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

by Diana Xarissa

  “If your parents were so much in love, what makes you think your father cheated?”

  “There were lots of little things,” Fred said. “I didn’t really want to know, so I never checked into any of it, but dad wasn’t all that discreet.”

  “I knew he had a woman in London,” James said. “I actually met her once, when I ran into dad with her in a restaurant there one night. I never told mum. She would have been devastated.”

  “You think if Adam found out he would have blackmailed your father about it?” Bessie asked.

  “Absolutely,” Fred said.

  “Definitely,” James agreed. “Dad actually offered me a summer job at the bank if I kept quiet about the other woman, but I wasn’t interested. I’m pretty sure Adam got given his job to keep him quiet.”

  Bessie sat back, her mind racing. Before she could speak, the back door opened.

  “Ah, Bessie? I’m sorry to break up the party, but I think I need to get Sarah home,” Mike said. “She’s pretty upset.”

  “I’m sorry,” Bessie said, aware that her prying questions had been what upset the woman.

  “I know you just want to figure out what’s going on,” Mike said. “But this is her family we’re talking about. Even though she wasn’t close to her parents, she doesn’t like to think of them as criminals. And she was quite close to Adam, so hearing anything negative about him is difficult.”

  Bessie nodded. “I should have been more sensitive,” she said. She and the others got up and walked to the door.

  “She’s waiting in the car,” Mike told them. “She said to tell you that she’d love to see you at Adam’s memorial service on Wednesday, if you can make it.”

  “Of course I’ll be there,” Bessie answered.

  She hugged the brothers. “Thank you for being so honest with me,” she told them. “I hope we can eventually figure out exactly what happened to Adam and to Mark.”

  “We’ll see you on Wednesday,” James said as he left.

  “You will indeed,” Bessie replied.

  Bessie fixed herself some lunch almost automatically, not especially hungry after all the biscuits she’d eaten with her guests. She sat down to eat with her mind racing. Maybe Mike was right, maybe it was all so long ago that it didn’t matter, she thought eventually. It was difficult seeing all these old secrets coming out.

  The ringing of her phone interrupted her thoughts.

  “I was wondering if I could come and bounce some ideas off you tonight,” John said when she’d answered. “I’ll invite Hugh and Doona as well. Between us maybe we can figure something out.”

  “That sounds good,” Bessie agreed. “I’ve just had an interesting chat with Sarah and her brothers and my thoughts are everywhere.”

  “I’ll bring Chinese food and fairy cakes,” John offered. “I’ll get chocolate ones. That’s sure to bring Doona.”

  Bessie laughed and agreed. She spent the afternoon ringing through her network of nosy friends and neighbours. Everyone had heard vague rumours about Grant Robertson over the years, but no one could pin them down to more than that. Bessie rang her advocate last.

  “Doncan, I need to know about Grant Robertson,” she said when his secretary put her through. “He’s offered Doona a job and I don’t trust him.”

  “Bessie, how nice to hear from you,” Doncan said heartily. “We should have lunch one day this week and have a good long chat.”

  “I’d like that,” Bessie replied. “But what can you tell me about Grant Robertson.”

  “I’m afraid there isn’t much I can tell you on that subject,” Doncan said. “He’s a very influential man on this island and he’s involved in a lot of projects. Many of them are charitable and do a lot of good for the island.”

  “I’ve been told he made a lot of his money through somewhat dishonest practices,” Bessie pushed for more information.

  “That would be a police matter,” Doncan replied. “I’ve only met the man once or twice, but I know his advocate and I would be very careful if I were you. Scott Meyers is very protective of his only client’s reputation.”

  Bessie sighed. She’d been hoping Doncan would be more forthcoming, but she ought to have expected him to refuse to tell her anything. That was one of the things that made him such a good advocate; he never talked about anyone. After settling on a date for lunch, she hung up the phone. Maybe her dinner meeting would be more fruitful.

  John was right on time, making two trips to his car to bring in all the food. Hugh was only a few minutes behind him.

  “You timed that just right to get out of carrying anything,” John teased him.

  “I was parked up the road watching,” Hugh joked.

  “Is Doona coming?” Bessie asked.

  “She wasn’t sure,” John said. “She said she had a lot to do tonight.”

  Bessie frowned. Maybe she should ring Doona and find out exactly what was more important than their meeting, she thought to herself. She was saved from making the call by a knock on the door.

  “Doona, so glad you could make it,” she said to her friend as she ushered her in.

  “I can’t stay long,” Doona said. “But John said he was bringing fairy cakes.”

  “I did,” John told her. “Lots of them.”

  Doona smiled for a moment, but Bessie could see that she wasn’t her usual cheery self.

  “Are you okay?” she whispered to Doona as the men began fixing their plates.

  “Yeah, just a bit, well, distracted by everything that’s going on,” Doona told her. “Grant sent me five dozen roses this morning, with a note from his business manager detailing an incredibly generous job offer. I’m not sure what to do.”

  “Put it out of your mind for a few hours and focus on the case at hand,” Bessie suggested. “Or focus on the lovely food and the fairy cakes.”

  Doona chuckled. “I’ll try,” she said.

  The foursome ate quickly, with Hugh getting through three plates of food to everyone else’s single helping.

  “How’s Grace?” Bessie asked after he’d sat back down with his third helping.

  “She’s great,” Hugh said, his eyes shining. “December seems a long way off, but I want to make the proposal special and I keep thinking that doing it on Christmas, in front of her family, will be the best way to do it.”

  “It’s romantic,” Bessie said. “But I think Grace will just be happy to be asked, whenever you get around to doing it.”

  Hugh nodded. “I know, but I only plan on doing this once in my life, so I want it to be memorable.”

  Doona sighed. “Neither of my proposals were memorable, which is probably for the best, since I don’t especially want to remember either of them.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “How did you propose?” Bessie asked John.

  He flushed. “Actually, Sue proposed to me,” he said. “Did Sarah’s brothers have anything interesting to say?”

  Well, that’s changed the subject, Bessie thought. “They said they thought that Adam got the job at the bank by blackmailing their father into it,” she replied.

  “They said something similar to me, although they didn’t seem to have any idea what Adam might have blackmailed their father about,” John told her.

  “He was having an affair,” Bessie said. “Apparently he had a girlfriend in London that Nancy didn’t know about.”

  “Poor Nancy,” Doona said. “And how sad that her children knew and didn’t tell her.”

  “I think she was happier not knowing,” Bessie said. “She was madly in love with Frederick. Finding out that he was cheating would have been very hard on her.”

  “I’d still rather know,” Doona said.

  “Couples didn’t often get divorced in those days,” Bessie pointed out. “In the fifties and sixties you expected to be married for life. If your husband cheated, you cried or got angry, but you stayed. Maybe she did know, but turned a blind eye to it. At least he didn’t have a girlfriend here on the island.�
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  “Does that make it more likely that Frederick killed Adam, then?” Hugh asked.

  “I don’t know,” Bessie said thoughtfully. “Blackmail is such a dangerous undertaking. I find it hard to think of Frederick as a killer, but then I barely knew the man, and they say everyone is capable of murder under pressure.”

  “We’re still going through the evidence, but so far there’s nothing that we’ve taken from behind that wall that suggests that anyone other than Frederick and Nancy were involved in hiding the body,” John said.

  “But what about Mark?” Bessie asked.

  “We’re looking very hard for Nigel Green,” John replied.

  “Why would Nigel put Mark’s body in Mary Quayle’s storage unit?” Bessie asked.

  “That’s one of the first questions I have for Nigel,” John answered. “It’s possible he didn’t know who the unit belonged to and he just wanted to get rid of the body.”

  “So what possible scenarios are there for the two deaths being connected?” Bessie asked.

  “We are looking into events from thirty years ago,” John told her. “But as most of the key players are deceased, it’s proving quite difficult.”

  “I can’t help but think that it’s tied to Adam’s job,” Bessie mused. “Like he saw or heard something at the bank that he shouldn’t have.”

  “You’re trying to pin something on Grant,” Doona said. “He was only a junior manager back then and he didn’t even know Adam.”

  “He knew Adam well enough for Adam to complain about him to his sister,” Bessie countered.

  Doona opened her mouth, but Bessie held up a hand.

  “I’ll admit that I don’t like the man and I don’t trust him, but you have to agree that he’s a connection between the two dead men. He worked with Adam, and Mark was hiding in a building that he owns. Nigel worked for Grant; if Grant asked Nigel to hide Mark, he would have done it.”

  “Or Mark and Nigel might have become friends in prison and Nigel agreed to help him out, or any other of a dozen things,” Doona argued. “I think you’re looking for some thirty-year-old conspiracy that simply doesn’t exist.”

  “It must be time for the fairy cakes,” Hugh said loudly.

  Bessie blinked and looked at him, the words taking a moment to sink in. Then she laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said to Doona. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

  Doona nodded. “I know, I’m just a bit, well, things are just weird right now.”

  “I’ll get the bakery box,” Hugh offered.

  Bessie laughed. “Go ahead,” she told the man.

  Hugh put the box in the centre of the table. Inside were a dozen fairy cakes in several different flavours.

  “I get chocolate,” Doona announced as Bessie passed around small plates for everyone.

  “Me, too,” Bessie said. “Although those white ones are really pretty.”

  No one spoke while the sweet treats were being eaten. Doona and John both had a second cake, while Hugh managed three. Bessie felt stuffed after her single one.

  “Those were wonderful,” Doona said, wiping icing off her fingers.

  “They came from that little bakery in Ramsey,” John told her.

  “I was thinking while I was eating,” Doona said. “There’s another person that connects Adam and Mark. What if George Quayle is the one who’s involved in both deaths?”

  Bessie frowned. “I like George,” she said. “And I really like Mary. I hope he isn’t mixed up in all of this.”

  “But he used to work at the bank with Adam, just like Grant did,” Doona persisted. “And he is partners with Grant on the property on Seaside Terrace. Not only that, Mark’s body was found in George’s storage unit.”

  “And that’s the one thing that makes me think it wasn’t George,” Bessie said. “Surely he’d be smart enough to hide the body somewhere other than his own storage unit.”

  “Maybe he planned to move it, but he didn’t get time,” Hugh suggested.

  “Both men are being looked at,” John said quietly. “But that fact isn’t to leave this room. They are both very wealthy and influential people who have a lot of friends in very high places.”

  “Which doesn’t mean they should get away with murder,” Bessie said.

  “No, but it does mean they can afford the very best in legal representation. We have to be sure, if we go after one or both of them, that our case is very strong.”

  “Are you going after one or both of them?” Doona asked.

  “At the moment, we’re still investigating a number of leads,” John said. He shook his head. “At least that’s the official line. In truth, Adam’s death is pretty much a dead end, if you’ll pardon the unintentional pun there. And with Nigel missing, we’re struggling to figure out Mark’s murder as well.”

  “Is Nigel your number one suspect?” Bessie asked.

  “He has to be at this point,” John told her. “We’re certain that Mark was staying in his storage unit and the wardrobe that the body was found in has been identified by his mother as one of her old furniture pieces. Apparently Nigel told her that he sold all of her belongings, but instead he put them in storage in Jurby.”

  Bessie sat for a moment, thinking hard. “I don’t know what I can do to help,” she said eventually. “None of my sources here in Laxey will know anything about Nigel. Someone has to be hiding him, but who?”

  “We’re considering the possibility that he’s left the island,” John said. “At this point, that actually seems like the most likely scenario.”

  Bessie shook her head. “This is very frustrating,” she said.

  “If he’s gone back across, he’ll turn up eventually,” John told her. “He won’t be good at keeping himself out of trouble.”

  Bessie nodded. “So what do we do now?” she asked.

  “Talk to people. See if anyone can remember any more about Adam or Mark. I’m going to look into the woman in London who was involved with Frederick King. I can’t imagine there’s anything there, especially after all this time, but it’s worth checking, or at least that’s what I’m telling myself, as I’m rather out of leads.”

  “Let’s have lunch tomorrow,” Bessie suggested to Doona as her guests prepared to leave.

  “I’m not sure,” Doona said. “I’ll ring you.”

  She was gone before Bessie could argue.

  “I didn’t want to upset Doona,” John told her at the door. “But I’m looking very closely at Mr. Robertson. I don’t trust the man and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s mixed up in this somewhere.”

  Bessie frowned as she shut the door behind John and Hugh. She needed to do something to get Doona away from Grant. She looked at the clock. It was too late to ring anyone tonight, but tomorrow she was going to talk the person she should have rung first.

  Chapter Fourteen

  A rainy morning meant a shorter than normal walk for Bessie the next day. She’d showered, dressed and eaten cereal with milk before she left, but she felt chilled all the way through by the time she got back to her cottage. She made herself another pot of tea and slid bread into her toaster. Her second breakfast made her feel better before she grabbed her phone.

  “Mary, it’s Bessie. I was wondering if you have time to get together today?” she said when her call was connected.

  “I’d love to,” Mary said. “But the decorators are here. George is having a couple of rooms redone yet again. I have to be here so he can ask my opinion on carpets and drapes and furniture, even though he won’t really listen to what I say.”

  Bessie chuckled. “I’m sure it isn’t that bad,” she said.

  “No, I suppose not,” Mary laughed. “Anyway, since I’m stuck in, why don’t you come here? I’ll send a car for you in about an hour and you can stay and have lunch with me. I’m sure George will have an appointment somewhere or something.”

  “I didn’t ring to invite myself over,” Bessie said.

  “No, but you’re more than welcome. You can
even give George your thoughts on the various shades of cream he’ll be considering for the walls.”

  Bessie laughed. “If you’re sure, I would really like to talk to you today.”

  “I’m sure,” Mary said firmly. “I’ll send a car.”

  Bessie changed into somewhat nicer clothes, conscious that Mary was always immaculately dressed. She dusted some powder across her nose and gave her lips a coat of lipstick. Mary also always had perfect makeup, but Bessie wasn’t about to do more than that. She ran a comb through her hair, grateful that it was short enough that the rain hadn’t bothered the style.

  It seemed only a few minutes later that someone knocked on her door. She opened it to the same driver she remembered from previous visits to the Quayle mansion.

  “How are you this morning, ma’am?” he asked politely.

  “I’m fine,” Bessie said. “How are you?”

  “I’m very well, thank you.”

  Bessie chatted with the man all the way to Mary’s door. They talked about the weather, local restaurants and European politics.

  “Thank you for the ride,” Bessie told him as he helped her out of the car.

  “It’s always a pleasure to drive you,” he replied.

  Mary must have been watching for the car, because she was already rushing down the front steps to join them.

  “Ah, Bessie, there you are,” she said, taking Bessie’s arm. “Come in and see what a mess we have going on.”

  They made their way up the steps and into the foyer. “They’re working in the east wing,” Mary told Bessie. “I promised George I would come and check on things as soon as you arrived.”

  They walked down a long corridor into a section of the house that Bessie was sure she’d not seen before. Halfway down another hall, Mary stopped and opened a door.

  The room they entered had breathtaking views over the sea. It was empty, with bare floors and walls, and George was standing in the middle of it waving his arms around and yelling.