box out of his car’s boot.

  “No, I didn’t either. I don’t come down here very often, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen the car park this empty.”

  The small café was right inside the hospital’s front door. Bessie and Andy chose a table near the door and then settled in to wait for Helen and Pete. They arrived only a few moments later. Bessie performed the necessary introductions.

  “Now, nothing has had time to mature properly, but these samples will give an idea of the lightness or darkness of the different batters and also ideas on how much or how little fruit you prefer,” Andy said as he opened his box. “There are seven different cakes for you to try and I’ve arranged them from lightest to darkest.”

  Andy cut small bites from the long slices of each cake, passing a bite to each of them. Helen and Pete exchanged glances as they tried the first cake.

  “This is delicious, but it isn’t quite traditional enough for my taste,” Pete told Andy.

  “I love it, but if Pete wants it darker, that’s fine with me,” Helen said.

  Bessie didn’t say anything; she just savoured the delicious bite.

  Half an hour later, Pete and Helen had agreed that the cake exactly in the middle of Andy’s samples was just right.

  “Now we need to discuss decorations,” Andy said as he closed the now empty box.

  “Maybe we could do that another time,” Helen said. “I really need to get back to my station.”

  “You can talk to me about them,” Pete suggested. “Not that I have any idea what we’ll be talking about.”

  Andy grinned. “Let’s talk, then,” he said. He and Pete sat down together at one of the tables. Helen looked at them and then gave Bessie a nervous smile.

  “Pete won’t agree to anything without my okay,” she said, sounding uncertain.

  “I’m sure he won’t,” Bessie said soothingly. “Now, let me walk you back to your station. I wanted to ask you about a patient, actually.”

  “You did say you were looking for an excuse to be here today,” Helen recalled. “Who did you want to see?”

  “Agatha Marsh. She and I were friends many years ago, but I haven’t seen her in probably a decade or more.”

  “She’s on my ward,” Helen said. “But she’ll be moving soon. She needs more one-to-one care.”

  “I’d heard that she wasn’t doing very well.”

  “She has good days and bad days.”

  “Don’t we all,” Bessie sighed.

  Helen stopped at the nurse’s station and spoke to the women who were working there. After a few minutes she waved Bessie over.

  “Agatha is having a pretty good day today,” Helen told her. “She’s not my patient today, but I’ll walk you over to see her, anyway. Her family prefers that someone stays with her when she has visitors. She can get quite frustrated when she had problems with her memory. My job is to intervene if she starts to get upset.”

  “I don’t want to upset her,” Bessie said. “I just want to get an address for Christopher from her.”

  “Yes, well, let’s see what she has to say,” Helen suggested.

  They made their way down the corridor. Agatha’s room was near the end of the hall.

  “She has a private room?” Bessie asked.

  “Yes, her son pays for her to have her own room. She was living in a care home, but her medical issues got to be too much for them to deal with. As I said, she’ll be moving to the critical care unit soon. Her health is failing quite rapidly, I’m afraid.”

  Bessie nodded and then took a deep breath. She hated seeing her old friends in ill health. Helen pushed the door open and then led Bessie inside.

  “Agatha? You have a visitor,” she said in a low voice.

  The woman on the bed looked incredibly old to Bessie. Her skin was pale and she looked fragile. She was thinner than Bessie had ever seen her as her bright blue eyes gazed out from her wrinkled face.

  “Elizabeth Cubbon? I don’t think I was expecting you, was I?” she said in a quavering voice.

  “No, not at all,” Bessie replied. “I was at Noble’s, meeting with Helen, and she mentioned that you were on the ward here. I thought I would come by and say hello, that’s all.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “Why not? I have fond memories of you and Aaron at the market in Laxey. And, of course, of your children, helping out and getting underfoot,” Bessie said.

  “That was a very long time ago,” Agatha said. “We haven’t seen one another in twenty years or more. Why are you really here?”

  Bessie glanced at Helen, but Helen was looking through the woman’s chart. “I don’t know if you saw the local paper yesterday?”

  “I don’t bother with it anymore. I’ve not long left. I find I’ve lost interest in all of that gossip and nonsense.”

  “Hugh Watterson is trying to identify a body that washed up in Laxey about twenty years ago. Someone suggested that your son, Christopher, disappeared around that time. I was just wondering if you could tell me where Christopher is now so that we can get in touch with him,” Bessie told her, wondering if she should have made up a story that might have been less likely to upset the woman.

  “Why do people feel the need to interfere in other people’s lives?” Agatha asked her. “People die. It’s sad, but it happens. If no one has identified the body after twenty years, what difference does it make who he was?”

  “Surely his family and friends want to know what happened to him,” Bessie suggested.

  “If they were that concerned about him, they should have reported him missing and then identified the body,” Agatha replied. “Perhaps he had neither friends nor family.”

  “Perhaps,” Bessie sighed. “If you could provide me with Christopher’s address, it will help Hugh, though.”

  The woman looked at Bessie for a minute and then shook her head. “I know where Christopher is and I really don’t see why it’s any of your business.”

  “I can have Hugh come and ask you himself,” Bessie suggested.

  “I don’t want to talk to the police. Christopher’s whereabouts aren’t any of their business, either.”

  Bessie thought about arguing, but there seemed little point. Perhaps Hugh or John could make an official request to the woman or to one of her children, but there was little else that Bessie could do.

  “How much do you remember about Craig Fox?” she asked, changing the subject.

  Agatha blinked in surprise. “Craig Fox? That stupid little man who married the trollop with the badly behaved children? Why are you asking about him?”

  “Several people seem to think that the body might be his.”

  “Oh, goodness, I doubt it. Who would have wanted to murder him? He was one of the least interesting individuals I ever met.”

  “I believe people think that Miranda and her husband killed him, perhaps for money.”

  “Bah, he didn’t have enough money to be worth murdering. He simply moved across to start over after his humiliation here. No doubt he found himself another cheap whore who was happy to take advantage of his stupidity.”

  Helen gave Bessie an incredulous look. Bessie could only guess that Helen wasn’t used to seeing this side of Agatha. It was something of a shock to Bessie as well. The Agatha she remembered had always been polite and had never gossiped. When you had a small business on the island, it was important to get along with everyone. Clearly the
woman was no longer worried about being nice.

  “Do you also remember Harry Jensen?” Bessie asked.

  “I remember him and Barbara,” was the reply. “She was a tiresome woman. Oh, so very devoted to Harry. She should have had more children. Once you’ve had two or three, you get a bit of perspective on the whole matter. Harry was the centre of her world and that wasn’t good for either of them.”

  “She did move back to the UK without him,” Bessie pointed out.

  “Yes, but he couldn’t survive without her. He was off after her within a few months.”

  “Do you remember where they went?”

  “I didn’t pay any attention at the time and I couldn’t care less now,” Agatha replied. “I suppose the body could be Harry’s, though. Or it could be some random man who fell off a fishing boat in Heysham. The whole matter is incredibly uninteresting.”

  “So you can’t suggest anyone else it might be?”

  “I could give you a list, but I can’t be bothered,” Agatha replied. “I’m sure you’ve a whole network of little old dears who are more than happy to spend their days wittering on and on about the past. Go and bother them and leave me alone.”

  “I’m sorry if I’ve bothered you,” Bessie said. “I was only trying to help Hugh eliminate at least one name from his list. He’ll have to hunt for Christopher without your help, then.”

  “He’s wasting his time looking for Christopher. As I said, I know where he is. That should be enough for Hugh Watterson.”

  Bessie swallowed a dozen retorts. “It was nice to see you again, anyway,” she said politely, if not entirely truthfully.

  “I’m sure,” Agatha said, rolling her eyes.

  Bessie turned and walked out of the room. She waited in the corridor for Helen to join her.

  “Her family is worried about people upsetting her?” she asked when the woman emerged from the room a moment later. “She seemed too cold for that to be a concern.”

  Helen shrugged. “There’s Adam now,” she said, looking down the corridor. “Maybe you should ask him about his brother.”

  Chapter 9

  Bessie followed Helen back towards the desk, studying the man who was leaning against it as they went. Adam Marsh had to be in his mid-fifties, but he wore it well. His hair was still dark, with just a bit of grey running through it. He was dressed casually and Bessie would have guessed that he had a gym membership that he actually used. She smiled brightly at the man as she reached his side.

  “Mr. Marsh, I don’t know if you remember me. I’m Elizabeth Cubbon. I was just visiting your mother.”

  “But you must call me Adam,” the man replied with a smile. “And of course I remember you, Miss Cubbon. I was always quite jealous of the children who lived in Laxey. They used to talk about your little cottage by the sea where delicious cakes and biscuits were always available. We didn’t have anything like that in Douglas, sadly.”

  “Call me Bessie. Everyone does.”

  “But why were you visiting Mother?”

  “I was at Noble’s for something else and I thought I would say hello. I was hoping she might be willing to give me Christopher’s address. Hugh Watterson is looking for him in connection with the body on the beach case that he’s reopened,” Bessie explained.

  “He can’t possibly believe that that body is Christopher’s?” Adam said in a shocked voice.

  “Someone suggested that it might be,” Bessie told him.

  “But that’s a crazy idea. First of all, Christopher is absolutely fine. He simply decided to move across, that’s all. Secondly, surely, if it were him, Mother would have identified him at the time. It makes no sense even suggesting that it might be his body.”

  “Hugh has to investigate all of the possibilities,” Bessie replied. “And as I said, someone suggested that he look for Christopher.”

  Adam sighed. “And that might prove difficult.”

  “It won’t be difficult if your mother will give Hugh his address,” Bessie suggested.

  “It isn’t that easy. Christopher has never been one to settle down. He moved on and off the island every few years, as I’m sure you recall.”

  “I remember him leaving and then coming back, yes.”

  “He’d gone to London and then decided it didn’t suit him. Then he came back here and that didn’t suit him either.” Adam shook his head. “I’m sorry to say this, but he and I had a bit of a falling-out. I thought he should stay here and take over some part of the family business. By that time we’d moved beyond the market stalls and had a proper import and export business going. We could have used the extra help.”

  “But he didn’t want to stay?”

  “Christopher never appreciated the island,” Adam sighed. “He wanted far more adventure and excitement than the good old Isle of Man could provide. Anyway, we had a huge fight and he stormed out and caught the next flight or ferry back across. I’m afraid I haven’t stayed in touch with him.”

  “So you don’t have an address for him,” Bessie concluded.

  “Mother doesn’t talk about him often, but over the years she’s mentioned him moving around quite a bit. I understand he spent at least a few years in Australia and I believe she mentioned Canada at least once as well.”

  “Hugh’s very good at his job. I’m sure he’ll be able to find Christopher if anyone can.”

  “And if he can’t locate him?”

  “Maybe he’ll want to run DNA tests on the body and yourself,” Bessie suggested.

  Adam shook his head. “I’m not submitting any DNA to the police. I’ve heard too many horror stories about what they do with it once they have it. And I’ll suggest that my siblings refuse as well. As I’m confident that the body isn’t Christopher’s, I won’t feel bad about refusing, either.”

  Bessie didn’t bother to argue. If Hugh couldn’t track Christopher down, maybe he could persuade Brian or Dorothy to cooperate with him, even if Adam would not. “Do you know if your siblings have kept in touch with Christopher?” she asked.

  “I’ve never discussed it with them, but I doubt it. We were all equally unhappy with his decision to leave as we all had an equal share in the family business. I was the one who had the screaming row with him, but I can’t imagine either of them were any less angry.”

  “Where does Christopher’s share of the profits from the business go?” Bessie asked, flushing as she realised it was a somewhat rude question.

  “The business doesn’t work that way,” Adam replied. “We all work for the business and get paid a salary based on our jobs and on the company profits. As Christopher doesn’t work for the company, he isn’t entitled to a share in the profits.”

  Bessie nodded. “That’s good for you, of course, but it might have been a way to track the man down.”

  Adam shrugged. “I wish I could help you more, but I really don’t care if he’s found or not. He chose to leave the island and cut his ties with his family. Even if he is found, I don’t want his address or anything.”

  “But you do think that your mother has stayed in touch with him?”

  “Of course she has. She didn’t like his decision any more than I did, but she’s still his mother and she still loves him. I don’t know if she has a current address for him, because he does move around a lot, but I’m sure she hears from him a few times each year.”

  “Now that she’s in here, are you collecting her post for her?” Bessie asked.

  “I am, but I have no intention of snooping through it for you,” the man replied sharply.

  “I wasn’t going to ask you to snoop. I just wondered if you’d seen any letters that might have been from Christopher in her post. Just knowing where they were postmarked would be a help.”

  “I don’t go through her post, I simply collect it once or twice a week and bring it to her here. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go and visit her.”

  “I’m sorry for keeping you,” Bessie said quickly. “And thank you for everything you
were able to tell me.”

  The man nodded and then walked briskly away. Bessie watched as he disappeared into his mother’s room. She’d have to ring Hugh and tell him everything that she’d learned. After talking to both Agatha and Adam, she certainly wasn’t convinced that Christopher was alive and well, though.

  “Thank you for letting me visit Agatha,” Bessie told Helen.

  “You’re welcome to visit anyone on the ward,” Helen replied. “We don’t have any restrictions and most of our patients welcome visitors, whether they know them or not.”

  Bessie laughed. “I think I’d better get back downstairs. I’m sure Andy is ready to get home.”

  “I’m afraid to think what he and Pete have dreamt up. Remind Andy that I get final approval on the cake, please.”

  “I will do, but you don’t have to worry. Andy will do a wonderful job for you.”

  “I’m sure he will. His samples were incredible. I forgot to ask him about prices, but I’m sure Pete won’t make the same mistake.”

  Bessie gave Helen a hug and then headed for the lift. Andy was waiting for her in the small lobby area at the front of the building.

  “I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting,” Bessie told him when she reached his side.

  “Not at all. I’ve been working on sketches for the cake,” Andy replied. “What do you think?” He held up a piece of scrap paper on which he’d drawn a complicated and sophisticated wedding cake design.

  “It’s stunning. It looks as if it will take hours and hours of hard work.”

  “Oh, it will,” the man replied with a huge smile. “I can’t wait to get started. I never really thought about doing wedding cakes, but I had such fun last year at school designing Christmas cakes. This is just an bigger, better version of that, without Father Christmas.”

  Bessie laughed. “I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”