“No, I suppose it shouldn’t be,” Bessie agreed, “but you’re meant to be on holiday. You shouldn’t have to clean someone else’s house. I’m sure your father would much rather you cleaned his.”
Amy laughed. “Dad must have spent ages cleaning before we got here. His house is almost too clean. It doesn’t really feel lived in, though. I’m sure he works too hard.”
“You’re right about that,” Bessie told her.
“I don’t want to wait,” a loud voice said in the doorway.
Bessie was sure she recognized the voice. She looked up and then touched Grace’s arm. “Brandon and Dawn,” she mouthed to her friend.
“I’m told the food is very good here,” Dawn replied to her brother. “Anyway, it will take ages to find somewhere else to go. Let’s just wait.”
“I’m sure there are restaurants all along the promenade,” Brandon said. “Come on.”
“Let me see how long the wait is,” Dawn said in a placating tone. “Just give me a minute.”
“Table for five, remember,” Brandon called after her as Dawn headed for the hostess station. When she turned back around, she glanced around the room and then headed towards Bessie.
“Miss Cubbon, this is a surprise,” she said, quickly dropping onto the couch next to Bessie. “There’s a fifteen-minute wait for a table, and if I tell Brandon that, he’ll make us go elsewhere. Can I just sit here with you for a few minutes?” she asked in a whisper.
“Of course you can,” Bessie said. “The food here is well worth the wait.”
“That’s what I’ve heard. I love Italian food, but Brandon isn’t as fond of it. Dad and Mike and Horace are meeting us here, though. If we go somewhere else, they’ll never find us,” Dawn told her.
Bessie introduced the woman to Grace and the children, taking care not to mention the children’s surname. It seemed unlikely that Dawn would make the connection between them and the inspector who had questioned her about her late husband’s murder, but Bessie didn’t want to take any chances.
“But what happened at your cottage last night?” Dawn asked after the introductions were complete. “I saw flashing lights and a bunch of cars over there when I was going to bed.”
“Unfortunately, someone broke in,” Bessie replied.
“I hope nothing valuable was taken,” Dawn said.
“I don’t have anything valuable to take,” Bessie told her with a wry grin. “I suppose I’m lucky in a way that I’ve always had to live very frugally. I’ve never accumulated valuable jewellery or expensive trinkets.”
“Do such things happen often on the island?” Dawn asked.
“No, not at all,” Bessie replied. “I’ve lived in that cottage since I was eighteen and this was the first time anyone has ever broken in. As far as I know, no one has ever broken into any of the holiday cottages, either.” Aside from the one time that someone was murdered in one, but Bessie didn’t bother Dawn with that information.
“That’s good to hear,” Dawn said. “Although we’ve nothing of value in our cottage, either. I left all of my good jewellery at home, and I don’t collect trinkets, valuable or otherwise. Have the police made any arrests yet?”
“No arrests, but I understand they have a suspect in mind,” Bessie told her. When Dawn immediately glanced at her brother, Bessie was suspicious.
“I hope they can work out who did it quickly,” she told Bessie. “Someone came by last night to ask us if we’d seen anything, but we were busy having dinner and drinks on the beach. Someone probably could have pulled a removals van up to your door and emptied your cottage without us noticing.”
“I hope not,” Bessie exclaimed.
“Dawn, we’re not waiting all day,” Brandon shouted from his place by the door. When Dawn didn’t move, he crossed the room to join them. “Let’s find somewhere else,” he said. “I’ll text the others from wherever we end up.”
“I suspect most places will have short waits at this time of day,” Bessie told him coolly. “You’re probably better off just waiting here.”
“Maybe you’d be better off minding your own business,” Brandon snarled at her.
Bessie stared up at him with a level gaze. “I was just trying to help,” she said. “You’re strangers here, and I know the island well. During the summer, Douglas gets quite busy, you see.”
Brandon’s eyes stared into hers. “You seem to have lots of friends in the police,” he said. “It looked as if you were having a party last night.”
“Sadly, I wasn’t,” Bessie said. “Someone broke into my cottage. The police were there to investigate.”
“Nothing taken, I hope,” the man said.
“A few things, but nothing that can’t be replaced,” Bessie replied.
Brandon opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. He looked over at his sister. “Let’s go,” he said sharply.
“It must be nearly time for our table to be ready,” she argued. “Anyway, there’s Dad.” She waved at the man who was standing in the doorway, looking around.
“Mike and Horace aren’t going to want to wait,” Brandon told her as Dawn got to her feet.
“Horace will wait if I ask him to,” Dawn replied, “besides they aren’t even here yet.”
“Miss Cubbon? Your table is ready,” the young hostess said softly to Bessie.
“Good, thank you,” Bessie said. She and the others got to their feet and began to follow the girl into the restaurant.
“Don’t forget to keep your doors locked,” Brandon said in a menacing tone as she walked past him. When she turned to look at him, he gave her a nasty grin. “Just sharing some advice of my own,” he told her.
Bessie shivered and then walked quickly away. She and her friends were seated in a quiet corner of the large restaurant, and Bessie was happy to settle in. “I hope they leave,” she told Grace in a low voice.
“If they do stay, I hope they end up sitting on the opposite side of the room,” Grace hissed.
“Garlic bread?” the girl asked after she’d handed them all menus.
“Oh, yes, we’d better have two,” Bessie told her.
She nodded and then walked away. Their waiter was there a moment later to get drink orders. By the time they were ready to order their meals, the garlic bread had already been delivered.
Bessie was relieved to see Dawn and her group seated on the opposite side of the room. That didn’t stop her and probably everyone in the restaurant from hearing everything that Brandon said as he ordered himself a pint of lager and complained about the menu options.
“It’s all Italian food,” he shouted.
“It’s an Italian restaurant,” Mike said in a voice nearly as loud. “Just order some spaghetti Bolognese and shut up.”
“I don’t like Italian food,” Brandon told him.
“Then go back to the cottage and eat some of the crap you’ve stashed all over the place,” Mike suggested.
“Dawn wanted to come here, and I think it’s very nice,” Horace said, raising his voice to be heard over the others.
“You think anything Dawn likes is very nice,” Brandon snapped. “Because you want to get in her pa…”
“That’s enough,” Lucas Mason barked. “Brandon, find something to eat or simply sit there with your mouth shut while the rest of us eat. I don’t want to hear another word out of you.”
Bessie hid a grin as she sipped her drink. It wasn’t often you heard a father shout at his son when the son was in his forties. Brandon didn’t look nearly as amused as Bessie felt. He downed half of his drink in a single swallow and then waved to their waitress for another.
“Brandon is the man you think broke into the cottage, right?” Grace whispered.
“Yes. The older man is his father, Lucas. The woman is Dawn Gray, Walter’s wife,” Bessie replied.
“Brandon is thoroughly unpleasant, anyway, even if he didn’t have anything to do with your break-in,” Grace said. “Who are the other two men?”
“They’re both Brandon’s friends, although I gather Horace would like to be more than friends with Dawn,” Bessie said. “Now let’s talk about what we’re going to do after lunch.”
The little group quickly agreed that the local bookshop was their main priority.
“I need some shampoo and a few other things,” Amy said, blushing lightly. “Dad doesn’t have the right things.”
Grace smiled. “I’m sure he had no idea what to buy for you,” she said. “My father is totally lost when it comes to the sorts of products that women use.”
“I didn’t think to bring anything with me because, well, when we all lived together everything I needed was there. I never stopped to think that it was Mum who was doing the shopping in those days,” Amy told them.
“There’s a ShopFast just down the road,” Grace said. “You and I can pop in there while Bessie and Thomas have a stroll on the promenade. Then we can all meet in the bookshop before we go for ice cream.”
“Ice cream?” Thomas grinned. “That’s the best part of the plan by far.”
With ice cream on the cards, they decided to skip pudding at the restaurant. Bessie used the money John had given her to pay for lunch, adding the tip herself. “You did the driving,” she told Grace.
“Dad gave us some extra money,” Amy said.
“Save that for the shops,” Bessie told her.
They were making their way back through the restaurant when Bessie saw a familiar face. She stopped as Constance Hamilton strolled into the room. As Bessie glanced over at Dawn, Brandon spotted the new arrival.
“Well, well, well, look who’s here,” he said loudly.
Dawn looked up and flushed. “Constance?” she said softly.
Constance turned and looked at Dawn. “Oh, dear,” she exclaimed.
“Oh, dear?” Dawn echoed. “Oh, dear? Is that really an appropriate greeting, do you think?” Dawn got to her feet and advanced towards the other woman.
Bessie took a few steps backwards, guiding the children and Grace behind her. It would probably be best if they didn’t witness the argument that Bessie was sure was about to begin, but Bessie was determined not to miss it.
“Dawn, hello,” Constance said in an artificially bright voice. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“No, I’m sure you weren’t,” Dawn replied. “I’m sure you were hoping you’d never see me again after you ran off with my husband.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Constance protested. “I didn’t realise, I mean, I didn’t know anything about him.”
Dawn laughed. “I saw the article in the paper where you talked about how you were taken in by Walter’s deception,” she said. “You had the nerve to claim that you actually thought he was a vicar.”
“He was very convincing,” Constance replied.
“Except you’d already known him for what, three years, maybe four, before he moved over here as Reverend Doyle,” Dawn said. “Or are you claiming that you thought he was really a vicar all along and just pretending to be Walter Gray?”
“It’s all very complicated,” Constance protested.
“It’s complicated by the fact that you lied to the police and to the newspapers,” Dawn said. “That’s making it harder for the police to work out who killed Walter. The reporter from the local paper might have believed your lies, but I can promise you the police do not. I’ve told them all about you and how you wormed your way into my husband’s affections and stole him away from me.”
“I did no such thing,” Constance snapped. “He got tired of you and your constant demands. You were never happy, and every time he got into any trouble, you ran back to your daddy and got him to look after you. Walter had had enough of trying to compete with your father, that’s all.”
“He wasn’t half the man my father is,” Dawn said. “I should have listened to Dad when he told me not to marry Walter in the first place.”
“Yeah, you should have,” Constance agreed. “You two were all wrong for each other.”
“And you were better for Walter?” Dawn asked.
“I was a lot better for him. I helped him with whatever he needed to do,” Constance replied. “I was even willing to come over and hide out with him in that tiny house while he pretended to be a vicar. You never would have done that.”
“No, I wouldn’t have,” Dawn agreed. “I never supported him in his criminal endeavours.”
“This wasn’t a criminal anything,” Constance told her. “This was just about staying safe. There were some very scary people looking for Walter.”
“And if you’d tell the police about them, maybe they’d be able to work out who killed him,” Dawn pointed out.
“Yeah, but I’m afraid of them as well,” Constance said. “I don’t want to be the next victim.”
“Who was Walter hiding from?” Dawn demanded.
Constance shrugged. “I don’t know, really. When he got out of prison, he and I started doing some travelling. At some point something happened, but I don’t know what, and I’m not sure where it happened. I only noticed over time that Walter was being increasingly secretive. Then, about six weeks ago, he decided we should move to the Isle of Man. He’d found out that a vicar was needed and he’d found a way to put himself forward for the position. I don’t know exactly what he did, but a short time later he told me that we were moving.”
“You really need to talk to the police,” Dawn said steadily.
“I don’t want to,” Constance said, making a face.
“How about I make you?” Brandon asked, getting up from his chair.
Constance looked at him for a moment and then smiled. “Hey, Brandon,” she said softly. “You don’t really want to get me into any trouble, do you?” she cooed.
Brandon flushed and looked down at the ground. “Maybe she doesn’t need to talk to the police,” he said to Dawn.
“That’s right, before you stole my husband from me, you were sleeping with my brother, weren’t you?” Dawn asked. “I can’t believe we were ever friends.”
“Brandon and I are both single. Who we sleep with isn’t anyone else’s business,” Constance retorted.
“What’s your excuse for sleeping with my husband, then?” Dawn demanded.
“You left him,” Constance replied. “You went back to live with your father and left him.”
“He went to prison,” Dawn said. “I couldn’t very well go with him, could I?”
“You didn’t even visit. He told me, when I visited, that you’d told him you wanted a divorce,” Constance answered.
“I told him I wanted to talk about a divorce when he got out,” Dawn argued, “but when he got out he ran off with you instead.”
“We fell in love,” Constance told her, pulling a tissue from her pocket and dabbing at her eyes. “I never meant for it to happen, but it did. I never wanted to hurt you, you know that.”
Dawn laughed. “So touching, and almost believable. I know better of course, but by all means keep up the pretense. Other people might even feel sorry for you.”
“I feel sorry for you,” Constance snapped. She took a step closer to the other woman. “You lost Walter and now you’re sad and bitter about it. He didn’t love you anymore. Maybe it was you that he was hiding from, did you ever think about that?”
“He had no reason to hide from me,” Dawn said steadily. “If he wanted a divorce, all he had to do was ask. I was going to file soon anyway.”
“Yeah, that’s what you say now. Maybe you’re just telling people that to hide how much you hated him and how angry you were that he left,” Constance suggested. “Maybe you’re just trying to divert suspicion since you killed him.”
Dawn closed the distance between herself and Constance. “How dare you,” she hissed, her face only inches from Constance’s. “I loved Walter, and as much as I hate to admit it, I would have taken him back in a second if he’d asked. I’m not proud of that, but that’s how much I loved him. You were just a passing fancy, like all
of the other women before you. He was my husband, and he would have come back to me if he hadn’t been brutally murdered.”
“You tell yourself that if it helps you feel better,” Constance said mockingly. “I know the truth. I was the one on the island with the man, not you. I was the one who shared his very last kiss with him.”
“You reckon? Maybe you did, but maybe he had another woman,” Dawn said. “Maybe he was seeing someone behind your back and that’s what got him killed. He wasn’t the faithful type, but I don’t have to tell you that, do I?”
Movement in the doorway silenced both women. Bessie didn’t recognise the man who walked into the restaurant with two uniformed constables on his heels.
“Ladies, I’m sure you aren’t meaning to disturb everyone’s lunch,” the man said in a low, firm voice. “Let’s take this conversation elsewhere, shall we?”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Constance snapped. “I’m going to have some lunch. Please take her away, though. She was saying horrible things to me.”
The man shrugged. “I’m sorry, but you’re both going to have to come with me. We’ll sort everything out at the station.”
“I’m not finished eating yet,” Dawn protested.
“I’m sure the restaurant can box your meal up,” the man said. “You can finish it later.”
“My sister should be allowed to finish eating,” Brandon said loudly. “I don’t know who you are, but you can’t just drag her out of here like this.”
“I’m Inspector Davidson with the Douglas CID,” the man replied. “I don’t want to have to arrest anyone, really, but if people don’t want to cooperate, I will.”
“You can’t arrest my sister. She hasn’t done anything wrong,” Brandon shouted.
“Brandon, sit down,” Lucas Mason said sharply. “Inspector Davidson, I’m sure my daughter didn’t mean to cause a scene. She’s had a difficult few days, learning that her husband had been murdered and then finding out that he’d been living with a woman whom she’d once considered her closest friend. I’m afraid when she saw that former friend in here she simply couldn’t keep quiet. If you’d like to discuss the matter with her elsewhere, I’m sure she’ll cooperate.”
Aunt Bessie Questions (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 17) Page 14