Aunt Bessie Considers (Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 3)

by Diana Xarissa

  “I mean someone who has a connection to Mack that we haven’t uncovered yet,” he explained. “I haven’t met any of the suspects myself. I’m just working from Pete Corkill’s notes. It seems to me that some of the people he’s talked to must be hiding things.”

  Bessie smiled. “I’m inclined to agree with Inspector Rockwell,” she told them. “But I’ll go one further. I think we’re looking for a woman, either Mack’s current secret girlfriend or someone that he used to date in the past.”

  “Why?” was Hugh’s blunt question.

  “I can’t see Mack accepting a snack from Harold or any of the other men at the conference. Especially not after the bombshell he’d just dropped. While I’m sure Mack never expected to be murdered, he would have been wary of someone ostensibly bringing him a treat after he’d announced his controversial findings,” Bessie answered.

  “Here’s a thought,” Hugh interjected. “What if his secret lover gave him the brownie to bring with him or something? Maybe she isn’t even here.”

  “If that’s the case, who took Mack’s injectors, who stole the slides and who drugged Bambi?” Rockwell asked.

  Hugh frowned. “Okay, maybe not,” he muttered.

  “All of those things don’t have to be connected,” Rockwell conceded. “But I’m wary of coincidences, especially where murder is involved.”

  “So if you’re sure it was a woman who killed Mack, do you think she took the slides to confuse things?” Doona asked Bessie. “Or do you think she has a professional interest in what Mack was doing and that’s why she took the slides?”

  “The slides confuse things,” Bessie admitted.

  Rockwell yawned. “I think we need to leave it there for tonight,” he said, clearly reluctantly.

  “We all need some sleep. Bessie’s giving her paper tomorrow afternoon and we’ve all promised to be there,” Doona reminded the others.

  “I’m looking forward to it,” Hugh said with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm.

  Bessie laughed. “You really don’t have to come,” she told the young man.

  “I want to come,” he insisted. “If nothing else, I want a good look at all of the suspects.”

  Everyone laughed and then the party broke up. Hugh headed out, closely followed by the others.

  “Make sure you lock up tight,” Doona reminded Bessie.

  “Yes, I know.” Bessie rolled her eyes at Inspector Rockwell.

  “I’ll pick you up at half seven,” Doona continued. “That should get us to the conference in plenty of time for breakfast.”

  Bessie glanced at the kitchen clock and winced as she counted just how few hours sleep she was going to get.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” she told Doona. “And I guess I’ll see you at my talk,” she said to Rockwell.

  “You will indeed,” the inspector smiled at her.

  Bessie locked her door, making faces at the absent Doona as she double-checked that it was locked tightly.

  Upstairs, she raced through her getting-to-bed routine, promising herself she’d make more of an effort with her teeth the next day. She climbed into bed, convinced that all of the caffeine in her system would keep her awake. What felt like ten minutes later she was shocked awake by the alarm she had nearly not bothered to set.

  Chapter Ten

  Bessie had fully expected her internal clock to wake her at her normal time and had set the alarm as a backup only. Now she’d overslept and she needed to hurry to make sure she was ready when Doona arrived.

  She showered, dressed and quickly ran a brush through her grey hair, grateful that she wore it quite short. Downstairs, she eyed the coffee pot longingly. There was no point in brewing an entire pot, though, not when she was going to be out all day. She sighed and made herself a cup of tea instead. It did little to help combat her tiredness, but she promised herself several cups of coffee at the conference breakfast.

  She was only a little bit surprised to see Inspector Rockwell’s car pull into the parking area next to her cottage at half seven. Doona waved to Bessie from the backseat as Bessie locked up her cottage. The inspector climbed out the driver’s side to help Bessie into the car.

  “I figured I might as well come along for the whole day of the conference, rather than just come for your talk,” he explained to Bessie as they made their way out of Laxey.

  “Your wife doesn’t mind?” Bessie asked curiously.

  “She’s across with the kids,” Rockwell told her. “She takes them back to see her mother most weekends at the moment. Her mother hasn’t been well and this gives my wife a chance to pick up groceries and tidy up the house for her for the week ahead.”

  “I see,” Bessie answered.

  “Anyway, I’ve leased a little terraced house just a few streets over from Doona so that I can stay in Laxey when I have to work late. I decided to stay there last night to save driving back to Ramsey after our late meeting, so it just made sense for me to pick up you and Doona this morning.”

  “And it’s much nicer going to these things with friends,” Doona interjected from the backseat. “I was worried that I wouldn’t have anyone to sit with all day.”

  “You can sit with me,” Bessie laughed. “At least until my talk.”

  “I wasn’t sure if you had other things you needed to do,” Doona replied.

  “Not really,” Bessie said with a shrug. “Anyway, you know Marjorie and Liz; I expect they’ll both be there.”

  Doona nodded. “All true, but John doesn’t know any of them.”

  Bessie laughed again. “In that case, I suppose it’s helpful that you’ll be there to sit with him, then,” she told Doona.

  The museum car park was mostly empty when Rockwell pulled into it a few minutes before eight. Bessie smiled at the security guard at the door who was checking everyone in.

  He knew Bessie on sight and smiled as she introduced her friends. “John Rockwell and Doona Moore have come in with me today,” she explained. “They both registered for the day.”

  “They’re both on my list,” he assured Bessie. “Breakfast should be set up in the upstairs foyer.”

  “Thank you,” Bessie started to move past him, but he caught her arm.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Dr. Smythe or Ms. Stevens this morning?” he asked, his tone anxious.

  “I haven’t, no,” Bessie said. “I would have thought they would both be here by now.”

  “They were supposed to be here at seven,” the man told her. “But so far I haven’t seen either of them. Henry has been following the schedule and instructions that he worked out with Dr. Smythe in advance, but no one seems to be sure what’s going on.”

  Bessie glanced at Rockwell, who shook his head. “I don’t know,” she told the man. “We all had a very late night. Maybe they both simply overslept.”

  “I hope so,” he replied gloomily.

  Inside the museum foyer, Rockwell pulled out his phone and stepped away from Bessie and Doona to make a quick call.

  “Dr. Smythe and Ms. Stevens are both at the Douglas station answering a few questions,” he told the women when he returned a minute later.

  “They’ve been arrested?” Doona gasped.

  “Not at all,” Rockwell assured her. “Pete Corkill had a few questions to ask them both and it was easier for him to have them brought to him there than to run down here again, that’s all.”

  “So they’ll both be here soon?” Bessie asked.

  “I would hope so,” Rockwell replied.

  The trio made their way to the lifts and up to the top floor. Bessie made a beeline for the coffee pots, filling cups for herself as well as for her friends.

  “Ah, I needed that,” the inspector told her after his first sip. “I haven’t bothered to get appliances for my little house, but I’m thinking a toaster and coffee pot are going to be essential.”

  Doona grinned as she filled a plate. “I didn’t realise the food here was going to be so lovely,” she said as she scooped
fresh fruit onto her plate. She added a plain croissant and some sort of fruit Danish to the pile.

  “There’s seating in the Kinvig Room,” Bessie told her, pointing towards the open door.

  Bessie filled her own plate, consciously ignoring the section of the room that was marked off with police tape. Rockwell walked over to the small group of chairs and took a look before he rejoined Bessie and made his own breakfast selections.

  “Did you learn anything from the crime scene?” Bessie asked as they worked their way down the food table.

  “Not a thing,” Rockwell grinned. “But I didn’t expect to. I just couldn’t resist having a peek.”

  “I suppose if Bambi had died, Inspector Corkill would have blocked off the entire foyer today,” she remarked.

  “Undoubtedly,” Rockwell agreed.

  Inside the Kinvig Room, Doona had joined the small crowd that was already eating at one of the tables provided. Rockwell and Bessie headed towards her, but Bessie was intercepted.

  “Bessie, how’s Bambi this morning?” Claire Jamison looked like she’d had even less sleep than Bessie. Her dark hair was pulled back into an untidy ponytail and behind her thick glasses Bessie could see dark circles under her eyes.

  Bessie glanced at Rockwell and then back at the girl. “You’d have to call Noble’s for an update,” she told her. “And I’m not sure if they’re giving out any information at the moment.”

  That wasn’t strictly true. Bessie knew that they absolutely were not giving out any information. They’d told her that both last night and early this morning when she’d called. Once she’d given her name, however, thanks to Inspector Corkill’s kindness, they’d shared limited updates.

  This morning Bessie had been told that Bambi was going to be fine, but she wasn’t yet well enough to speak to the police. Bessie was tempted to tell the very worried-looking Claire Jamison the good news, but she’d promised to keep it confidential.

  “But you must know something,” Claire insisted now. “You went with her in the ambulance last night.”

  “I did, and as soon as we arrived, I was sent to the lobby to fill out a huge stack of paperwork while the medical team did their job. By the time I’d waded through the few questions I could answer, Inspector Corkill had arrived. He’s the one who won’t be letting any information be released, I suspect. I haven’t spoken to him since last night.”

  “I’m so worried about her,” Claire said with a frown. “We only talked a few times, but she was taking Mack’s death so hard. I was afraid she might try something, but I thought she’d wait until after she got back to the UK.”

  “You think her overdose was a suicide attempt?” Rockwell asked.

  “What else could it have been?” Claire asked in a confused tone.

  “An accident,” Bessie suggested. “Did you get the feeling that Bambi was taking drugs? Because I wondered.”

  Claire shook her head. “I don’t know much about drugs,” she said. “Bambi just seemed like a sweet kid. She was a little, um, distracted at times, but she was also bored and more than a little fed up with that boyfriend of hers.”

  “So she and Mack were fighting?” Rockwell asked.

  “I guess so,” Claire answered, her eyes darting around the room. “Oh, look, there’s Joe. I need to talk to him about....” She trailed off as she walked away from Bessie and the inspector.

  “That was strange,” Bessie remarked as they joined Doona.

  “I’ve no doubt that everyone’s nerves are at the breaking point,” Rockwell replied. “The last two days have been, well, intense, I suppose. I’m guessing dead bodies and drug overdoses aren’t usual at these sorts of conferences.”

  “No,” Bessie agreed. “Usually the most exciting thing that happens is that someone’s slide gets stuck in the projector and everyone worries that it might melt before they can get it out.”

  “I imagine everyone will be asking you about Bambi,” Rockwell added. “It’s only natural for people to be concerned and probably nosy as well.”

  Bessie sighed. “I wish I could tell them that she’s going to be okay,” she whispered to her friends.

  “But you can’t,” the inspector said sternly.

  “So I shall be trying to avoid the question,” Bessie answered.

  “Anyway, I’m assuming that was Claire Jamison, from everything you’ve told me,” Rockwell said.

  “Oh, sorry, I should have introduced you,” Bessie said. “I was just so flustered.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he assured her. “I just figured, since she started the conversation, I should try to get a few questions in. I’m officially off-duty this weekend, and, of course, out of my jurisdiction.”

  “Which one is Helen Baxter?” Doona asked. “I want to meet the woman who’s brave enough to flirt with Peter Corkill.”

  Bessie laughed. “I didn’t know you knew him,” she said curiously.

  “Oh, the Isle of Man Constabulary is just one big happy family,” Doona replied. “We all get together for dinner and drinks all the time.”

  “Really?” Bessie asked in surprise.

  “No, not really,” Doona laughed. “But Inspector Corkill filled in for Inspector Kelly for a few weeks when I first started in the office, long before John got here.”

  “What did you think of him?” Bessie asked.

  “He was totally professional at all times,” Doona told her. “I don’t think I saw him smile even once while he was there and I’m sure the younger officers were terrified of him.”

  “He’s a very good policeman,” Rockwell said firmly. “And those guys usually need a firm hand to keep them in line.”

  “I can’t argue with that,” Doona grinned at him. “But you manage to keep them in line and seem human at the same time.”

  Rockwell laughed. “I’ll take that as high praise,” he replied.

  The room had been filling up slowly and now Bessie nudged her friend. “That’s Helen,” she whispered, gesturing as the pretty blonde standing uncertainly in the doorway with a drink in her hand. Bessie smiled at her and then waved. A relieved look flashed over Helen’s face and then she headed towards them.

  “Ah, Bessie, I must say I could have used another five or six hours of sleep before I saw you again,” Helen said, as she dropped into a chair across the table from the trio.

  “Good morning, Helen.” Bessie smiled at her. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for your help last night,” she said quickly. “I’m not sure what I would have done with all that paperwork if I’d had to handle it on my own.”

  Helen laughed. “You would have managed,” she replied. “And if you hadn’t, we still would have taken good care of Bambi.”

  Bessie performed quick introductions, forcing herself not to laugh as Helen focussed her big blue eyes on the attractive police inspector.

  “John Rockwell, it is ever so nice to meet you,” she cooed. “How is it that you know Bessie?”

  Rockwell grinned at her. “I’m a CID inspector with the Laxey station,” he replied. “I met Bessie when I was investigating a murder and we’ve somehow managed to become friends from there.”

  “Bessie makes friends with everyone,” Helen laughed. She turned to Doona and winked. “And aren’t police inspectors unbelievably attractive these days?”

  Doona flushed. “As I work in the constabulary as well, I think I’d better keep my own counsel on that,” she told Helen.

  Helen laughed again. “Are you a police officer as well?” she asked Doona.

  “Oh no, I just man the front desk. I’m strictly a civilian employee.”

  “And friends with Bessie as well?”

  “We met in a Manx language class a couple of years ago,” Doona explained. “She helped me get through a very tough divorce.”

  “And are you married?” Helen asked Rockwell.

  “I am, yes,” he answered quickly.

  “What a shame,” Helen said with a cheeky grin. “But then I’ve still got Pete Corkill
to work on, so I shouldn’t complain.”

  “Pete’s a good guy,” Rockwell told her. “But he’s only just recently single and he’s had a bad time of it. Please take it easy on him.”

  Helen smiled. “I’ll be good,” she promised. “He actually seems like a decent guy and I sure could use one of those.”

  The inspector looked as if he wanted to say more, but after a moment he took a sip of coffee instead.

  Helen sighed. “That coffee really hit the spot,” she told them. “Now I need to get something to eat, I suppose. I’ll see you later.”

  “She’s very, um, bubbly,” Doona hissed after Helen was out the door.

  “Actually, she’s a really nice person and a dedicated nurse,” Bessie told her friend. “She’s just something of a flirt as well.”

  “I noticed,” Rockwell said dryly.

  Now Bessie pointed out Liz Martin to the inspector. Liz was standing in one corner, holding hands with her husband, Bill.

  “I didn’t know she was bringing Bill today,” Bessie remarked.

  As if aware that she was being discussed, Liz waved at Bessie and then headed towards her, dragging Bill along behind.

  “Good morning, Bessie,” she said when they arrived, giving Bessie a huge and fake looking smile. “Hi, Doona.”

  “Hello,” Bessie answered. “And it’s nice to see you here as well,” she told Bill, whom she had met at the informal class gathering that Marjorie had organised a few weeks earlier.

  Bill nodded, but didn’t speak, and Bessie got the feeling that he was unhappy about something.

  “This is my friend, John Rockwell,” Bessie said.

  “Oh, isn’t he, I mean, didn’t you say, that is,” Liz flushed. “Sorry, I’m all at sixes and sevens today. Aren’t you a police inspector?” she asked Rockwell directly.

  “I am, although I’m off-duty today. I just came to hear Bessie’s talk.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad,” Liz said, clearly disappointed.

  “Liz, what’s going on?” Bessie demanded of her young friend.

  Liz sighed and glanced at Bill. He shook his head and then turned and looked away. She moved closer to him and rested her head on his chest for a moment before straightening up and blowing out a long breath.