Aunt Bessie Believes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery)

by Diana Xarissa

  “I suppose that’s true,” she said after the pause. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

  “I know. I don’t want to see me get hurt, either,” Doona laughed. “But I do rather feel that I’m being swept off my feet, and it’s quite a pleasant feeling.”

  “Does Andrew talk about Moirrey at all?” Bessie asked. “I’m wondering if he has any idea who might have wanted to kill her.”

  “Don’t tell me your getting involved in the investigation?” Doona demanded. “Didn’t you learn anything from what happened last time?”

  “I learned a lot,” Bessie told her. “I shall only ever be meeting potential suspects in public places, for one thing. Anyway, I’m not really getting involved; I’m just being nosy. I can’t imagine anyone killing Moirrey, even though she was an unpleasant person.”

  Doona chuckled. “She was definitely that, although I’ve tried hard to say nice things about her to Andrew.”

  “That must be a struggle,” Bessie laughed.

  “It isn’t too bad,” Doona replied. “I barely knew the woman, after all. We only spoke twice, once at the station and then at the first language class. She was rude and nasty to me on both occasions, but we get all kinds at the station and she was horrible to everyone in class.”

  “You didn’t answer my question,” Bessie reminded her. “Does Andrew have any idea who might have killed his sister?”

  “He doesn’t really,” Doona replied. “We’ve discussed it once or twice, but he wasn’t able to come up with anyone that he thought would have wanted Moirrey dead. Oh, he knows she was fighting with Anne about the cottage and I guess she wasn’t the only one Moirrey was battling, but none of that seems worth killing someone over.”

  “I was hoping he might be able to suggest someone we hadn’t thought of,” Bessie said with a sigh. “I can’t see anyone I know being responsible.”

  “I can’t see anyone I know being responsible, either. It was obviously carefully planned, right down to making sure they didn’t leave any fingerprints on the tablets or on the bottle. Maybe it was all just an accident of some sort.”

  “I’m not sure how, but never mind,” Bessie said. “What about Anne’s car? Does Andrew have any ideas on who might have damaged her brakes?”

  “Andrew and I both reckon that whoever did it was targeting someone else,” Doona replied. “I heard a rumour that the assistant manager is having an affair. Maybe his wife found out and wanted to kill him.”

  “Surely his wife would know which car was his?” Bessie argued.

  “Okay, maybe his wife thought that he was having the affair with Anne?”

  “Anne wouldn’t do that.”

  “But the wife might not know that,” Doona replied. “Why else would anyone want to kill Anne?”

  “I have no idea, but I can’t help but think that the attack on her is connected to Moirrey’s murder somehow.”

  “Maybe that developer that Moirrey was talking about is behind it all,” Doona said. “You know, the one who offered Moirrey loads of money for Anne’s cottage? Maybe he got tired of waiting for Moirrey to get the property back, so he decided to kill both Moirrey and Anne.”

  “What good would their deaths do him?”

  “I’ll bet he’s got some deal going with Matthew Barnes. If Andrew hadn’t turned up when he did, Mr. Barnes would have been left in charge of everything. Mr. Barnes probably promised the developer that he could buy the property at a great price once the estate was settled.”

  “But Andrew did turn up,” Bessie reminded her friend. “And before Anne’s brake lines were cut. With Andrew here, any deals that anyone made with Mr. Barnes won’t go through.”

  “I don’t know,” Doona laughed. “Maybe Matthew Barnes is trying to kill everyone associated with the Teare estate. Maybe Andrew is next; I’d better warn him.”

  “I don’t like Matthew Barnes,” Bessie stated the obvious. “But I’m not sure that he’s a murderer.”

  “Well, Andrew doesn’t like him either. He’s really pushing hard for DNA testing before he’ll let Andrew have anything to do with the estate. Meanwhile, everything is in limbo, which means Andrew is running low on funds.”

  “Don’t lend him any money,” Bessie said sharply.

  Doona laughed. “My goodness, you are suspicious of everyone, aren’t you? I’m not going to lend him any money. At least not yet. But if they don’t get things settled quickly, he’s going to have to liquidate some assets in the UK and that means a trip across. He’s suggesting that I should go with him when he goes. He’s promising a romantic weekend somewhere fabulous.”

  Bessie swallowed a dozen replies before she managed a neutral answer. “You should think about that very carefully.”

  Doona laughed again. “Aye, I certainly will. But now I have to dash. Andrew’s picking me up in just a few hours for dinner and I want to do my nails and have a long soak in the bath first. I thought we’d drive down to Port Erin and try that new Japanese restaurant everyone’s talking about.”

  “I’ve heard good things about the food,” Bessie told her. “And from what I’ve heard, the views from the dining room are gorgeous as well.”

  “I’ve heard the same. I can’t wait.”

  Bessie spent the rest of the afternoon returning the rest of the calls from her answering machine and then getting back to her list of people to talk to about Moirrey’s possible boyfriend. While she always loved having a chance to chat with her friends, it was frustrating today because she didn’t feel as if she was getting anywhere.

  Finally she called Janet Munroe, a woman she knew more by reputation than in reality.

  “Yes?” The voice on phone was clipped and sharp, even on that single syllable.

  “Ms. Munroe? This is Bessie Cubbon. I was just calling to see how you were doing now that Moirrey is no longer with us.”

  “She’s dead, Ms. Cubbon. I’ve never understood why people feel the need to tip-toe around death, finding all sorts of ridiculous euphemisms for it, when it’s a perfectly natural occurrence that we shall all experience one day.”

  Bessie wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she changed the subject. “I hope you aren’t feeling too lonely?”

  “I’m never lonely,” was the emphatic reply. “People who are miserable in their own company are never good company for other people, either.”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to meet up for a cup of tea and a chat?” Bessie pressed on in spite of her desire to hang up.

  “I suppose you want to question me about Moirrey,” the woman said tartly. “I’m sure you fancy yourself an amateur detective after your experiences last month. Luckily for you, I’ve nothing better to do at the moment. If you want to spend your money buying me tea and cake, I can’t complain.”

  Bessie thought about arguing that she hadn’t said anything about cake, but decided she wanted to talk to the other woman too much. “Terrific,” she said. “What works for you as far as time and location?”

  “We can meet at the coffee shop at the Manx Museum tomorrow at two,” the other woman told her. “I’ll see you there.”

  The phone was hung up, none too gently, before Bessie had a chance to reply. “Well, okay then,” she muttered into the dead receiver, feeling grumpy and out of sorts. Janet and Moirrey deserved each other, she thought to herself as she tidied up the cottage.

  She expressed the same opinion to Inspector Rockwell a few hours later when he arrived with the pizza. Hugh wasn’t far behind, and two large pizzas seemed to disappear at an astonishing rate. The inspector had also brought apple pie and custard and that didn’t last long, either.

  “What do you mean?” Rockwell asked her.

  “I mean Janet Munroe sounds as nasty and unlikeable as her former employer,” Bessie explained. “She was quite sharp with me on the phone.”

  “She was quite sharp with me when I interviewed her,” the inspector replied. “She’s, um, difficult, but perhaps not as deliberatel
y rude and unkind as Moirrey was.”

  “She accused me of playing amateur detective,” Bessie complained.

  Hugh nearly choked on a sip of soda. “Sorry,” he sputtered as he coughed and tried to get his breath. “Your comment just struck me funny.”

  “I don’t see anything funny about it,” Bessie sniffed. She and Rockwell exchanged glances and then they both laughed. “Okay, maybe she has a point, but she didn’t have to be so rude about it.”

  Inspector Rockwell chuckled at he finished his last bite of pie. “I’m just hoping you can get more from her than I did,” he told Bessie. “I have a feeling the missing boyfriend is significant.”

  “Unless Janet made him up to shift suspicion from herself,” Bessie suggested.

  “You really didn’t like her, did you?” Hugh grinned.

  “No, but even so, has anyone else said anything about a boyfriend?”

  “No,” Rockwell admitted. “But there is some evidence to suggest that she’s telling the truth. Moirrey had hangers full of new dresses in her wardrobe and a bunch of bottles and containers of makeup on her dresser. She also had a bottle of very expensive perfume in her bathroom. I’ve been told that she usually lived in trousers and never wore makeup or perfume.”

  “I’d have to agree with that,” Bessie said, thoughtfully. “I don’t think I ever saw her wear makeup in all the years I knew her, not even as a teenager when all the other girls her age were experimenting with it. In fact I seem to remember her saying something about having an allergy to quote, ‘all that goo,’ end of quote.”

  “According to Dr. Quayle she didn’t have any allergies,” Rockwell remarked. “But he remembered her once saying something about makeup not being worth the expense or bother.”

  “That sounds like Moirrey,” Bessie agreed.

  “So why did she have a bunch of containers of makeup on her dresser?” Rockwell asked. “Some of them hadn’t even been opened yet.”

  “Maybe they were planted there by the housekeeper to give more believability to her story,” Bessie suggested.

  “Wow, I almost hope she’s guilty of something, given how much you dislike her,” Rockwell grinned. “If she did plant them, she did a great job. The only recoverable fingerprints on any of the containers were Moirrey’s own. And I’m told the prints were positioned where she would’ve held the containers if she was using their contents.”

  “Well, I talked to every nosy woman in Laxey and not one of them had any idea that Moirrey was dating anyone. If she was dating, she and her partner were both very discreet.”

  “That’s hard to imagine on this island,” Hugh said.

  “Indeed,” Rockwell replied. “Moirrey, or possibly her suitor, had to have a very strong reason for keeping the relationship a secret. Any idea what it might have been?”

  Bessie shook her head. “The family was always very private, but this does seem to go beyond that. I would guess that the man must have been unsuitable in some way.”

  “Unsuitable?” Rockwell asked.

  “Married? Working class? Much younger or much older? Take your pick or add another category.”

  “Okay, let’s start with married. Any married men rumoured to be cheating at the moment?”

  “Not really,” Bessie said. “There are a few men that people have been speculating about, including the assistant manager at La Terrazza, where Anne works, but from what I’ve heard, he’s cheating with one of the waitresses.”

  “No chance he dated Moirrey and then moved on to the waitress after her death?” Rockwell asked.

  “Unlikely,” Bessie replied. “Apparently they’ve been a not terribly secret couple for a few months now.”

  “What about Anne’s husband, Jack?” Hugh asked. “I’ve had him in the back of my car more than once, getting him home after a long night in The Cat and Longtail. Usually, he’d been keeping company with a woman before he passed out. I reckon he’d have gone after anything female.”

  “You may be right, but it appears he was off island for the last few months. It’s possible, but not confirmed, that he came back to the island in the last couple of days.” Rockwell told him.

  “So he could have cut his wife’s brake lines,” Hugh suggested.

  “He could,” Rockwell agreed. “And I guess he might have had a motive as well. It wasn’t exactly a happy marriage.”

  “I can’t see Moirrey getting involved with Jack Caine, anyway,” Bessie interjected. “She knew exactly what sort of man he was and I can’t see her being anything other than insulted if he ever tried to flirt with her.”

  “You said Moirrey would have hidden a relationship with anyone working class,” Rockwell said. “Was she really that much of a snob?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” Bessie answered. “But before you ask, I don’t have any suggestions for possible candidates in that category. Moirrey wasn’t exactly hanging around at the pub or doing her own shopping. I’m not sure where she’d meet anyone of any class, really.”

  “Maybe she had some work done at the house?” Hugh suggested. “Or maybe she took up with the window cleaner or something.”

  “That’s something else I’ll ask Ms. Munroe about tomorrow,” Bessie replied. “From what is heard, Moirrey wasn’t having anything done anywhere. I think money was tight, although she’d never admit to it.”

  “What about Matthew Barnes?” Hugh asked.

  “What about him?” Bessie replied. “You’re not suggesting that he was the mystery boyfriend?”

  “Why not?” Rockwell chimed in. “They certainly had an excuse to spend time together.”

  “He must be nearly twice her age,” Bessie argued. “And she’d known him since she was a teenager. I can’t imagine them starting a relationship now. Why would they?”

  “What if Barnes has been stealing from her all these years? Maybe he figured if he could get her to fall in love with him she wouldn’t sue him,” Hugh suggested.

  “As much as I’d like to believe every bad thing I can about the man, that seems too awful, even for him. Besides, I can imagine that Moirrey would be really excited about dating him. He was considered quite a catch when she was younger and I think she’d still see him that way. I can’t believe she’d be able to resist bragging to someone if she were dating him.”

  “To whom would she have bragged?” Rockwell asked. “She must have had a friend and confidante that she would have shared all the details with.”

  Bessie shrugged. “I don’t know that she did. As I said, the family was quite reserved and almost secretive. I never gave it much thought in the past, but now that I look back, they kept both children very close to home and kept their secrets to themselves. I don’t know that Moirrey has ever had a close friend.”

  “So maybe she wasn’t hiding the boyfriend, maybe she just didn’t have anyone to tell,” Rockwell speculated.

  “No, Moirrey bragged to everyone she met when she had something exciting to tell people about,” Bessie answered. “And finding a boyfriend after all these years would have been very exciting for her. She would have mentioned it in class if she wanted anyone to know.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see what you can find out from Ms. Munroe,” Rockwell shrugged.

  “This seems weird without Doona here,” Bessie remarked as she made a pot of tea for everyone.

  “It does,” Rockwell agreed. “But I doubt she’d have come, even if we could have invited her. She’s far too busy with Andrew Teare to worry about anything else.”

  “I think she’s very worried about the murder and about the attack on Anne Caine,” Bessie disagreed. “But there isn’t really anything she can do, is there?”

  “I guess not,” the inspector shrugged.

  “What’s going on with Mr. Teare?” Bessie asked. “Doona said Mr. Barnes was pushing for a DNA test, but he wasn’t cooperating?”

  “Actually, I had a call from Mr. Barnes this afternoon,” Rockwell told her. “He’s now acting for Andrew Teare an
d his client has supplied a hair sample for us to use for DNA testing.”

  “Doona didn’t know that,” Bessie remarked. “But I thought it was Mr. Barnes who was insisting on the DNA sample. Surely if Andrew Teare has proper identification, a DNA sample isn’t needed?”

  “When Mr. Teare first turned up, Matthew Barnes insisted that he was an imposter and demanded that we DNA test him before he would proceed with settling Moirrey’s estate. Now that the two appear to have made up, Mr. Teare has apparently offered the sample so as to, as Mr. Barnes put it, ‘remove any stain of doubt’ from his claim.”

  “So how long will it take to get the results?” Bessie asked.

  “At least a week,” the inspector sighed. “I’m doing everything I can to encourage the lab to work faster, though.”

  “So where does all of this leave us?” Bessie asked. It was getting late and they seemed to have just been talking in circles all night.

  “I don’t know,” Rockwell replied. “We have a handful of suspects for Moirrey’s murder. I would put Anne and Janet Munroe at the top of that list. I’d love to add Jack Caine to it, but he wasn’t on the island to do the swap. Matthew Barnes is on the list as well, but my favourite suspect, by far, is the mystery boyfriend.”

  “If only we knew his identity,” Bessie said.

  “And then we have a handful of suspects for slashing Anne’s brakes. I can’t imagine Ms. Munroe wanting to kill Anne for any reason. I guess Mr. Barnes is a possibility on that one, but then, so is Jack Caine, or even Andy. Realistically, just about anyone on the island had the means and the opportunity to do it, but the motive is a mystery.”

  “And the two things might not be connected,” Hugh added.

  “That’s always possible,” Rockwell conceded. “But it would be an awfully big coincidence if they aren’t.”

  “I guess that’s it for tonight then?” Bessie asked. “I’ll talk to Ms. Munroe tomorrow and see what I can find out from her. Are we meeting again tomorrow night?”