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Aunt Bessie Goes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 7)

Page 20

by Diana Xarissa


  Chapter Thirteen

  By the time Bessie got home from her walk the next morning, she was formulating a plan. She’d start by ringing John. He’d have access to police records. While he probably wouldn’t share them with Bessie, there might be a way he could make sure that Doona saw anything that was particularly incriminating.

  Once she’d spoken to John, Bessie had a vast network of nosy friends and neighbours, and she would bet they’d all have something to say about Grant Robertson and his time at the bank. There might not be much more than rumours and innuendo, but Bessie was determined to gather as much of it as she could and share it with Doona.

  Her answering machine message light was blinking when she got home.

  “Bessie, it’s John Rockwell. I’d like to talk to you about some things. Please give me a ring back so we can get together.”

  “Perfect,” Bessie said out loud as she dialled his number. As it was Saturday, he wasn’t at the station, so he offered to come over right away.

  “You’re more than welcome,” Bessie assured him.

  She tidied up her breakfast dishes and put fresh water in the kettle, ready to switch it on when John arrived. He was knocking on her door almost before she expected him.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she told him as she opened the door. “I was going to ring you this morning anyway.”

  “Do you want to go first or shall I?” John asked once he was seated at Bessie’s table.

  “You go first,” Bessie said. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

  “We’ve had the results back from the DNA testing. The body we found at the King’s house is Adam’s.”

  Bessie sat down, feeling suddenly deflated.

  “Are you okay?” John asked, his face full of concern.

  “I’m fine,” Bessie said in a shaky voice. She swallowed hard. “This is silly,” she said. “It isn’t like I wasn’t expecting this. It didn’t make sense for it to be anyone else. I think I just feel sad for Sarah. She’ll be devastated.”

  “I notified her yesterday afternoon,” John told her. “Her brothers were meant to be coming over on the late ferry last night once she told them. They were waiting to come across until we were sure who we’d found.”

  “I hope she keeps Mr. Hiccup,” Bessie muttered. “He’ll be a small comfort in the days, weeks and months to come.”

  “I have one other piece of news,” John continued. “We’re pretty sure we’ve figured out where Mark was staying in Jurby.”

  “That’s interesting,” Bessie said. “Where?”

  “One of the storage units had a mattress with a sleeping bag on it set up in one corner. There was a small microwave in there as well and it appears that it was used quite recently. We think Mark was camping in that unit and using the portable toilets on the construction site at the far end of the facility where they’re building more units.”

  “So did Mark break into the unit?” Bessie asked.

  “There’s no sign of a break-in,” John said. “We’re considering the possibility that the man who was renting the unit knew that Mark was there.”

  “Can you tell me who the unit belongs to?” Bessie asked.

  “I wouldn’t, under normal circumstances, but this case isn’t quite normal.”

  The kettle boiled and Bessie fixed tea as quickly as she could. She dumped biscuits on a plate and dropped it in the centre of the table, handing John a small plate for his selections.

  “So, where were we?” Bessie asked brightly once she’d sat back down and poured the tea.

  “I was about to tell you that the unit Mark was using was Nigel Green’s,” John said.

  “Pardon? The former manager of the building on Seaside Terrace?” Bessie demanded. “But, what does that mean?”

  “We aren’t sure,” John said.

  “What does Nigel say?”

  “Nigel isn’t saying anything,” John told her. “He’s disappeared.”

  “Like Mark before him,” Bessie said, shaking her head. “What’s going on? Who’s behind all of this?”

  “There might not be anyone behind anything,” John told her. “Nigel disappeared about a week ago. That’s why Pete was at the building on Seaside Terrace. He was looking for Nigel, who’s out on bail, obviously.”

  “I take it his mother doesn’t know where he’s gone?” Bessie asked.

  “She says she doesn’t,” John answered. “I got the distinct impression that she wasn’t sorry he’d gone and would be quite happy if he never came back.”

  “After the way he treated her, I’m not sure I blame her,” Bessie said.

  “Anyway, we’re now doing everything we can to track down Nigel. He claimed, when Mark was found at Seaside Terrace, that he didn’t know Mark was hiding there, but this new evidence strongly suggests that he was lying. We’re trying to find a connection between the two that predates Mark’s stay on Seaside Terrace.”

  “You think they might have known each other across?” Bessie asked.

  “We suspect they might have served time together,” John told her. “It’s harder than it should be, tracking back through old prison records, but we know they both spent time in prisons in the north of England.”

  “So maybe Nigel agreed to hide Mark, first at Seaside Terrace and then in his storage unit,” Bessie mused. “But something must have gone wrong.”

  “Yes, and once we find Nigel, we’ll get some answers,” John said. “What did you need to talk to me about?”

  Bessie frowned. “I’m concerned about Grant Robertson,” she said hesitantly. “I don’t like the man, and he seems to be determined to get involved with Doona. It worries me.”

  “Involved with Doona in what way?” John asked.

  “He’s asked her out a couple of times, but last night he offered her a job. He needs a personal assistant, I gather. He’s offered her double her current salary for working just a few hours each day. I don’t like the man at all, but even I can see why Doona would be tempted.”

  “I can as well,” John said. “Unfortunately, I can’t offer her more money, and she’s paid hourly, so if she wants to work less, she’ll make less. I’d like to think the working conditions at the station are pleasant for her, but we do have some very stressful days.”

  “Grant has a reputation for operating very close to the line in terms of what’s legal and what isn’t,” Bessie said. “I don’t want Doona mixed up in anything criminal.”

  “Grant’s been investigated many times,” John told her. “No one has ever been able to prove that he’s done anything illegal, although some of his business practices might not be completely ethical.”

  Bessie nodded. “That’s exactly my point. Doona shouldn’t even be considering working for a man like that.”

  “I didn’t know Doona was unhappy working for me,” John said quietly.

  “I don’t think she is,” Bessie replied. “I think she’s just tempted by all the money and power.”

  “Maybe I’d better have a closer look at Mr. Robertson,” John said.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any way to tie him to Mark’s death?” Bessie asked.

  “Oh, we’re definitely looking into that,” John replied. “He owns the building where Mark was staying at one point and Nigel Green worked for him. Grant even posted Nigel’s bail and is paying for his advocate, although he insists it’s all simply out of loyalty to his staff. We are considering the possibility that Nigel hid Mark on orders from Grant. What we can’t work out is any connection between Grant and Mark before Mark got out of prison.”

  “He was Adam’s best friend,” Bessie mused. “Maybe he met Grant at the bank when he was with Adam.”

  “Anything’s possible. The problem is proving it after thirty years have passed. I’ll be spending a lot of Monday trying to track down some of the men and women who worked at the Laxey branch of the bank over the last thirty years, but it will probably be a complete waste of time.”

  “Maybe not,” Bes
sie said. “I’m going to ring a few people myself.”

  John laughed. “You’ll probably find out more than I will, and faster.”

  They finished the pot of tea and the plate of biscuits without much more conversation. John seemed distracted, and Bessie was eager for him to leave so that she could start ringing her friends. There had to be someone who knew the truth about Grant Robertson. If anyone could tie him to Mark and Adam thirty years earlier, that would be a real bonus.

  Just a few minutes after John left, while Bessie was finishing the washing up, someone knocked on her door. Bessie dried her hands and then pulled open the door. Sarah Combe smiled at her.

  “I hope you don’t mind us just dropping in,” she told Bessie. “We were in the neighbourhod.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Bessie said. “By ‘we’ do you mean you and Mike?”

  “Well, yes, but also James and Fred.” Sarah turned and waved at the car in Bessie’s parking area, and three doors swung open.

  Bessie sighed as the three men walked towards her. “And when did you two get so old?” she asked Sarah’s brothers.

  They both laughed and then gave her hugs.

  “It’s wonderful to see you, Aunt Bessie,” James said.

  He and Fred both looked like typical middle-aged men, and Bessie struggled to find traces of their much younger selves in their grey hair and laugh lines.

  “We’re both glad you were here to help Sarah when mum passed,” Fred told her. “I couldn’t get away.”

  “Neither of us could,” James added. “But this, well, losing Adam feels different somehow.”

  “Although we really lost him thirty years ago, didn’t we?” Fred remarked.

  “Do come in and let me put the kettle on,” Bessie said, stepping back to let everyone into the cottage.

  Bessie directed Mike to the dining room so that he could carry in another chair to add to the small table that seated four comfortably. They’d be a bit cramped, but the kitchen felt warmer and friendlier than the dining room.

  Bessie refilled the kettle and then filled two plates with biscuits and some miniature Bakewell tarts that she’d forgotten she had in the cupboard. The silence was beginning to feel awkward when the kettle boiled and Bessie was able to fix the tea.

  “So, tell me how you’ve both been,” Bessie said once she’d joined them all. “I don’t think I’ve seen either of you since you finished at school.”

  “Busy,” Fred said with a laugh. “I’m in banking. Between work and the kids there isn’t much time for anything else. Although the kids are getting older, so maybe I’ll be able to take up golf again next year.”

  James nodded. “We’re in Cornwall. I work for a London import and export business, but luckily I can work remotely most of the time. My wife is from Cornwall and once we had the children she really wanted to get back there. I go into London a couple of times a month, but otherwise I’m working from home.”

  “That sounds handy,” Bessie said.

  “I enjoy it,” James replied.

  Everyone sipped tea and nibbled politely on biscuits for a moment, while Bessie debated her next question. Finally, she decided to just get on with things.

  “So, what brought you into Laxey today?” she asked.

  “We came to do some clearing out of the house,” James replied.

  “I hadn’t, that is, I’m having a hard time with going in the house,” Sarah said quietly. “I hired someone to clean the kitchen after mum’s death, and I went through and packed up a few pieces of furniture and things, but I really haven’t been back since. The estate agent was meant to be selling it ‘as is,’ with the furniture still in place.”

  “But of course, in light of everything that’s happened, we’ve had to change that,” Fred said.

  “Oh? Are you clearing the house then?” Bessie asked.

  Sarah exchanged glances with her brothers. “We’re having the house emptied and we’re going to do some updating,” she said after a moment. “Mike is going to supervise things so that I don’t have to be there. Obviously, we have to do something with the smallest bedroom. All that water damage needs fixing.”

  Now that the police have removed the body, Bessie thought to herself. “Well, it’s good that you both could get home to help Sarah now,” was what she said out loud.

  “I want to try to get home a lot more often,” Fred said. “I didn’t realise how much I missed the island until I arrived last night.”

  “Me, too,” James said. “I’d really like to holiday here next summer if I can persuade my other half.”

  “Did neither of you ever ask your parents about Adam?” Bessie asked.

  Fred shrugged. “I was across, starting my career. Adam kept threatening to come and stay with me, which I was dead against. I think, when they told me he’d emigrated to Australia, I was just so relieved that he wasn’t coming to stay with me that I didn’t want to know more.”

  “I was still at university,” James said. “Besides, I wasn’t close to mum and dad, or to Adam for that matter.”

  “Do either of you have any idea what might have happened to him?” Bessie asked, feeling as if she was being incredibly nosy, but too curious to stop pushing.

  “I would guess it was some kind of accident,” Fred said. “The police told us that they can’t determine a cause of death, but it must have been an accident.”

  “Dad wasn’t fond of any of us children,” James remarked. “And he really hadn’t wanted any more after Sarah, but I still can’t see him actually killing Adam.”

  “But why hide the body?” Bessie asked.

  “Maybe dad was afraid no one would believe him that it was an accident,” Fred offered. “He probably just panicked when he realised that Adam was dead.”

  He was calm enough to build an entire fake wall to hide the body behind, Bessie thought. Instead of saying that, she asked another question. “Do you think your mother knew about it?”

  “She had to know,” Sarah spoke up. “Dad couldn’t have built the wall without her noticing. Besides, she told me that she and dad took Adam to the airport, when obviously they didn’t. She had to know what happened.”

  “Mum would have done whatever dad told her,” James added. “She was obsessed with him. Looking back now, I can see that they had a rather unhealthy relationship, but that’s beside the point. Whatever happened to Adam, mum would have done exactly what dad said.”

  “Even if your father had killed Adam?” Bessie had to ask.

  “Even then,” Fred replied.

  “What about Mark Carr?” Bessie asked. “Where does he fit into all of this?”

  “What makes you think he does?” Fred asked. “He was Adam’s friend, but that was thirty years ago. I know he’s just turned up dead, but surely it’s more likely he’s dead because of something that happened much more recently?”

  Bessie nodded slowly. “I just wondered if you could imagine any connection between the two deaths,” she told them.

  “As we don’t really know what happened to Adam, it’s impossible to speculate, isn’t it?” Fred said. “I will say that I thought Mark was a bad influence on Adam, but I didn’t really pay that much attention to what Adam did.”

  “Were you surprised when your father gave Adam a job at the bank?” Bessie changed the subject.

  “Very,” Fred said with a frown. “I nagged him every summer to give me a job there while I was at university, but he never would. I remember when Adam rang me and told me he was going to work for dad. I was furious. In fact, I didn’t speak to Adam or dad for several months. I didn’t actually speak to Adam again.”

  “So why would your father have given him the job?” Bessie wondered.

  “Knowing Adam, he blackmailed dad into it,” James said.

  “That’s not fair,” Sarah said softly.

  “It is fair. Adam always got away with a lot more than we did because he was the youngest, but he also had a way of finding things out about people and then
using that information to get what he wanted,” James said.

  “He never did that with me,” Sarah said.

  “Well, he did with me,” James told her. “He found out that I was sneaking out to see, well, a certain young lady friend, and he threatened to tell dad. I had to pay him to keep quiet.”

  “I’m pretty sure he knew something about dad,” Fred said. “Something that dad didn’t want anyone else to know.”

  “I don’t want to hear this,” Sarah said. “Isn’t it bad enough that Adam’s dead and mum and dad hid the body? Can’t we just leave it there? I think Adam died of natural causes and mum and dad just hid the body for some reason. And I don’t want to talk about it any more.”

  Mike put his arm around his wife and rubbed her back gently. “It was all such a long time ago,” he said. “Surely none of it matters now,” he suggested.

  “It matters if it had something to do with Mark’s death,” Bessie replied.

  “Mark was mixed up in all sorts of unsavoury things,” Sarah said. “His friendship with Adam thirty years ago can’t possibly be relevant to his death now.”

  Bessie bit her tongue and then sipped her tea. She didn’t want to argue with Sarah, who was obviously upset.

  “None of us know anything about Mark’s death,” Fred said. “I’m with Sarah on this one, I find it hard to believe that the two deaths are connected. Adam died too long ago.”

  “What might Adam have known about your father that he used against him?” Bessie asked.

  “Dad travelled back and forth to London quite regularly for work,” Fred said. “I think he had a girlfriend there.”

  “He did not,” Sarah said loudly. “I’m sorry, Bessie, but I can’t do this anymore. If you all want to waste more time with wild speculation about our family, you do so. I’ll be walking on the beach.”

  Mike stood up when Sarah did and Bessie opened the back door for them. Sarah marched off quickly, with Mike rushing to keep up.

  “I’m sure this is hard on all of you,” Bessie said to the two brothers when she returned to the table.

  Fred shrugged. “I’m not harbouring any illusions about our parents or Adam,” he told Bessie. “Mum and dad loved each other and neither had much time for us kids. Adam was manipulative and he had his own ideas about what was right and what was wrong.”

 

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