Aunt Bessie Observes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 15)

by Diana Xarissa

  “I don’t know. This is worrying.” The man shrugged. “I’ll talk to the wife in the morning and see what she wants to do. I expect we’ll get a refund on the unused portion of our stay if we leave,” he said to Maggie.

  “There’s no reason for anyone to leave,” Thomas Shimmin said, cutting off Maggie before she could speak. “But if you decide you want to go elsewhere, we’ll work out some sort of partial refund for you. We want our guests to be happy here and if they aren’t, well, we’ll work with you.”

  “Thank you,” the man said. He turned and walked back to his cottage, a few doors away from the end.

  “We can’t start giving everyone refunds,” Maggie said angrily to Thomas.

  “No, we can’t,” he agreed. “But if they go, then we have somewhere to put the people who are meant to be staying in this cottage.”

  Maggie nodded. “Yes, okay, that’s good, but I think giving them a refund is dangerous. What if everyone else decides they want a refund as well?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Thomas told her. “For now, I’m more concerned about what John is finding in that cottage.”

  Bessie had been watching the cottage since John had gone inside. He hadn’t come back out, but after a few minutes several other men had gone in to join him.

  “The door wasn’t locked?” Bessie asked Thomas.

  “It wasn’t locked and someone had rigged it so that it shut, but didn’t latch. All John had to do was push on it lightly and it swung open,” Thomas replied.

  “That doesn’t make sense,” Maggie complained. “Who would do that?”

  “Someone who wanted to use the cottage as a meeting place?” Thomas suggested.

  “Don’t tell me that Mary is showing the cottages behind our backs again,” Maggie demanded.

  “Mary isn’t doing any such thing,” Thomas assured her. He glanced at Janet and Joan. “We use a letting agent that takes care of bookings, but you’ll know that because you booked your cottage through them,” he explained.

  “Yes, I remember,” Janet said. “We talked to a lovely woman called Mary who worked everything out for us.”

  “Yes, Mary is very good at her job,” Thomas agreed.

  “Mostly,” Maggie muttered.

  “Last month she showed one of the cottages to a friend who was looking for a long-term rental,” Thomas told Janet and Joan. “She did ask Maggie if it was okay to do so, but somehow I never got the message and we were quite concerned for a while that someone had broken into one of the cottages.”

  “But she didn’t do anything wrong,” Bessie reminded Maggie, who was still looking cross.

  “Yes, I know,” Maggie sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m not myself tonight.”

  “Maybe we should go back to our cottage for tea,” Joan suggested.

  “I’m sorry, but Inspector Rockwell would prefer it if you all stayed here for just a little bit longer,” Hugh said. “He’s going to have some questions for you in a little while.”

  Bessie glanced at her watch. It was past her normal bedtime and she was starting to feel tired. “Did the shortbread burn?” she asked Joan as she suddenly remembered their planned snack.

  “It’s quite brown, but not quite burned,” Joan replied.

  “And doesn’t it sound wonderful?” Janet asked. “I could really do with a cup of tea and some shortbread right now.”

  “Indeed,” Thomas said. “I think we all could do with a chance to sit down and relax, as well.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hugh told them all. “But it shouldn’t be too much longer now.”

  True to Hugh’s words, only a minute or two later Bessie saw John emerge from the cottage. He spoke to a few people who were standing outside and then crossed back down the beach to Bessie and the others.

  “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” he said. “It’s going to be a long night here, but I’ll try to talk to each of you as quickly as possible so that you can get some rest.”

  “The man is dead, then?” Bessie asked.

  “Oh, yes, he’s definitely dead,” John replied. “And unless I’m mistaken, he was murdered.”

  Janet, Joan, and Maggie all gasped. Bessie didn’t feel at all surprised. She’d suspected as much from the odd position the man had been in on the bed.

  “What happens next?” Thomas asked.

  “I’ll take statements from each of you,” John said. “Our first priority is identifying the man. I’m hoping you and Maggie might be able to help with that. The obvious answer is that he was the man who was meant to be staying in that cottage.”

  “I don’t think he was,” Maggie said. “I only got a quick look at him and he was lying with his head away from me, but the man on the bed looked older and fatter than the man who rented that cottage.”

  “We can sort this out easily enough by seeing if he’s at home,” Thomas suggested. “We moved him to number eight.”

  John nodded and then looked at Hugh. “Can you go and see if anyone is at home at number eight?” he asked.

  Hugh walked away as Janet began to speak.

  “When we arrived, the man from that cottage was complaining about the décor,” she told John. “I’m certain that wasn’t him on the bed.”

  “Thank you,” John said.

  “But I do think that I recognised the man on the bed,” Janet added, causing everyone to stare at her in surprise.

  CHAPTER 3

  “I assume you think he was someone you knew from across,” John said after a moment.

  “Yes, that is, I didn’t get a good look at him, but I still think I recognised him,” Janet replied.

  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense,” Maggie snapped. “Who is he?”

  “A man who was calling himself Julian Snyder,” Janet replied.

  “Really?” Joan said.

  “If it isn’t him, it’s someone who bears a strong resemblance to him,” Janet said. “But that won’t be the name he’s using, I’m sure.”

  “What do you mean by that?” Maggie demanded.

  Janet opened her mouth to reply, but John interrupted. “I think it might be best if we had this conversation elsewhere,” he said, nodding towards the small crowd of onlookers who were slowly gathering on the beach.

  “Where have they all come from?” Maggie asked.

  “Some of them have come from the cottages,” John told her. “The rest may have seen the police cars heading down here and followed. No doubt the press won’t be far behind, and I’m not in the mood to deal with them right now.”

  “We don’t want this in the papers,” Maggie wailed. “It will ruin our business.”

  “It will be fine,” Thomas said, patting Maggie’s arm. “Let’s not worry about our business right now. I’m far more concerned about the poor dead man.”

  “If he’s who I think he is, he doesn’t deserve much sympathy,” Janet said.

  “Let’s take this to your cottage,” John suggested. “I’ll want to speak to each of you individually.”

  Hugh rejoined the group as John finished speaking. “Mr. Peter Wright was tucked up in bed with his wife when I knocked,” he reported. “He gave me an earful about the way that particular cottage was decorated before he went back to bed.”

  “Very good,” John said. “We’re moving over to the Markham cottage now. I’d like you to come with us.”

  “Yes, sir,” Hugh said. He fell into step with Bessie as they all made their way across the beach.

  “Are you okay?” Hugh asked as they walked.

  “I’m fine,” Bessie replied. “Just sad.”

  Hugh put an arm around her and gave her a gentle squeeze. Bessie frowned as she felt tears forming in her eyes at the unexpected and kind gesture. Joan opened the door to the cottage and everyone went inside.

  “I’ll start with Maggie and Thomas,” John said as people settled into seats. “Joan and Janet, I hope you don’t mind if we use one of the bedrooms for interviews?”

  The sisters e
xchanged glances. “No, of course not,” Janet said, clearly reluctantly.

  “Why don’t you take them over to my cottage?” Bessie suggested. “It’s right next door and you can talk to them in the kitchen where you’ll have a table and chairs.”

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” John asked.

  “Of course not,” Bessie replied. “Make yourselves tea and help yourselves to biscuits, as well.”

  John nodded. “I may take you up on that,” he said.

  Bessie handed John her keys and then sat back on one of the small couches and watched as John left with Maggie and Thomas. “This couch isn’t as comfortable as it looks,” she commented.

  “No, I remember that from last year,” Janet said. “But it’s better than standing on the beach.”

  “Yes, it is that,” Bessie agreed.

  “I’m going to put the kettle on,” Joan said. “Once tea is ready, we can see if the shortbread is edible.”

  “Will the inspector want me to have a better look at the body once they’ve moved it?” Janet asked Bessie. “I mean, so that I can see if I’m right about who we’ve found.”

  “I suppose he might,” Bessie told her. “If it is who you think it is, you and Joan might be the only people on the island who can identify him.”

  “I hope I’m wrong,” Janet told her. “Julian Snyder wasn’t a nice man and he didn’t have nice associates.”

  “You wrote to me about him,” Bessie recalled. “He was involved in that charity fundraiser that went wrong, wasn’t he?”

  “Yes, he was one of the two men who came up from London to help plan the event,” Janet replied. “He and Norman Glover stole all of the donations and all of the money raised in the charity auction. Once they were gone, the police discovered that they had been using false names. As far as I know, they haven’t been seen since.”

  “Unless one of them just turned up dead here,” Bessie said.

  “Exactly. But what would they have been doing here?” Janet wondered.

  “Now I’m worried about the fundraiser for Mannanan’s Kids,” Bessie said. “I didn’t hear that the charity had brought in help from outside the island for the event, but that doesn’t mean that they didn’t.”

  “I think you’re getting ahead of things,” Joan said from the kitchen. “Janet has admitted that she didn’t get a very good look at the man on the bed. It’s entirely possible he just bore a passing resemblance to Julian Snyder.”

  “Yes, I suppose so,” Janet said.

  Joan passed around full mugs of tea and then handed everyone small plates with pieces of shortbread on them.

  “This is delicious,” Bessie said after her first bite.

  “It isn’t too bad,” Joan replied. “A little bit more browned than I like, but under the circumstances, I think it will do.”

  “It’s exactly what I needed,” Hugh told her. “I’m not used to working the night shift yet. I get really sleepy by this time of the night.”

  John was back a few minutes later. “I’ll need to speak to each of you individually,” he said. “If I could start with Joan, please?”

  While Joan was gone, Janet passed around more shortbread. “Joan will have to bake more tomorrow,” she said as the tray emptied.

  John returned with Joan and took Janet next. Joan sat down, looking exhausted.

  “You should go to bed,” Bessie said to her friend. “It’s late.”

  “I’m sure Janet will be back soon. Then we can both go to bed,” Joan said. “I’m not sure about Castletown tomorrow morning, though.”

  “Maybe we should worry about tomorrow when it gets here, rather than make any firm plans now,” Bessie suggested. “When I get up, I’ll wander over and see if you two are awake yet or not. Open your curtains when you do get up so that I know, otherwise I’ll just walk past.”

  Joan nodded. “I’m not happy with having to cancel our plans for tomorrow,” she said, yawning. “But I’m too tired to think straight at the moment.”

  “We can still do Castletown,” Bessie said. “But maybe in the afternoon.”

  Joan nodded. “I probably won’t sleep all that late anyway. I tend to wake up early, no matter what time I go to bed.”

  “I’m the same way,” Bessie told her.

  “But Janet can sleep the entire morning away, left to her own devices,” Joan said. “I may have to wake her if it gets too late in the morning.”

  Bessie was going to reply, but she bit her tongue. The last thing she wanted to do was get in between the sisters. By the time John returned with Janet, both Bessie and Hugh were nodding off in their seats. Joan was in the kitchen, doing the washing-up.

  “Come on, then, Bessie, let’s get you home,” John said, offering her his arm.

  Bessie took it and then let the man lead her out into the night. Hugh followed. Once they were outside, Bessie took a deep breath and then looked down the beach. The crowd that had gathered was larger than she’d expected. The last cottage looked even more brightly lit than it probably was, as nearly every other cottage was dark. There were a few lights on in a few of the cottages, and Bessie could see that some of the large sliding patio doors were open behind a few as well. Presumably those guests were part of the large crowd on the beach.

  As they crossed from the Markham sisters’ cottage to Bessie’s, someone broke away from the crowd.

  “Inspector Rockwell, the public have a right to know what’s going on,” Dan Ross, the annoying reporter from the Isle of Man Times shouted as he ran up the beach towards them.

  “No comment,” John said mildly.

  “Is it true that there have been a series of break-ins all along Laxey Beach? Is this just the latest in a string of burglaries that have plagued the police since the spring holiday season began? Is it true that this time the burglars found someone at home and bludgeoned that person to death before stealing everything of value from the cottage?” He opened his mouth to ask another question, but Hugh interrupted.

  “I believe the inspector said ‘no comment,’ didn’t he?” Hugh asked.

  “Yes, but don’t you think the public has a right to know if they are safe in their beds at night?” Dan demanded.

  “There will be a press conference tomorrow morning at ten,” John told him. “I’ll be able to explain what happened here tonight and also answer your questions at that time. For now, you’ll have to excuse me.” He turned and took Bessie’s arm.

  “Aunt Bessie, what’s your part in all of this? Don’t tell me you found another body. This is getting to be a habit of yours, isn’t it? Maybe I should stop worrying about tracking down leads and sources and simply follow you around the island,” Dan said.

  Hugh sucked in a deep breath and then took a step closer to the man. “You stay away from Bessie,” he said in a low and threatening voice. “If I find out you’ve been bothering her, you’ll regret it.”

  “Now, now, Constable, I do believe that threatening a member of the press could get you fired. Inspector, did you hear what your constable just said to me?” Dan asked.

  John looked at him for a moment and then sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said. “What was that?”

  Dan stared at John for a moment and then turned and walked away. John escorted Bessie into the cottage with Hugh on his heels.

  “Next time, keep your voice even lower,” John told Hugh. “I very nearly heard that threat.”

  Hugh flushed. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said.

  John nodded. “Bessie, I hope you don’t mind, but I started a pot of coffee. I’m too tired to get through the night without it.”

  “Of course I don’t mind,” Bessie said. “You could probably do with a midnight snack as well.” A glance at the clock showed her that she wasn’t far off on the timing of her offer. “How about ham and cheese toasties?” she offered.

  Hugh’s eyes lit up. “That sounds wonderful,” he exclaimed.

  “If you don’t mind,” John said. “I’m sure I’ll need the extra energy.” />
  Bessie poured out three cups of coffee and then got to work on the sandwiches. While she was buttering bread, John and Hugh sat down at the kitchen table.

  “So, how was your day?” John asked Bessie.

  Bessie sighed. “It started out just fine, but the last few hours haven’t been very good.”

  “Can you run me through the whole day, starting with what time you got up this morning, please?” John asked.

  Bessie knew John well enough that she’d known the question was coming. Now, as she piled ham and cheese onto the bread and then put the sandwiches into a heated pan, she walked the man through her day. By the time she’d finished, the sandwiches were ready.

  Each man got a sandwich and a half, which left one sandwich for Bessie. She never ate this late at night, but that was mostly because she was always in bed many hours before midnight. Now she took a sip of coffee and then a bite of her sandwich.

  “This is delicious,” Hugh said. “I should do these at home, but I never want to take the time.”

  “They only took about ten minutes,” Bessie pointed out.

  “Yeah, which is about eight minutes longer than just throwing the sandwich together would take,” Hugh replied. “Eight minutes is a long time when you’re hungry.”

  Bessie laughed. “I suppose so.”

  “We still haven’t identified the body,” John said after he’d finished his sandwiches. “If it is Julian Snyder, Janet and Joan may just be our best witnesses.”

  “You don’t think they are in any danger, do you?” Bessie asked.

  “Not at the moment. I may change my opinion once the body has been identified,” John replied. “Janet told me that she sent you a letter about the events in Doveby Dale that involved the man and his accomplice. She suggested that I ask you to show me the letter. Obviously, she did her best to remember everything, but she did point out that the letter was written while things were still fresh in her mind.”

  Bessie nodded. “I was going to ask her if she minded my showing you the letter,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”