Aunt Bessie Enjoys (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 5)

by Diana Xarissa

  “Why was she on the mountain road last night?” Bessie asked.

  “I don’t know,” John replied. “No one I’ve spoken to seems to know, but I haven’t been able to see any of the jam ladies.”

  “Why not?”

  “All three have said they’re too upset to talk to me,” John said in a disgusted voice. “I can’t push it at this point. I’m just hoping, after the initial shock wears off, that they’ll be able to help.”

  Bessie sighed. “I’m devastated,” she told him. “I can’t imagine how they must be feeling. When I saw them on Thursday, they set up a rota for visiting Agnes, to keep an eye on her. They must all be overcome.”

  “Assuming they didn’t have anything to do with it, of course,” John said.

  Bessie frowned. “I can’t imagine why any of the ladies would want to harm Nancy or Agnes,” she said sadly. “There simply isn’t any motive.”

  “Maybe one of them decided she wanted to be the best jam maker in Laxey and she’s eliminating the competition.”

  Bessie shook her head. “I’m sure you meant that a joke, but nothing is funny at the moment,” she told him.

  “Sorry,” John said. “But there simply doesn’t seem to be any motive for anyone to kill either Nancy or Agnes.”

  “Who inherits Agnes’s estate?” Bessie asked.

  John shrugged. “I’m sure it will be common knowledge soon enough,” he said with a sigh. “I spoke to Doncan Quayle, her advocate, this morning. She left a few charitable bequests and the rest gets split between her late sister’s children. They live in Leeds and as far as I can tell, Agnes barely knew them.”

  Bessie nodded. “I remember her telling me, when her son died, that the only family she had left were some nieces in the north of England. She and her sister never got along, apparently, and she said she had no interest in meeting her sister’s children.”

  “Well, apparently she made them her heirs in spite of that,” John said. “Unless a later will turns up, of course. We will be checking on the two women, just to make sure they didn’t decide to get their inheritance early, but as of now we have no reason to believe that they even knew they were in line for anything.”

  “It just doesn’t make sense,” Bessie said. “Nancy and Agnes were just ordinary people. I hate the idea that there might be a random serial killer on the island who is, what, targeting the Raspberry Jam Ladies? None of this makes sense.”

  “I don’t know what to think,” John told her. “I’m trying to consider every possibility. Do you know of anyone who might have had a grudge against the Raspberry Jam Ladies?”

  Bessie started to laugh and then stopped abruptly. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “They’re just a group of old widowed women who get together once a week for tea and to complain about their dead husbands and their kids. Some of them probably have a bit of money, but none of them are rich, by any means.”

  “What about their homes?” John asked. “Do they all own their own homes? Is there anything special about any of them?”

  Bessie shrugged. “I guess they all own their homes, and with the cost of housing where it is, all of the houses are probably worth quite a bit, as well. But I don’t think there’s anything special about any of them. Nancy and Agnes both needed to clean more, and I don’t think either of them ever modernised anything.”

  “Could someone be wanting to buy them all up to tear them down for a new development?”

  “Agnes and Nancy lived near each other, but there are at least a half a dozen houses between the two. I haven’t heard that any developers are poking around in Laxey, at least not in that neighbourhood. Doona might know more, though. She lives in that area, too.”

  The inspector made a note and then drained his cup. Bessie quickly refilled it, which earned her a smile.

  “As do I,” he reminded Bessie. “Although I’m only renting, so I probably wouldn’t hear about such things.”

  “Margaret lives nearby as well, on the next street, but Joan lives on the other side of Laxey. Elinor lived on the same street as Margaret, but when her son died she sold her home and bought a little flat in that new building on the south side of the village.”

  John nodded. “Any idea how she likes it?” he asked. “I think I’d like to buy a place up here. It looks like I’m going to be stationed here for a while and the rental is great for just crashing, but I’d like something more permanent.”

  What about your wife and kids? Bessie bit her tongue and asked the question silently. “Elinor says she loves it,” she told him instead. “Apparently they have all the modern conveniences as well as a grocery delivery service and covered parking.”

  “Grocery delivery sounds handy,” John said. “Maybe I’ll take a look.”

  “Anyway, I can’t see what’s happening being tied to where the ladies live,” Bessie said, dragging the conversation back to murder. “Not unless it’s like Hugh said and only one victim is specific.”

  John grinned. “Hugh’s been studying all sorts of interesting and unusual cases, and he’s proposed a number of very creative solutions to our latest case.”

  “Agnes’s murder wasn’t random, anyway,” Bessie said. “Assuming it was murder, of course, whoever tampered with her brakes had to know whose car it was.”

  “Which is making us take a long look at possible motives,” John told her. “Thus far, though, we haven’t found anything. That’s why I was asking about a possible grudge against the ladies as a group. The poisoned jam might have been designed to either kill any one of the ladies or, if they gave that particular jar away, make the ladies look bad when someone else died.”

  Bessie frowned. “I can’t imagine anyone hating a harmless bunch of old ladies that much,” she said.

  “You keep calling them harmless, but they seem to have upset and angered a lot of their own families.”

  “Families quarrel,” Bessie said. “Murder goes far beyond that.”

  “Do any of the ladies get along with their children?” the inspector asked.

  Bessie sighed. “Agnes did, but her son died. We talked about that before. The same is true for Elinor. Nancy didn’t have a great relationship with her kids and her daughter doesn’t have very nice things to say about the other ladies, either, but a bit of resentment is a long way from murder.”

  “Hmmm,” John made a note. “What about Joan Carr and Margaret Gelling?”

  “Joan was close to her two children that passed. I’m not sure how close she is to the one in prison, assuming he is still in there. Margaret’s children are both across. I don’t think she sees them.”

  “What about the two jam ladies that died? Any idea how close they were to their children before they passed away?”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” Bessie exclaimed. “I was told that Peggy’s son is on the island at the moment. Apparently he’s staying in one of the cottages down the beach from me. I must try to find out which one and stop and visit him.”

  John made a note. “Was he close to his mother?”

  “Sorry, that was what you asked,” Bessie flushed. “I think they got along quite well. He got transferred with his company, though, and rarely made it back to the island. I think he does something with computers, but I’m not sure. I certainly don’t remember any trouble between him and his mother.”

  “And Elizabeth Porter’s family?”

  “The children were across when she died, but I know she used to visit them once in a while. I think they were as close as they could be under the circumstances,” Bessie replied.

  John nodded. “What about other family on the island? Do any of the ladies have brothers and sisters or cousins around?”

  Bessie shook her head. “I’d really have to think about that one,” she told him. “None of the ladies actually grew up in Laxey. I think that was part of what drew them all together, really. They may have other family around the island somewhere, but the ladies are in their seventies, so I don’t think they’ll be a lot of siblings ar
ound, anyway.”

  “I’d like you to spend some time trying to remember what other family there might be,” John requested. “Maybe you could make a few phone calls and talk to a few old friends. See if anyone knows anything about the ladies that you don’t.”

  Bessie nodded. “I can do that,” she replied. “I want to feel like I’m helping.”

  “Just make sure you limit yourself to phone calls,” John said sternly. “I don’t want you putting yourself in any danger.”

  “I shall be spending some time with the jam ladies,” Bessie said. “I’m sure they’ll have some sort of gathering so that we can all remember Agnes.”

  “I’d love to tell you to stay away from them,” John said with a sigh. “But I know you wouldn’t listen.”

  “You can’t think they’re dangerous?” Bessie demanded.

  John shrugged. “At this point, they’re definitely suspects.”

  “Why on earth would one of the ladies want to kill Nancy or Agnes?” Bessie asked.

  “As we don’t yet have any motive for anyone killing either lady, we have to keep all possibilities open,” he told her.

  “I can’t imagine any of the ladies having anything to do with murder,” Bessie said.

  “I won’t argue with you,” John replied. “But I’m keeping them on my list.”

  Bessie nodded. “I suppose you have to do that.”

  “Anyway, be careful when you’re with them. It looks like someone might be targeting the group and I’d hate to see you get caught in the crossfire, as it were.”

  Bessie sighed. “What a horrible thought,” she said.

  “Let me know if you hear anything from your friends that might help,” John reminded her as he rose to leave. “

  “I definitely will,” she assured him.

  Once he was gone, Bessie set to work calling her friends. She frowned as she flipped through the small address book she kept by the phone. Agnes and Nancy were both still listed in it and she hated to cross out their names. She hated to cross out any names, as it reminded her of the fragility of life.

  By the time Doona returned, Bessie had spoken to nearly everyone she could think of to ask about the jam ladies.

  “No one knows anything,” she complained to Doona.

  “I brought pizza,” Doona told her. “And three bottles of wine.”

  Bessie laughed. “I don’t think we need three bottles, but I could do with a glass of wine after the frustrating afternoon I’ve had.”

  Doona poured the wine while Bessie dug out plates for the pizza.

  “How was your meeting with John?” Doona asked after they’d sat down.

  “It was fine,” Bessie said, staring at her friend. There was something in Doona’s voice that worried her. “We just talked about Agnes and the other jam ladies, although he doesn’t seem to want to really talk to me about it. He just wanted to pick my brains and tap into my connections.”

  “That sounds about right,” Doona said with a sigh. “He’s not talking to anyone about this case. But then, he’s not talking to anyone about anything at the moment.”

  “What does that mean?” Bessie asked.

  Doona sighed and took a big drink of her wine. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “I thought we were all getting to be good friends down at the station. Everyone likes and respects John and we all work hard at working together to provide the best possible service to the public, you know, all that sort of stuff we’re supposed to do.”

  “But?”

  “But lately John’s been a lot less friendly. Ever since Nancy died, he hasn’t been as much fun to be around. I know he got into some trouble with the Chief Constable about including you in interviews during the last case, but as you helped figure it all out and the guilty party gave the police a full confession, John wasn’t given more than a verbal warning. I don’t know if it’s this case that has him really worried, but I almost hate going into work at the moment and that hasn’t happened since Pete Corkill was in charge.”

  “Inspector Corkill isn’t that bad,” Bessie said. “As for John, I’m really sorry if I got him into trouble. I’m not sure what’s bothering him, but I suspect it may not have anything to do with Nancy’s murder.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He mentioned that he’s looking to buy a house or a flat in Laxey,” Bessie told Doona.

  “Yeah, he’s been thinking about that for a while, so?”

  “I don’t know, I just got the feeling he was looking for a place for himself, rather than for a family.”

  Doona flushed. “You think he and Sue are having trouble?”

  Bessie shrugged. “As I’ve never met Sue, I really can’t say.”

  “I’ve never met her either,” Doona said.

  “Really? Doesn’t she ever stop by the station to see John?” Bessie asked.

  “I don’t know if she even knows where Laxey is,” Doona said. “John used to talk about how miserable she was in Ramsey and how badly she wanted to move back to Manchester. He hasn’t mentioned it lately, but maybe that’s because she’s decided to go.”

  “It’s all very sad,” Bessie said. “I would hate to see her go and take the children away from John, but I really hate the idea of him leaving even more.”

  Doona nodded. “I hate the thought of him leaving as well. Even as grumpy and impossible as he is at the moment, he’s still my favourite boss.”

  The women settled in with their pizza and wine, deliberately talking about anything and everything other than the Raspberry Jam Ladies or John Rockwell. With the pizza and the first bottle of wine finished, Doona cleared the table and opened the bakery box she’d brought with her.

  “Double chocolate brownies?” Bessie grinned. “You are feeling down.”

  Doona nodded. “Nothing like wine and chocolate to cheer a person up.”

  Bessie couldn’t argue with that. After the first bite of brownie, she began to feel less miserable about her disappointing afternoon.

  “I can’t believe no one in Laxey knows anything,” she said to Doona as she took a second brownie.

  “Anything about what?” Doona asked.

  Bessie laughed. “You weren’t following my train of thought?” she teased.

  “After half a bottle of wine, I’m not following my own train of thought,” Doona told her with a giggle.

  “No one seems to know anything about the Raspberry Jam Ladies,” Bessie told her. “I mean everyone has heard things about them, there’s tons of skeet, but no one knows anything for certain.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, everyone talks about their relationships with their kids. I was told by more than one source that Jonathan Gelling was abusive and that’s why the kids don’t really keep in touch with Margaret.”

  “Physically abusive?” Doona asked.

  Bessie shrugged. “No one would come right out and say that, but it was definitely hinted at.”

  “Those poor kids.”

  “And poor Margaret. There weren’t a lot of options for battered women in those days,” Bessie said.

  “What else did you learn?” Doona asked.

  “Apparently Agnes had an older brother. They grew up in the south and he moved across before Agnes married. From what my source could tell me, he and Agnes were close when they were young, but the brother was gay and the family cut him out of their lives when they found out.”

  “Poor Agnes,” Doona sighed.

  “I was told that Agnes’s son became friends with his uncle when he moved across and that Agnes got to see him when she visited with Matthew. He passed away last year, though.”

  “So he can’t have murdered Nancy or Agnes, even if he’d had some motive that I can’t begin to imagine.”

  “No,” Bessie agreed. “And that’s another part of the problem. Even when I find out about some relative or other that I didn’t know about, he or she is usually long dead. Agnes’s brother never married or had children, and no one seems to know anything about h
er husband’s family either. He came over to the island in the thirties on some scheme to train up more electricians and just never left. Whatever family he had, though, is probably all in the UK.”

  “Did you learn anything else about anyone else?” Doona asked.

  Bessie shrugged. “The ladies are all pretty private people, really,” she told her friend. “What I’m finding most surprising about all of this is how little people actually do know about them. I’ve known them all for fifty years or so, so I probably know more than most, but it’s all pretty superficial.”

  “What about fights between them? Did Elinor ever flirt with Margaret’s husband or did Peggy steal a pie recipe from Agnes? Anything like that?”

  Bessie shook her head. “You know, that might even be more surprising than the lack of solid information about them all. I didn’t get a single hint that there were ever any arguments between the ladies. When I think back, I can’t remember ever hearing about them not all getting along. Which is strange in itself.”

  “We’ve never had a fight,” Doona pointed out, pouring herself another glass of wine.

  “But there are only two of us and we’re at rather different places in life. This was a group of seven women, all the same age, all bringing up children and dealing with husbands. I would guess that they made a real effort to avoid disagreements or at least to avoid letting anyone else hear about any disagreements. There must have been some.”

  “How did they keep them quiet in a tiny village like Laxey?” Doona asked with a chuckle.

  Bessie had to admit that she had no idea. “I wish I knew. There’s plenty of gossip about me out there and if I knew how to keep it quiet, I would,” she told her friend.

  “People love to gossip,” Doona said with a laugh. “Do you think they’ll be talking about my spending the night here again?”

  Bessie nodded. “Everyone seems to think I’m unwell or something,” she replied. “Either unwell or under house arrest. One person actually said she’d heard I was the chief suspect in Nancy’s death.”

  Doona laughed heartily. “Do you even know how to make jam?” she asked Bessie.