An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - DEF

by Diana Xarissa

  “I’m sorry,” Fenella told her. “Do you really think both women were murdered?” she asked tentatively.

  Mona shrugged. “That was my first instinct, but I don’t know. It seems impossible that Phillipa would kill anyone, let alone women who used to be her friends, but it seems impossible that both Anne Marie and Margaret had accidents within days of one another.”

  “Maybe it isn’t Phillipa, then,” Fenella suggested.

  “Paulette is too timid to do anything as outrageous as murder, and I can’t see Paul caring in the slightest what his father did. I’m sure he knew what the man was up to years ago. His father’s notes won’t have shocked him at all.”

  “Can you think of any other reason why someone would want Anne Marie and Margaret dead?” Fenella asked.

  “Not both of them,” Mona said after thinking for a minute. “They both have children who might be eager to inherit, but that’s about all I can think of for a motive.”

  “You don’t think the two of them were keeping some secret for years and now it’s been found out?” Fenella asked.

  “I still think Anne Marie might have had a hand in her husband’s death, but I can’t imagine who would want to murder her over that, especially not after all this time.”

  “Do you think Margaret knew anything about Herbert’s death?”

  “I’m sure she had the same suspicions that I did, but Anne Marie was too smart to use an accomplice or anything like that.”

  “What about secrets relating to money or one of the men’s businesses?”

  “I have no idea,” Mona said. “But Mark Hammersmith should be doing everything he can to find out.”

  “He thinks they were both accidents,” Fenella reminded her. “And I’m inclined to agree with him,” she added, earning a frown from Mona.

  “Why was Anne Marie coming to see you?” Mona asked. “That may well be the key.”

  “I’ve no idea,” Fenella said. “Maybe she was lying about coming here because she was really meeting up with someone she shouldn’t have been.”

  “Like who?”

  “A married man? She seemed to have had a thing for married men.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Mona told her. “There weren’t any married men left that were her age.”

  “And if there had been, they probably would have wanted a younger woman,” Fenella added.

  Mona nodded. She opened her mouth to reply, but the phone interrupted.

  “Is that Fenella Woods?” the voice quavered slightly.

  “It is, yes.”

  “This is Hannah Jones. I was just ringing to apologize for not coming for tea as planned. Margaret was going to collect me, you see. Anyway, at two o’clock I was still talking to the police.”

  “I’m very sorry for your loss,” Fenella said. “I know you were friends for many years.”

  “Yes, well, thank you for that. We were friends, but not great friends. There was too much competition between all of us; that prevented us from becoming close. We were actually becoming better friends in just the last few months. Now that all the men we used to fight over are dead, we were able to enjoy one another’s company.”

  “How sad,” Fenella murmured, unsure of what else to say.

  “Yes, well, I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble for the tea party,” Hannah said. “I’d hate to think that you wasted a lot of time and money.”

  “Oh, no, no trouble at all,” Fenella lied brightly, looking sadly at the kitchen counter. Mark had left only a small dent in the vast amount of food on offer.

  “I would really like a chance to sit down and talk with you about Mona,” the woman added. “Maybe we could try again? I’m free tomorrow.”

  Fenella looked at her nearly empty calendar and shrugged. “I can do tomorrow,” she said. But there was no way she was going to try to recreate today’s tea party, she decided. “Why don’t we meet for lunch somewhere, my treat?”

  “Ooh, I’d like that,” Hannah replied. She named a restaurant. “It’s close to home, so I don’t have to drive,” she added. “I know I’m being silly, but driving worries me since Anne Marie’s accident.”

  “I’ll meet you there at noon,” Fenella said.

  “Midday is perfect,” the woman told her. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  Fenella put down the phone and then sighed. Maybe she ought to put some effort into learning to speak British English, but saying flat for apartment or midday for noon still felt odd to her. Maybe they’d become more natural over time.

  “You should ring Mark and tell him you’re meeting Hannah tomorrow,” Mona said. “He should offer her police protection.”

  “Don’t say that,” Fenella snapped. “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Anyway, Mark didn’t take anything I said seriously. He’d just laugh if I suggested that Hannah needed police protection.”

  “I wish Daniel was here,” Mona said.

  “Me, too,” Fenella agreed. For all sorts of reasons that have nothing to do with Anne Marie and Margaret, she added to herself.

  She was staring at the food again when her mobile phone buzzed.

  “I hope this is Shelly and she’s texting to let me know that she and Gordon are on their way to eat everything,” she said as she picked up the phone.

  It wasn’t Shelly. “What is going on over there?” the message from Daniel Robinson read.

  “Nothing much,” Fenella texted back.

  “Why did Mark Hammersmith pull me out of a class to ask me questions about you, then?”

  Fenella sighed deeply.

  “Who is it?” Mona asked.

  “It’s Daniel. Inspector Hammersmith pulled him out of a class to ask him about me.”

  “Oh, dear,” Mona said. “But at least now you can share our theory with Daniel. Tell him everything.”

  “He’s busy,” Fenella replied. She thought for a minute, and then texted again. “Sorry about that. Just a few unfortunate accidents that have a tenuous link to me.”

  “I have to get back to my class. I’ll ring you later,” was the message that came back.

  “He’s going to ring me later,” Fenella told Mona.

  “Excellent. You can tell him everything and insist that Hannah get some protection.”

  “I’m sure Hannah doesn’t need protection,” Fenella protested. “Inspector Hammersmith is a professional. If he thinks both deaths were accidents, well, he should know.”

  “You were calling him Mark before,” Mona said.

  “That was before he dragged Daniel into this,” Fenella snapped. “As if I don’t have enough problems right now.”

  A knock on the door cut short the discussion. Fenella was thrilled to see Shelly and Gordon on her doorstep.

  “I hope you’re hungry,” she said as she pulled Shelly into the apartment.

  “It doesn’t look like your guests ate very much,” Shelly said as Fenella handed her a plate.

  “They didn’t come,” Fenella replied.

  “Oh, dear. I hope nothing serious came up,” Shelly exclaimed.

  “Margaret Dolek fell down her stairs last night and broke her neck,” Fenella said. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she felt tears forming.

  Shelly put her plate down on the counter and pulled Fenella into a hug. “You poor thing,” she said. “Are you okay?”

  “I barely knew the woman,” Fenella said, angrily wiping away a tear that managed to trickle down her face. “I’ve no reason to be this upset.”

  “You were looking forward to talking with her about Mona,” Shelly said, patting her back. “And this is the second person that you’d only just met who died suddenly. With all the other horrid things you’ve been tangled up in lately, it’s hardly surprising that you’re upset.”

  Fenella swallowed hard and tried to get her emotions under control. Shelly’s kind sympathy made her feel even worse.

  A plate clattered behind her, causing both women to look at Gordon. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I n
early dropped a biscuit and I did drop my plate trying to catch the stupid thing.”

  Fenella managed a small smile. “I hope nothing’s broken,” she said.

  “The biscuit snapped in half, but the plate is fine,” he assured her.

  Shelly laughed and shook her head. “Quick, hide the evidence,” she told the man. He obligingly stuck half of the offending treat into this mouth.

  The distraction had been enough of a diversion to allow Fenella to pull herself together. “I was hoping you’d bring a dozen friends with you,” she said as Shelly patted her back one more time and then picked up her plate again.

  “I’m not sure I know a dozen people,” Gordon said.

  “But Shelly does,” Fenella laughed. Shelly was one of the most outgoing and friendly people that Fenella had ever met. There was no doubt in her mind that Shelly could have found twelve or even twenty people to come to an impromptu tea party that afternoon if she’d tried.

  “You should ring Peter. Leave a message on his answering machine and tell him to come over when he gets home from work,” Shelly suggested. “It will save him the bother of making himself dinner.”

  Fenella followed her friend’s advice and then made tea for everyone.

  “How did you find out what happened to Margaret?” Shelly asked as they all sat down to eat.

  “The police inspector who came to ask me about Anne Marie told me,” Fenella replied. “He found it interesting that both women were planning to visit me right before they died.”

  “Life is full of odd coincidences,” Gordon remarked.

  “Margaret’s death was just an accident, wasn’t it?” Shelly asked.

  “He seemed to think so, although I don’t think there’s been enough time for any official verdict,” Fenella replied.

  “What else could it have been?” Gordon asked around a mouthful of cake.

  “Murder,” Shelly said dramatically. She looked at Gordon’s shocked face and laughed. “I know it sounds farfetched, but Fenella’s been caught up in several murder investigations in the past. Look at what happened last month with Harvey and Mortimer Morrison.”

  Gordon frowned. “But this was an accident, right?”

  “As I said, the police seem to think so,” Fenella repeated herself.

  “They’re wrong,” Mona said from her seat in the living room.

  “And they know what they’re doing,” Fenella added, mostly for Mona’s benefit.

  “No one could possibly have any motive for killing a little old lady like Margaret,” Shelly said.

  “Of course not,” Gordon agreed. “It must have been an accident.”

  “Inspector Hammersmith also suggested it could have been suicide,” Fenella told the others.

  “That’s almost as impossible to believe as murder,” Gordon said. “At her age she must take a cocktail of tablets every day. I’m sure if she wanted to kill herself she could have simply taken an overdose of something and died peacefully in her bed. Deliberately falling down a flight of stairs would take considerable nerve, I think.”

  “As would purposefully driving into a stone wall,” Fenella said.

  “You talked to both women the day before they died,” Shelly said. “Did either of them seem depressed or unhappy?”

  “No, not at all,” Fenella replied. She sighed and rubbed her forehead. The whole conversation was giving her a headache.

  “Let’s talk about more pleasant things,” Shelly said quickly. “These little cakes are delicious, and I love the sandwiches.”

  The trio talked about food for another hour while the overfull trays gradually began to empty. By the time Peter arrived, just after five, Fenella was starting to think they might actually manage to eat the lot.

  “Come and eat,” she told Peter after she’d answered his tentative knock.

  He smiled when he saw the now half-empty trays. “Did your tea party go well?” he asked as he began to fill a plate.

  “It never happened,” Fenella replied.

  “We can talk about that later,” Shelly said brightly. “But you just arrived in the middle of a discussion about Christmas cookies, which sound wonderful. Tell me more,” she said to Fenella.

  Shelly kept the conversation inconsequential and abundant for several hours as the foursome finished off as much as they could of the feast.

  “That’s it,” Fenella said eventually. “I can’t eat another bite, and even if I wasn’t full up, I can’t stand the thought of one more sandwich or cake. I’ve even gone off the idea of cookies. I’m going to throw the last of this stuff out.”

  “Usually I’d object,” Shelly said. “I hate to see food going to waste. But we’ve been nibbling on this stuff for hours. I’ll be happy to see it all gone.”

  “I’ll take any biscuits you don’t want,” Gordon offered. He shrugged when Fenella looked at him. “I never think to buy them,” he explained. “My wife always did the grocery shopping, and now that I’m on my own, I tend to buy what I know I need and never give a thought to little treats that I might want.”

  “We should do our shopping together,” Shelly offered. “I’d remind you to buy biscuits for sure.”

  Gordon smiled at her. “I’d like that,” he said. Fenella hid a smile as the man reached over and gave Shelly’s hand a squeeze.

  “They’re awfully cute together,” Mona said from her seat. “Tell Shelly that she needs to make the first move, though. Gordon doesn’t have enough confidence to try to kiss her without some encouragement.”

  Fenella nodded and then caught herself before she could reply. “I’ll just put all of the cookies, er, biscuits into a bag for you,” she told Gordon.

  A few minutes later she had the trays cleared. Gordon had a bag of treats to take home with him and Shelly was running hot water to help with the dishes.

  “These are such beautiful silver plates,” she said as Fenella cleared the table. “Mona had such gorgeous things.”

  “I’m feeling incredibly spoiled,” Fenella admitted. “I’m sure one of the reasons I did so much food was because I wanted to use the fabulous trays.”

  “I don’t blame you,” Shelly told her. “If I had Mona’s things, I’d want to use them all the time.”

  A short while later the trays were washed, dried, and put away, and Fenella had the kitchen back to normal. Katie had been given her dinner and was now busy chasing a piece of string that Gordon was waving while Peter watched.

  “I think we could all do with a drink,” Shelly announced as she walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll even buy the first round.”

  “I’m only staying for one round,” Fenella said quickly. “I feel as if I’ve been drinking far too much lately.”

  “We all have,” Shelly agreed happily. “So we’ll all stick to one drink tonight.”

  The Tale and Tail was quiet, just the way they all liked it. Shelly insisted on buying the drinks and they took them to a quiet table on the upper level.

  “To Anne Marie and Margaret,” Shelly said softly, clinking glasses with Fenella.

  “To Anne Marie and Margaret,” Fenella echoed. She sipped her drink and let the conversation wash over her as Shelly explained to Peter what had happened to Margaret.

  Mona has an overactive imagination, Fenella told herself, but was it possible that Mona was right? Had someone murdered both Anne Marie and Margaret? It seemed impossible, but the thought still worried Fenella. Did Phillipa have a credible motive? Or Paulette? Or Paul? Or was there something else in the women’s shared past that had driven someone to murder at this late date?

  “You’re very quiet,” Peter murmured in her ear.

  “I’m sorry,” she replied. “Margaret’s death came as a huge shock, especially on the heels of Anne Marie’s.”

  “I am sorry,” he told her. He slid an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Maybe you need to get away for a few days,” he suggested. “I’m swamped at work and can’t go with you, but I have a cottage in Cornwall that’s sitting
empty right now. You’re more than welcome to borrow it for a week or more.”

  “Thank you,” Fenella said, feeling deeply touched by the man’s thoughtfulness. “I might like a short vacation, but I don’t really want to leave the island while the police are still investigating. I would hate for Inspector Hammersmith to think I’m trying to get away.”

  Peter chuckled. “He can’t possibly suspect you of anything,” he said firmly. “If he does, Daniel will soon set him straight.”

  “Daniel,” Fenella gasped. “He was going to call me tonight.” She pulled out her mobile phone, expecting to see a missed call or a text, but found neither.

  “You should get home, if he’s going to ring,” Shelly said. “Maybe he can set your mind at rest about what happened to Anne Marie and Margaret.”

  “I hope so,” Fenella said.

  They carried their empty glasses back down to the bar to save the staff from having to clear their table and then made their way outside.

  “It’s the perfect night for a long walk on the promenade,” Peter said. “Too bad you need to get back.”

  Fenella sighed. “Let’s at least cross over and walk on that side,” she suggested. “I’m sure the air is fresher over there.”

  Away from the bars, restaurants, and hotels, the air did feel fresher, at least to Fenella. They walked a short distance past their building before she began to worry again about missing Daniel’s call. When they turned around, she was nearly knocked over by a huge dog who had run up behind her.

  “My goodness,” she exclaimed. “It’s good to see you again, too, Winston.” The dog barked excitedly and then ran back to his owner before racing back to Fenella’s side. Fenella gave him an affectionate embrace, rubbing his head and scratching behind his ears.

  In June, Fenella had looked after Winston for several days when his owner had disappeared. She’d been both relieved and disappointed when the man had returned. Now she looked forward to bumping into them on the promenade on occasion so that she could get her fill of doggy devotion.

  “He spotted you as soon as you left the pub,” Harvey Garus told her when he caught up his dog. “I was hoping you might cross over and take a walk, but I thought you’d go on a lot further.”