“…relaxing, peaceful and quiet,” he shouted. “That’s what this space is all about.”
“Yes, sir, Mr. Quayle, I quite understand,” the young woman with him replied. “But I still think one red accent wall would be really spectacular.”
“It would clash with the views,” George disagreed. “Perhaps I need to speak with someone else from your firm. Someone who will better understand what I’m after.”
“Oh, no, sir, that’s not necessary,” the girl said, her face flushed. “I’m sure we can reach some sort of common ground. No red wall, that’s fine, of course it is.” She wrote something on the pile of papers that were attached to the clipboard she carried. “What about red for the furniture?” she asked.
George sighed deeply and looked over at Mary. “Ah, my lovely wife,” he said. “Mary, you see if you can talk some sense into her, will you? I’ll show Bessie what else is going on.”
Mary frowned, but let go of Bessie’s arm and walked over to the young woman. George crossed to Bessie and led her out of the room.
“If I stay in there, I think I might throttle that woman,” he told Bessie. “She’s determined to put something red in there and she just won’t listen to reason.”
“If you’re paying for it all, surely she has to listen,” Bessie said.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” George asked. “But she’ll tell you that she has these wonderful visions for the space and as she’s the professional, I should just give her the money and let her do what she likes.”
“I think red is all wrong for that room,” Bessie told him. “You have gorgeous views of the sea and sand. Why on earth would you want to compete with that?”
“Exactly,” George shouted. “Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Mary and I both need the distraction.”
George took her through several other rooms that were empty of furnishings. “We had all the carpets taken up last week, so we’re ready to redecorate,” he told Bessie. “Now we just have to agree on what we want to do with the rooms.”
“But what are they all for?” Bessie asked.
“Oh, this is our suite, Mary’s and mine. The bedroom is at the end of the hall. We aren’t redoing that this time. The other rooms are our private reception rooms, dining room, that sort of thing.”
“Of course,” Bessie murmured, wondering what it would be like to have so much space just for herself. Of course, Mary had to share it all with George, which was something Bessie couldn’t imagine doing.
They met Mary back at the first room. The young woman was red-faced and apologetic.
“I totally understand what you’re after now,” she told George. “Let me go back to the office and draw up some new designs. I’ll be back tomorrow, if that suits you?”
“That’s fine,” George said. “Come after lunch.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, nearly running out of the room.
“I do hope that’s settled,” George told Mary. “I so hate shouting at them.”
“It’s definitely settled,” Mary said. “If these plans don’t work, I’m firing her.”
Bessie was startled by the determination with which Mary spoke. It seemed her shy and quiet friend had a steel core after all.
“Since you won’t need us anymore, Bessie and I will be taking a stroll around the gardens,” Mary told George.
“Yes, dear,” George said quietly.
Mary took Bessie’s arm and led her out of the room. They hadn’t gone far when Mary began to laugh. “That was fun,” she told Bessie. “George sometimes gets intimidated by designers and the like. If it were left up to him, we’d have a red wall and red couches in that room for sure.”
She swept through the house, taking Bessie out through the large French doors into the garden. It had stopped raining and the sun was doing its best to burn away the clouds.
“Let’s walk through the maze,” Mary suggested.
“You have a maze?” Bessie asked.
“Oh, yes,” Mary answered. “It’s modelled on the one at Hampton Court Palace, but with enough little changes to make it tricky, even if you’ve been through that one.”
“I do hope you know the way through,” Bessie said.
“I do,” Mary assured her. “But I’ll let you lead. You can see if you can figure it out.”
Half an hour later Bessie was feeling totally lost when they turned a corner and found themselves in the centre of the maze. There was a small gazebo there and Mary and Bessie sat down opposite one another within the shelter.
“What did you want to talk to me about?” Mary asked.
“Grant Robertson,” Bessie replied.
Mary made a face. “Must we?”
“He’s trying to get Doona to come and work for him,” Bessie told her. “I don’t trust him, but he’s offered Doona a lot of money and she’s tempted.”
“What sort of job?” Mary asked.
“Apparently he needs a personal assistant,” Bessie replied.
“Really? That’s interesting,” Mary said. “You know I don’t like him, but I’m very suspicious of his motive on this. Last I knew, he had two full-time assistants working for him. Why would he need a third?”
“Maybe one of them quit?”
“Or maybe he’s after something else from Doona.”
“He has asked her out several times,” Bessie said. “Maybe he thinks he can get her to go out with him if he hires her.”
Mary shrugged. “That could be it, although as far as I can tell, he’s never short of female company.”
“So what do you think he’s after?”
“With Grant, it’s impossible to say,” Mary said. “Maybe he’s trying to hurt John by taking Doona from him. Everyone knows that the two are close friends.”
“Why would he want to hurt John?”
“John’s investigating him,” Mary said. “Oh, Grant isn’t supposed to know about it, but the Chief Constable had a quiet word with both Grant and George. Obviously George has nothing to hide, but Grant, well, I think he probably has a lot to hide.”
“Why would the Chief Constable tell Grant that?” Bessie demanded.
“Because Grant has the governor’s ear,” Mary told her. “And he owns several members of the House of Keys as well.”
“Owns them?”
Mary laughed harshly. “Perhaps he only rents them,” she said. “But you mustn’t underestimate his power on the island. John needs to tread very carefully if he’s determined to investigate Grant.”
“Do you have any suggestions as to where John should be looking?” Bessie asked.
Mary shook her head. “As far as I can tell, Grant’s been careful. Everyone thinks he’s dishonest, but no one seems to be able to prove anything.”
Bessie sighed. “But what about….”
She was interrupted by a loud buzzing noise.
“My mobile,” Mary murmured. She patted her pockets until she found the phone and answered it. The conversation was a short one.
“Lunch is ready on the south terrace,” Mary told Bessie once she’d disconnected.
“That sounds very fancy,” Bessie replied.
“I just hope it tastes good,” Mary answered.
Since they didn’t want to make anyone wait, Bessie let Mary lead her out of the maze. The walk back to the house only took a few minutes. On the south terrace, a table was set for four.
As Mary and Bessie approached, the door to the house opened and George walked out.
“I hope you ladies don’t mind some company for lunch,” he said. “Grant and I are getting quite bored with each other.”
Mary smiled brightly at her husband. “How delightful,” she said. She gave Bessie a look that let Bessie know how unhappy she was with this turn of events.
“Yes, delightful,” Bessie echoed her friend.
Grant emerged from the house carrying a bottle of champagne. “There you two are,” he said. “Time for some bubbly.”
“Champagne for lunch?” Mary asked
. “What are we celebrating?”
“I’m taking a short trip,” Grant answered her. “So this is a going away party of sorts.”
“Where are you going?” Bessie asked.
“I’m not totally sure yet,” Grant said. “Wherever the spirit moves me, I suppose.”
“So it’s a holiday,” Mary suggested.
“Or something like one,” Grant said with a shrug. He poured champagne into four glasses, insisting that everyone take one.
The conversation at lunch felt stilted to Bessie. Grant seemed tense and nervous, but perhaps he was just excited about his holiday. George kept asking him questions about various business issues that Bessie knew nothing about. Grant’s answers all seemed vague and unhelpful to Bessie, but perhaps she simply didn’t understand.
“I’m sorry,” Mary whispered as they started on the main course. “I didn’t know Grant was going to be here.”
“It’s fine,” Bessie said, politely untruthful. “We can talk after lunch.”
“Definitely,” Mary said, patting Bessie’s hand.
“So, do you think Doona will miss me?” Grant asked suddenly.
“I suppose we’ll all miss you,” Bessie said, meeting Grant’s eyes with false bravado.
Grant laughed. “You’ll be glad to see me go,” he said. “But we need to have a quick chat after lunch, you and I. I have some things I want to tell you.”
Bessie frowned. “Why not tell me now?” she asked. “I really need to get home after lunch.”
“Oh, no, we need to talk privately,” Grant said. “I’m sure you can spare a few minutes for me. We can skip pudding if you’re really in a hurry.”
Bessie flushed. She wasn’t in a hurry, she simply didn’t want to talk to Grant. But there was no way she was missing pudding for him.
“I suppose, if you keep it short, I can find the time,” she muttered.
“Excellent,” Grant said, smiling broadly. He then launched into a long story about some of his previous travels that took them through the rest of the meal.
“Your chef is wonderful,” Bessie said as she scraped up the last of her Eve’s pudding.
“She’s very good,” Mary agreed. “And she did a great job today.”
Bessie pushed back her chair. “I’ll just freshen up, if I may?”
Mary showed her to the closest loo where Bessie washed sticky custard off her fingers and touched up her lipstick.
“I don’t want to talk to Grant,” she told her reflection.
“Be brave,” her reflection said firmly. “Whatever he says, he’s going away soon and you won’t have to see him again for a while.”
Bessie stuck her tongue out at herself and then sighed. She grabbed her bag and walked back outside. Grant was standing on the terrace, looking out towards the sea.
“Ah, there you are Bessie. Let’s have a short stroll, shall we?”
He offered Bessie his arm and she took it, trying to hide her reluctance. There was a path that ran from the terrace to the edge of the cliff that overlooked the sea below. They walked along slowly. Grant paused near where workmen had been installing the stairs to the beach below. The stairs were in place, but no handrail had been installed yet, and the top of the stairs was blocked off by a small amount of fencing.
“There’s something about you that invites confidences,” Grant told Bessie as they both watched the waves. “I feel the need to tell someone a few important things and you seem like the best candidate.”
“There are professionals who are better qualified….” Bessie began.
Grant held up a hand. “I don’t need a professional,” he said. “And I don’t want the police either, although I was tempted to share a few things with the Chief Constable. He thinks we’re good friends, so much so that he tells me things he really shouldn’t. It would have been fun watching his face as I told him a couple of interesting facts about my past.”
“If you’re going to confess to crimes, you should definitely be talking to the police,” Bessie said, taking a step backwards.
Grant laughed. “I hope you don’t think I’m going push you over the edge,” he said mockingly. “I could, I suppose, but I don’t intend to. I’m rather counting on you to tell people what I’m going to tell you. I may be getting soft in my old age, but I do think the King family ought to know what really happened.”
“You know what happened to Adam?” Bessie asked.
“I do, and no doubt the family will be relieved to learn that it was just an unfortunate accident that took young Adam’s life.”
Bessie nodded. “I’m sure that will make Sarah feel much better,” she said.
“Perhaps she’d be less pleased to hear all of the details, but I’ll leave it up to you as to how much you tell her,” Grant said.
“I don’t need to know,” Bessie insisted.
“I went to work for the bank right out of school,” Grant said, staring out towards the sea. “I wasn’t there for very long when I realised that a small but steady amount of money was disappearing from the Laxey branch, under the supposedly capable management of Frederick King.”
Bessie gasped. Grant glanced at her and chuckled. “You didn’t see that coming?” he asked.
“No,” Bessie replied.
“I did some investigating and I discovered that Frederick had a rather expensive habit. Her name was Elizabeth and she had a real fondness for rubies. Frederick was very carefully and cleverly siphoning off just a little bit of money from various accounts at the bank in order to buy costly trinkets for his lover.”
“Poor Nancy,” Bessie murmured.
Grant laughed. “Exactly. I didn’t want to break up Nancy’s happy home, now did I? Instead I had a little chat with Frederick and we worked together to find a way to make sure that we both profited from his little scheme. I was able to scale it up and use it at all the branches eventually, as well. As I said, it was a very clever system.”
“But where does Adam fit into all of this?” Bessie asked.
Grant chuckled. “Adam found out about Elizabeth, you see, and he blackmailed his father into giving him a job at the bank. Adam was a very smart young man. It didn’t take him long to figure out what his father was doing, and of course that meant that he wanted a share of the money. I kept out of their arrangement, figuring it wasn’t any of my business, until Adam dragged me in.”
Of course, it was going to be Adam’s fault, Bessie thought to herself. Grant seemed like the type to blame everything on other people.
“Adam realised what his father was doing, and then he dug a little deeper and discovered that I’d extended the enterprise to the other branches. Adam was prepared to keep quiet, of course, for a price.”
Grant shook his head. “He could have had a very successful career, that boy. He was very smart, but mostly lazy. Always looking for shortcuts and ways to make money fast. We met at the Kings’ home that night in September 1967. Adam made ridiculous demands and I laughed and made a counter offer. He swung first, but I hit him hard. I’ll admit I was angry, but I didn’t mean to kill him. He hit his head on something when he fell and died instantly.”
Bessie shuddered. Grant was talking calmly, as if he were discussing the weather or something, but she couldn’t help but picture the angry scene and poor Adam crashing to the ground.
“It was very sad, of course,” Grant said in a bored tone. “We discussed ringing the police, but that was risky. We didn’t want anyone looking into reasons why I might have been fighting with young Adam. It was easier to just hide the body and move on. I have to say, it worked far better than I ever expected it to. For years I was sure we were going to get found out.”
“So Frederick and Nancy hid the body?” Bessie asked.
“Frederick did the dirty work,” Grant said. “Nancy knew all about it, of course, but she only knew part of the story. Obviously, she didn’t realise just how much money her husband was stealing or else she would have wanted to know what he was doing with it all.”
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“So they packed his bags and told everyone he emigrated to Australia,” Bessie said. “And no one ever questioned it.”
“Oh, Mark Carr questioned it,” Grant told her. “In fact, he very nearly discovered the truth. He was waiting for Adam at the pub and he walked over to the house to see what was keeping Adam just minutes after, well, after the unfortunate accident.”
“So Mark was involved,” Bessie said.
“Yeah, he knew we were lying about something, but he wasn’t sure exactly what. Frederick told him that Adam had left and that he didn’t know where he’d gone and then, a few days later, they started telling everyone about Australia, but Mark never believed it.”
“But then Mark moved across and got sent to prison,” Bessie said.
“That was some very clever planning on my part, though I say so myself,” Grant said with a smug grin. “I pretended to take an interest in Mark and offered to help him out. I sent him across, having found him a job at a bank over there. I showed him how to set up a scheme very similar to the one we were using in Laxey. Then I set him up with the police. Poor Mark never knew how he got caught, but that got rid of that particular threat, for a while anyway.”
“I’m surprised he didn’t tell the police everything when he was arrested,” Bessie said.
“He couldn’t actually prove anything, and besides, he still thought I was on his side,” Grant explained. “I paid for his high-priced solicitor and made sure he was supplied with money and cigarettes and that sort of thing. If he’d been careful, he’d have been out after a few years and I would have given him another job to do. Instead, every time he got out for a few days, he just got himself into trouble and sent back to prison. I was starting to relax, lately. I figured he’d just be in prison forever.”
“And then, when he finally did get out, you put him up in the flat on Seaside Terrace,” Bessie said.
Grant chuckled. “Not one of my better ideas,” he said. “First he got into a fight with Nigel about the flat. I didn’t realise that Nigel was using it for his mother. Then he managed to pass out and get discovered and taken to hospital.” Grant sighed. “I should have just sent him to Australia or something,” he said.
“Where did he go when he left Noble’s?” Bessie asked.
Aunt Bessie Goes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 7) Page 22