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

by Diana Xarissa

  “She’s pretty and she looks really nice,” Janet said.

  “She is really nice and she’s wonderful at following orders, but she’s not great at generating creative ideas,” Bessie said.

  “Who is that?” Janet hissed as a stunning blonde woman in a tight black dress and incredibly high heels strode into the room.

  “That’s Jacqueline Garrett,” Bessie told her. “She’s sixty-something, although she’s had so much plastic surgery that you might not believe me.”

  “She’s sixty-something?” Janet repeated. “I would have guessed her age at under forty.”

  “That’s because she’s on the other side of the room,” Bessie said. “Up close, she doesn’t look that good.”

  “Well, she looks gorgeous from here,” Janet said. “I would never have the nerve to wear that dress, not at any age.”

  “It’s inappropriate,” Joan said. “No matter what her age, it’s not appropriate for a business luncheon.”

  Bessie couldn’t argue. Jacqueline looked as if she had just stopped in on her way to a cocktail party or something. Across the room, the woman was greeting Agnes with air kisses. As she slid into a seat, three men walked in together.

  “They look rich, all of them,” Janet commented.

  “From left to right,” Bessie began, “Trevor Kelly has been on the board for Mannanan’s Kids since it was founded. He and Agnes went to primary school together, which makes him somewhere in his sixties. He’s retired after a long career in banking.”

  “He’s the bald one, right?” Janet asked.

  “Yes, and he wouldn’t mind being described that way. He’s very nice, in spite of his money and his wife,” Bessie replied.

  “What’s wrong with his wife?” Janet was quick to ask.

  “She’s just a bit of a snob,” Bessie explained. “She was Katie when she was growing up in Laxey, but she insists on being called Kathryn now. She travels a great deal, on her own or with Trevor. I don’t think she really likes the island.”

  “Oh dear, why ever not?” Joan exclaimed.

  “As I understand it, she loves big cities and is happiest of all in London. Trevor has a flat there and that’s where she spends most of her time.”

  “What about the taller man in the centre?” Janet asked. “With all that dark hair, he looks like a politician.”

  Bessie laughed. “He isn’t, although he is the type, and he might still try to get elected for something, one day. He’s Scott Linehan and he spent his career working his way up in the banking industry. When some bank opened a branch on the island, I forget which one, he came over as managing director. He’s been here ever since, although I understand he’s partially retired now and has been since he was fifty.”

  “Retired at fifty? That’s impressive,” Janet said.

  “I believe he made many wise investments over the years,” Bessie said. “He has property all over the UK that he rents out, and apparently he owns a great deal of stock in the bank that used to employ him. I gather he now works as a consultant for small companies looking for help getting started. He helps them in return for a share in the company and I understand he’s making quite a lot of money doing so.”

  “What’s his wife like?” Joan wanted to know.

  “He’s single,” Bessie told her. “Although he’s usually in the company of a beautiful blonde. I don’t know where he finds them, but I’ve never seen the same one with him twice, although sometimes I’ve had to look again to be sure, as they are all very much of a type.”

  “What about the short man with the grey hair?” Janet asked.

  “Anthony Roth,” Bessie told her. “He’s in his seventies. While he used to have a finger in nearly every pie on the island, he’s cut back significantly in the last ten years or so. He’s incredibly wealthy, although I understand that he’s given a great deal of his wealth to charity since his wife passed away about five years back. He has three children, but he’s never been one to spoil them. They’ve all had jobs since they left university and they’ve all done very well for themselves. None of them live on the island, unfortunately.”

  “That just leaves the tiny grey-haired woman who just arrived,” Joan said. “Who is she?”

  “That’s my friend, Mary Quayle,” Bessie said. “But I didn’t know she was involved in Mannanan’s Kids.”

  Bessie waved to her friend, who quickly walked over to her table.

  “Bessie, how lovely to see you,” she said, as Bessie stood up to give her a hug.

  After Bessie performed the necessary introductions, she had to ask Mary why she was there. “Are you helping Agnes with the charity auction on Thursday?”

  Mary nodded. “After Christmas at the Castle I kept in touch with Agnes. When she told me about this event, I offered to help. She has a wonderful committee full of eager volunteers, but there’s always room for one more, isn’t there?”

  Bessie nodded. She knew from her own experience at Christmas at the Castle, a fundraiser for Manx National Heritage that she’d also been involved with, that many volunteers were more interested in being seen to be helping than in actually doing the work that such events required. Mary was very wealthy, but she was also a hard worker who never complained, no matter what job she was asked to perform. Agnes was lucky to have her on the committee.

  “My friends and I have also offered to help,” Bessie said. “Just in case there are any last-minute things that need doing.”

  “I’d like to think that we have everything well in hand, but I’m probably wrong,” Mary told her. “But I’d better go and join the committee. At least I’m not last. Nathan isn’t here yet.”

  Bessie nodded and then watched her friend walk away. Their waiter arrived to take their food order before she could speak.

  “I thought about asking if I could keep the menu, just in case I need to hide,” Janet said as the man walked away a moment later. “But it seems to me that if Nathan was coming, he’d be here already.”

  A glance at the clock showed that it was already twenty past twelve. It did seem unlikely that the man was coming.

  As the sisters were facing the wrong way, Bessie spent much of lunch telling them what was happening at the centre table. Agnes seemed to spend much of the time talking to the others and Bessie guessed, when she saw the shocked and angry look on Mary’s face, that Agnes was telling them what she’d learned about the two men who were meant to be helping plan their event. Beyond that, Bessie could only imagine what the group was talking about, but everyone looked concerned as Bessie and her friends ate their puddings. They dawdled over coffee as Agnes and her committee ate their meals.

  Scott was on his feet almost as soon as he’d eaten his last bite. He was followed out the door by Anthony and Jacqueline, who left together. Trevor stayed behind long enough to pat Agnes’s hand and whisper something to her before he followed the others out. Nicola looked apologetic as she dashed away a moment later. That left Agnes and Mary on their own together. Bessie was tempted to join them, but before she could move, Pete got to his feet and crossed to Agnes. After a few minutes of conversation, he came over to Bessie and the sisters.

  “Obviously, Nathan missed the meeting,” Pete said after Bessie had introduced him to the other women. “Agnes has sent him several texts, but he hasn’t replied.”

  “I hope he’s okay,” Bessie said.

  “I suspect he’s either hiding because he killed his partner or hiding because he’s afraid he’s next,” Pete told her. “Either way, we’re putting maximum effort into tracking him down.”

  “They weren’t staying at the cottages in Laxey, were they?” Bessie asked.

  “No, they weren’t,” Pete replied. “They were staying at a bed and breakfast in Port Erin, but they moved out a week ago. They told Agnes that they were moving in with a friend, the same friend who was going to provide all of the food and drink for the party, but she never did get a name or any idea of where this friend lived on the island.”

  “
So now what?” Bessie asked.

  “Agnes has told the committee the whole story. They all know to contact me if they hear from Nathan. In the meantime, she has an event to put together. She’s going to keep texting Nathan, pretending she doesn’t know what’s happened. We’re hoping he might still try to stay involved, at least on some level,” Pete said.

  “What can we do?” Janet wanted to know.

  “I don’t think there’s anything you can do,” Pete told her. “Anyone on the committee can identify Nathan if he turns up. You should just get on with enjoying your holiday.”

  “We’re going to help Agnes with her event,” Bessie told him. “She’s going to need all the help she can get at this point.”

  Pete nodded. “If you can, I’m sure she’d appreciate the help. She was pretty shaken up to learn that she’d trusted the wrong men. They were involved in every aspect of planning for it, so she has a lot of ground to make up.”

  Bessie looked over his shoulder. Agnes had picked up her bag and was heading their way.

  “I don’t want to interrupt, but I wanted to invite you all to our next meeting,” she said. “We’ll be meeting at the House of Mannanan tomorrow at one o’clock. The museum is going to provide biscuits and hot drinks and let us look over the space we’ll be using on Thursday. Any and all help you can provide as we try to get everything worked out in time would be greatly appreciated.”

  “We just did this back in Doveby Dale,” Janet told her. “And it all came together in the end. Unfortunately, the money we raised was then stolen, but that isn’t going to happen this time.”

  “No, thankfully not,” Agnes said. “I’ll see you ladies tomorrow, then. And thank you.”

  CHAPTER 5

  F eeling very full after their three-course lunch, Bessie and her friends walked slowly back into the centre of town.

  “I shouldn’t have had pudding,” Joan said.

  “But we didn’t want to leave before the meeting wrapped up,” Bessie replied.

  “Still, it was an indulgence,” Joan answered.

  “We’re on holiday,” Janet reminded her. “We’re allowed to be indulgent.”

  Bessie laughed. “I’ve no excuse, of course, except that I wanted pudding. But if you really want to work off some of those extra calories, how about a walk up to the Manx Museum? It’s a steep climb from here, and then we can visit the exhibits. You probably won’t have time to do that during the conference.”

  “I don’t think we’ve ever been to the museum,” Janet said. “And I’m sure it’s interesting.”

  “I think it’s wonderful, but I may not be totally objective,” Bessie told her.

  “Is it primarily a historical museum?” Joan asked.

  “Yes, it takes you through the island’s history. It starts by explaining the types of rock the island is made from and then takes you through time from the Stone Age to the present day.”

  “Why didn’t we ever get there before?” Joan asked Janet.

  “Because every time we come into Douglas, we end up shopping all day?” Janet suggested.

  Joan nodded. “The museum sounds wonderful, let’s go.”

  The walk up to the museum took several minutes, especially as the trio stopped frequently to admire the views.

  “I wish we could see the sea from our house,” Janet said at one point.

  “We’re very many miles from the sea there,” Joan reminded her. “If we did have a view of the sea, no doubt the house would have been considerably more expensive.”

  “I suppose you’re right,” Janet replied. “And the whole village would feel very different if we were on the sea. The water is so beautiful to look at.”

  “As are the Derbyshire dales,” Joan said.

  “They truly are,” Janet agreed. “But Bessie, you must come and see them for yourself one day soon.”

  “I’d like to,” Bessie replied. “Perhaps I could persuade Doona to come with me. I’m sure she could use a holiday.”

  “You’d both be more than welcome,” Janet assured her. “We really must meet Doona soon.”

  “We haven’t talked about dinner tonight. Shall I invite her to join us, whatever we decide to do?” Bessie asked.

  “Oh, yes, do,” Janet said. “And let’s get pizza or fish and chips or something extravagant like that.”

  “We had a very large lunch,” Joan said. “I was thinking we should have something light for dinner.”

  “We’re on holiday,” Janet retorted.

  Bessie was glad that they arrived at the museum before the sisters could argue any further. Of course they weren’t really arguing, but Bessie didn’t want them to start, and she didn’t want to feel as if she were in the middle of it all, either. She had a sister; she could well remember how easily a bit of good-natured disagreement could turn into a much bigger argument.

  “Good afternoon, Bessie,” the man behind the desk said brightly. “I didn’t know you were coming in today.”

  “Hello, Henry,” Bessie replied. She introduced the man to the sisters. “Henry has been working for Manx National Heritage since he left school at eighteen,” she told them. “With thirty-odd years of experience under his belt, he knows the history of the island better than anyone.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Henry said. “But I do know our historical sites really well. Now that spring is here, I can’t wait to get back out there and start working at the sites, instead of here.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Henry flushed. “Not that I don’t love it here, of course,” he added quickly. “But I love being out in the fresh air at the castles, that’s all.”

  “I understand,” Bessie told him. “But how are you? I miss seeing you every week now that our language class is finished for this year.”

  Henry shrugged. “I’m doing okay,” he said.

  Henry had been a lifelong bachelor, but in the last year he’d started seeing a lovely woman called Laura. Unfortunately, Laura had recently decided to move back to the UK, leaving Henry on his own again.

  Bessie patted his arm. “I’m sure you are,” she said. “But if you ever need a friend, you know where I am.”

  “I do,” Henry agreed. “And I appreciate that. Now, are you and your friends wanting to see the movie?”

  Bessie looked at the sisters. “Do you want to watch the movie? It isn’t long and it gives a very good short history of the island.”

  “Will we still have time to see the whole museum?” Joan asked.

  “Oh, yes, as I said, it isn’t a long movie,” Bessie assured her.

  “I think we should,” Janet said. “If nothing else, so we can sit down for a few minutes. The walk up here was a challenge.”

  Henry let Bessie and her friends into the small theatre. Once they were seated, he started the film. Twenty minutes later the lights came back on and Bessie looked at the others.

  “Was it worth the time?” she asked.

  “It was very good,” Janet said. “Now I’m really excited about what we’re going to see here.”

  Joan nodded. “Obviously they compressed a great deal of history into a very short film, but it was well done.”

  Bessie led the women back out into the museum’s foyer. Henry was talking with another staff member, Doug, as they walked out.

  “Bessie, did the police really find a dead body in one of the holiday cottages down the beach from you?” Doug asked as they emerged from the theatre.

  “Yes, they did,” Bessie told him.

  “How awful,” Henry said. “Do they know who he or she was?”

  “I believe the police have some idea, but I don’t think they’re releasing the name yet,” Bessie replied.

  “You might want a look at the local paper,” Doug said.

  Bessie took the paper and gasped at the headline. “Laxey Murder Magnet Finds Another Body,” she read. “They’re calling me a murder magnet.”

  “You have found quite a few bodies in the last year or so,” Henry said.


  “Yes, but I didn’t find this one,” Bessie snapped.

  “They have a picture of you on the beach while the police are putting up the crime scene tape,” Doug said.

  Bessie turned the page and found the picture. It had been taken the previous evening while she and the Markham sisters had been standing and watching John and the others going in and out of the last cottage. While there were police constables and other officials everywhere, the photo seemed to be centered on Bessie and her friends.

  “My hair is a mess,” Janet complained.

  “Are they allowed to print photos of people taken without their permission?” Joan demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Bessie replied. “But I suspect they could argue that the photo is of the crime scene and we just happened to be standing in the wrong place when it was taken.”

  “You didn’t find the body?” Henry asked.

  “No, I didn’t,” Bessie replied.

  “I did,” Janet said. “And I can’t tell you how sorry I am that I ever looked into that window.”

  “Anyway, I thought you should know,” Doug said.

  “Thank you,” Bessie replied. “I’ll have to get a copy of the paper and read the whole article, but maybe not until after I’ve calmed down a little bit.”

  “I’ll have to get one, too,” Janet said. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in the newspaper before.”

  “You were in nearly every year with the winners of the school spelling bee,” Joan reminded her.

  “In the little local paper in the tiny village where we lived, yes, but this is a national newspaper,” Janet replied.

  “On a very small island,” Henry said with a grin. “I’m sure Dan Ross would be thrilled to hear you talking about it that way, though.”

  “The article doesn’t actually say. Was the person murdered?” Doug asked.

  “I believe the police are treating the death as a suspected homicide,” Bessie replied. “But it will be some time before there will be an official verdict.”

  Doug nodded. “Are you touring the museum? I can walk along with you for a while, if you’d like, and point out some of the most interesting things. I’m sure you know all of them at least as well as I do, of course,” he said to Bessie.