The front door opened into a small foyer. There was a cloakroom immediately off to the right.
“That’s handy,” Grace said.
A second door past the cloakroom opened into a small space that would make a perfect office. A door on the left of the foyer led to a spacious kitchen.
“It’s lovely,” Bessie said. “And so many cupboards.”
“I would love to cook in this kitchen,” Grace said with a sigh.
Behind the kitchen was a huge sitting room with space for a dining table on one side. Sliding doors led to the beach. Bessie felt her eyes being drawn to the spot on the floor where she knew the body had been found.
“Everything is spotlessly clean,” Hugh said in a loud voice. “It’s all new carpet, and they painted in here as well.”
Grace was standing in the doorway to the kitchen, her face pale. “I know you can’t see anything untoward, but it still feels unsettling,” she said.
“Come in and walk around,” Hugh said. “It doesn’t feel so bad once you’re actually in the room.”
As if to prove his point, Hugh stomped around the entire room. Bessie did her best not to react as he walked over the place where the body had been.
Grace took a few steps into the room and then shook her head. “I don’t know about this,” she said softly.
“Let’s look at the upstairs,” Bessie suggested.
There were three good-sized bedrooms upstairs and a fourth smaller one as well. Both bathrooms had modern fixtures, and the one that was en suite to the largest bedroom had both a large tub and a spacious walk-in shower.
“This is gorgeous,” Grace said as she looked around the huge room. “I can almost forget what happened downstairs when I’m standing in here.”
“It’s really lovely,” Bessie said. “The whole house is wonderful, and it would be perfect for you two. It’s a house you could grow into over time.”
“Yes, we could,” Grace replied in a low voice. “This is the twenty-third house I’ve been to see, and this one is about three times larger than any of the others. And we’d be right on the beach. I’m just not sure about, well, about the house’s history.”
Bessie crossed to the girl. “People die every day,” she said in a gentle voice. “And they die in houses, cars, flats, offices, hospitals, everywhere. I know murder is horrible, but the fact that someone did something awful in this house doesn’t make the house any different. It’s just walls and floors and ceilings. You and Hugh could move in and make it a happy, loving family home if you wanted to.”
“I’m going to have to think about it,” Grace said. She turned and walked out of the room with Hugh on her heels.
Bessie followed more slowly, taking the time to revisit each of the rooms on the first floor. It truly was a beautiful house, and it would be perfect for Hugh and Grace, if Grace could overcome her unease. When she got back downstairs, she found the couple in the kitchen. Grace was staring out through the sitting room at the beach beyond it.
“I would love that view every day,” she told Bessie.
“It’s the same view from the master bedroom,” Bessie reminded her.
“Bessie, can you go and ask Greg to come in?” Hugh asked. “I have a few questions for him.”
Bessie nodded and walked back to the front door. Greg was standing at the end of the house’s driveway, writing on a tablet of paper.
“Ah, Mr. Gibson, if you could come in and answer a few questions, we’d appreciate it,” Bessie called from the doorway.
“Oh, um, come in? I mean, sure, but it’s such a lovely day, wouldn’t you rather chat out here in the sunshine?” the man asked as he took a few steps closer to Bessie.
Bessie stared at him for a minute. “No, we’d rather talk inside so that we can ask some specific questions about the house,” she said after a moment.
“Specific questions? I’m not sure how much help I’ll be with that. Maybe I should contact the builder and have him meet you out here. He’d probably be much better at answering your questions than I would.”
Bessie narrowed her eyes. “Are you afraid to come in the house because of the murdered man?” she demanded.
“Afraid? Me? Oh, no, ha, ha, what a silly idea. Of course I’m not afraid, not at all. I just get a little claustrophobic when I’m indoors, that’s all. It’s easier for me to talk to people outside, especially large groups of people.”
“I hope you aren’t suggesting that Hugh, Grace, and I constitute a large group.”
“That wasn’t what I meant, not at all. But what sort of questions did you have?” the man asked.
“If you expect to sell this house, I suggest you come in and find out,” Bessie snapped. She spun on her heel and strode back into the house, heading straight for the sitting room. Feeling as if everyone was starting to be a little bit silly about the whole thing, she walked back and forth across the sitting room floor.
“You could put a large couch here,” she said to Hugh. “And put the telly on the far wall. You wouldn’t want it on the same wall as the sliding doors, of course, and you wouldn’t want it on the back wall as that would mean having the couch facing away from the view of the sea.”
“I thought maybe we could put the couch here,” Grace said. She took a few tentative steps into the sitting room and then drew a deep breath. “Right about here,” she said, taking several more deliberate steps into the space.
“Maybe a dining table and chairs would work at the other end,” Bessie suggested.
“Yes and maybe some bar stools at this end of the kitchen,” Grace said.
Hugh smiled as Bessie and Grace walked around and around, discussing how to use the space. Greg finally stuck his head into the kitchen about ten minutes later.
“How are we doing?” he asked.
“Do you have a tape measure?” Bessie asked.
“Um, yes,” he replied. He reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved it. “Here you are,” he said, holding it out to Bessie.
“If you could just help Hugh measure that wall there, that would help,” Bessie said brightly.
Greg nodded and then followed Hugh into the sitting room. Bessie could see that the man was uncomfortable, but he did what needed to be done without complaining.
“I think I’ve seen enough for today,” Grace said after a short while. “I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed by it all, really. Hugh and I need to go home and talk it all through.”
Bessie followed the couple back through the house to the front door, with Greg on her heels. She hugged both Hugh and Grace and then shook hands with the estate agent, who was looking happier now that they were all back outside the house.
“Ring me,” he was telling Hugh as Bessie walked away.
Bessie couldn’t help but hope that Grace would eventually agree to buy the house. It was perfect for the couple and Bessie quite liked the idea of having her friends right down the beach from her. Only Grace could decide if she could live with the house’s history, though.
“Aunt Bessie, there you are,” a loud voice interrupted Bessie’s thoughts.
“Elizabeth, I didn’t know you were looking for me.”
The girl laughed. “I saw you walking the other way, so I came down to catch you on your way back. You were ages, though. I was starting to think that you’d sneaked past without me seeing you.”
“I ran into Hugh and Grace and went with them on a house tour,” Bessie told her. “They’re thinking of buying one of those new houses that were just built down from here.”
“They look really cute from the outside,” Elizabeth said. “Small, but cute. They’re awfully close together, though.”
“But what did you want to talk to me about?”
“I just wanted to thank you for talking to Helen. She’s agreed to let me help with her wedding and she’s promised to say nice things about what I do for her, assuming it all goes well.”
“I’m sure it will be wonderful,” Bessie said.
“I certainly ho
pe so. We’ve booked the church and the restaurant for the reception, and now we’re working on flowers. I need to take her dress shopping, as well, but she’s not excited about that.”
“She did tell me that she’d already looked at dresses.”
“Yes, I know,” Elizabeth sighed. “She doesn’t know if she wants something simple or something more elaborate, and apparently Pete just keeps telling her to get whatever she wants.”
“And so she should. She should go and try on as many dresses as it takes to find the one that feels just right, and she shouldn’t care what anyone else thinks about it. If you think it would help, I’ll ring her and tell her that myself.”
“I’m sure it couldn’t hurt. They’re keeping the wedding and reception fairly small. She seems to think that means she has to have a simple dress.”
“I’ll talk to her,” Bessie promised. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
Elizabeth laughed. “I think the dress is the biggest problem right now. She’s not really interested in the flowers or how I decorate the restaurant. She’s leaving all of that to me. I just hope I haven’t forgotten anything.”
“As long as Pete and Helen are both there and there’s a minister to marry them, nothing else really matters.”
“Have you met the new vicar at Laxey Church?” Elizabeth asked.
“Reverend Doyle? Yes, I have.”
“He seemed a little bit odd to me,” Elizabeth said.
“In what way?”
“I almost thought he was, well, flirting with me,” Elizabeth said, blushing. “I mean, he must be fifty years old and he’s a vicar, for goodness sake, but he was very, well, he made me uncomfortable.”
“Oh, dear. That’s a shame. I’ve only spoken to him once or twice and he seemed perfectly fine, but he isn’t likely to be interested in me, is he? There are places where you can report him, if you want to.”
“Oh, goodness, no. It may just have been my imagination. My friends all laugh at me because I seem to think that everyone is flirting with me.” Elizabeth shook her head. “It was probably just me, being silly.”
“Well, if he makes you feel uncomfortable again, please do think about reporting it. He may be doing it to other women as well. That certainly isn’t the way we want our vicar to behave.”
Elizabeth nodded. “I don’t expect to see him again before the wedding,” she said. “And in future, I shall make certain that I’m not alone with him. I’m sure that will take care of the problem.”
The pair chatted for a few more minutes before Bessie continued on her way home. She had been out walking for quite a bit longer than she’d intended. Now she was getting hungry and she felt quite certain that she deserved another fairy cake. She reheated some beef stew from her freezer and ate it with a slice of bread. Unable to chose between two tempting cakes, she ended up eating both of them with a cup of tea and a good book. She read until bedtime, managing to lose herself in the latest book about a San Francisco private detective. When she climbed into bed, however, her mind began to work overtime.
After several minutes of worrying about Grace, her thoughts shifted to Elizabeth. What the girl had told her about the vicar at Laxey Church was worrying. Hoping that Elizabeth had misinterpreted the man’s behaviour, Bessie wondered just how successful the girl would be at putting together Helen’s wedding. There was no doubt she was enthusiastic, but Bessie could only hope that would translate into a nearly perfect day for Helen and Pete. Feeling as if she probably shouldn’t have involved herself in any of it, Bessie fell into a restless sleep. Dreams of brides running up and down the beach with leering vicars behind them kept Bessie from a sound sleep.
Chapter 11
The next morning, Bessie was happy to open her eyes and find that it was six o’clock. Still feeling unsettled and somewhat tired, she showered and then made herself some toast with honey. A light rain was falling as she walked along the beach. The weather kept the beach empty for her, but she was very conscious of several pairs of eyes watching her as she walked past the holiday cottages. She stopped at the stairs to Thie yn Traie and turned for home.
A few small children were chasing one another along the wet sand as she made her way back along the water’s edge. A woman in her forties was standing in front of the open sliding doors in one of the cottages, watching the children. Bessie waved at her.
“Here’s hoping they wear themselves out,” the woman called. “It’s meant to rain all day. Apparently this is as nice as it’s going to get today.”
“Typical Manx summer,” Bessie told her with a grin.
The woman shrugged. “I told my husband we should go to Spain.”
Bessie didn’t argue. If sunny weather was a real priority for the woman, than Spain probably would have been a better idea. When Bessie got back to Treoghe Bwaane, her telephone was ringing. She thought about letting the machine answer, but before she’d made a decision, she’d already picked up the receiver out of habit.
“Hello?”
“Good morning,” Doona said cheerfully. “I’m just ringing to let you know that John is on his way over.”
“Oh, dear, what’s happened?” Bessie demanded.
“Agatha Marsh has passed away, that’s all,” Doona said.
“Was she murdered?”
“There’s no reason to think so.”
“So why is John coming to see me?”
“He just wants to go through everything that you and Agatha talked about when you saw her. I know you already told Hugh about the conversation, but John wants to hear it for himself.”
“I’ll put the kettle on,” Bessie told her.
John was at the door before the kettle had boiled.
“I hope you don’t mind my coming over,” he said when Bessie opened the door.
“You know I always enjoy seeing you,” Bessie replied. “The kettle is just about to boil.”
“Perfect, I could use a cuppa. Pete rang me at home this morning to tell me about Agatha, and I didn’t have time for breakfast.”
“Let me make you some toast, then,” Bessie offered. “I have honey and strawberry jam. If you have time, I could make you something more substantial, even.”
“Toast would be good. I ran out of bread yesterday, which was just as well, as I ran out of jam last week. I’m going to have to go and do a proper shop before the kids get here.”
“And maybe while they’re here, you’ll eat properly yourself,” Bessie muttered as she slid slices of bread into the toaster. She made tea for both of them and then put the jam and honey on the table. The toaster popped a minute later.
“Right, so, what can I do for you this morning?” Bessie asked as she sat down opposite the man after handing him his toast.
“Run me through your entire conversation with Agatha, and also the one you had with Adam, please,” John said. He settled back in his chair and ate his toast while Bessie talked.
“Is there any reason to suspect that Agatha was murdered?” she asked when she’d finished repeating the conversations.
“None at all. According to her doctor, she should have died weeks ago. He gave Pete a long list of things that were wrong with her, but the biggest issue, apparently, was with her heart. He’s happy to sign the death certificate without a post-mortem.”
“I don’t suppose there’s any way you can take a DNA sample from her before she’s buried?” Bessie asked.
“Not without the family’s permission. I have a feeling they might not like the idea.”
“Yes, from what Adam said, they definitely won’t like the idea.”
“Some people aren’t comfortable with the process,” John said. “I understand that, even if it is frustrating. In this case, I think it would be helpful to be able to eliminate Christopher from consideration, but we can’t force anyone to submit to testing, not in a case like this.”
“And Hugh hasn’t had any luck in finding Christopher?”
“He’s not having much luck finding anyo
ne,” John sighed. “He’s only working on the case for a few hours each week, but that’s probably plenty at the moment as he has requests for information submitted all over the world. Now it’s mostly a waiting game, hoping people will get back to him before too long.”
“How frustrating.”
“Luckily, he has plenty of other things on keep him busy,” John smiled. “And he’s less eager to put in long hours now that Grace is waiting at home for him every night.”
“I went around the house down the beach from here with him and Grace yesterday. I think it would be perfect for them, but Grace is a bit apprehensive.”
“I’m not sure I’d have ever been able to persuade Sue to move into a house where someone had been murdered. She didn’t even like to talk about my work. I can understand how Grace feels, as well.”
“But it’s a beautiful house and it’s much larger than anything they can afford elsewhere.”
“I’m sure it’s a great deal, if Grace can learn to live with the history.”
“Is there anything else I can do to help Hugh with the case?” Bessie asked after John had thanked her profusely for the tea and toast.
“He’s still trying to find Craig, but isn’t have much luck. I don’t suppose you know if the man had any relatives on the island? Even distant ones might be a help.”
“I’ll have a think,” Bessie told him. “His parents both died when he was in his twenties. Unfortunately, they were both only children, but if I go back enough generations, I might be able to find a distant cousin, at least.”
“Anything would be a help. Ring Hugh if you think of anyone.”
Bessie let the man out and then sat back down at the kitchen table. As she sipped her tea, her brain tried to process Agatha’s sudden death. It wasn’t truly sudden, of course, but it felt that way to Bessie. Having only just seen the woman, it also felt a little unreal. Bessie could only hope that one of Agatha’s children would go through the woman’s address book and find Christopher. Surely he would want to come to his mother’s funeral, even if he was still at odds with his brother.
Bessie rang a few friends to ask them about Craig’s family. No one could recall any more than she could, which added up to nothing at all. Everyone had an opinion on Agatha’s death, as well.
Aunt Bessie Provides (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 16) Page 16