An Isle of Man Ghostly Cozy Collection - ABC

by Diana Xarissa

  “That’s a bit worrying,” Fenella said. “I answered an awful lot of questions for him. I’d hate to think he’s just going to lose the notebook and we’ll have to do it all again.”

  “Oh, no worries,” the woman assured her. “He never loses them once he starts using them. He only loses the spares he carries around with him. This one doesn’t have any writing in it, does it?”

  “I didn’t check,” Fenella lied, feeling herself blushing bright red.

  “Well, go ahead and take a peek,” the woman told her.

  Fenella flipped through the book again. “No, you’re right,” she said after a minute. “It’s blank inside.”

  “Aye, well, I’ll tell the inspector, but I doubt he’ll be bothered. If he hasn’t collected it in a few days, you may as well just use it yourself. As I said, he loses them all the time, but he seems to have an endless supply.”

  “I see. Well, thank you anyway, then,” Fenella said. Leaving the notebook on the counter, she walked over to the window and looked out. It was still raining, which made her reluctant to go out anywhere. She was eager to find the Douglas Public Library and also the Manx Museum. There probably wasn’t anything in either that would help with her research, but at least she could feel like she was trying.

  As the rain seemed to pick up in intensity, she decided that reading a book was probably about as ambitious as she wanted to be. While she did briefly consider reading something about Henry and his wives, in the end she settled on one of her old favorites, a classic murder mystery. She made herself comfortable on the couch and settled in. A few pages into the novel, the phone began to ring.

  I haven’t even given anyone this number, Fenella thought to herself as she crossed to the phone on the table by the door. It was bound to be a wrong number or an insurance salesman. I probably do need some insurance, come to think of it, she thought as she picked up the receiver.

  “Hello?”

  “Ah, Margaret, you are home,” a familiar voice said. “I wanted to wait until well into the afternoon to call you, in case you were still feeling jet-lagged.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied coolly. She hadn’t even considered Jack Dawson as a potential caller, but now she thought she’d rather it had been a wrong number. Even an insurance salesman would have been preferable.

  “Good, good,” Jack replied. “And how are you settling into your new home?”

  “It’s lovely,” she told him. “The apartment is huge and much nicer than I imagined it would be. It’s very modern with a fabulous kitchen and all of the latest amenities.”

  “Now, now, don’t you mean the flat is huge?” the man asked. “You really must make an effort to learn your new language, don’t you think?”

  “The name of the building is Promenade View Apartments,” she snapped at him. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with my calling it an apartment.”

  “Hmm, I wonder why they called the building that. How odd,” Jack said. “So you’re happy with the flat. I hope the lawyer was helpful?”

  “My aunt’s advocate was incredibly helpful,” she replied, deliberately using the Manx term that she was fairly sure Jack hadn’t heard before.

  “Excellent,” Jack said brightly. “So what have you done so far? Have you just been catching up on your rest or have you explored the entire island?”

  “While the island might be small by American standards, it’s far too large to see everything in a single day,” she told him. “Anyway, so far today, I’ve bought myself a mobile phone, found a murdered man and been interviewed by the police.”

  She smiled to herself as she heard Jack gasp. After a moment he spoke again. “You’ve been reading one of your mystery novels again, haven’t you? You shouldn’t phrase things like that. You had me quite worried for a moment.”

  “I haven’t had time to read anything,” she countered. “The CID inspector only just left.”

  “Okay, stop teasing and tell me what you’ve really been doing,” Jack said, sounding angry.

  Fenella sighed. If she’d had any doubts about ending her relationship with the man, and she really didn’t, this conversation was a good reminder of exactly why she’d been happy to leave him behind.

  “What did you want, anyway?” she demanded.

  “I was just calling to see how you are,” he replied. “I miss you, really. It seems strange not having you around.”

  “What can’t you find?” she asked.

  He chuckled, but it sounded forced. “I really do miss you,” he insisted. “And the fact that you know me so well only reminds me of why. Where did you put the black belt that goes with my dark grey suit?”

  Fenella shook her head. “I didn’t put it anywhere,” she said with as much patience as she could muster. “Did you check the belt rack in the closet?”

  “I was sure I left them on the pants, you see,” he told her. “But they aren’t there.”

  “The pants had to go to the dry cleaners because you spilled soup on them, remember? I’m sure you hung the belt on the rack in the closet.”

  “Ah, I do remember the soup,” he replied. “It was something creamy and it left a terrible stain. Did they go to the cleaners, then, the pants?”

  Fenella swallowed a sigh. It was her own fault for getting involved with the man in the first place. He was the epitome of the absent-minded professor, bumbling around and misplacing everything. Some people thought that academics were like that because their brains were always focused on a higher plane, but Fenella was certain in Jack’s case that he was simply not focused at all.

  “Go and check the closet,” she said firmly.

  She held the phone away from her ear as Jack banged the receiver on his end down on the desk. When she closed her eyes, she could picture the man wandering down the short corridor to the master bedroom at the back of his house. She could only hope that by the time he got there, he’d still remember why he’d gone. And then she had to hope that he’d remember she was still on the phone.

  “It was there,” he said excitedly a few minutes later. “How perfectly wonderful of you to remember.”

  “Yes, that’s me, perfectly wonderful,” she muttered.

  “You are, you know,” he replied quickly. “And I miss you terribly.”

  “I’m sorry,” she told him. “But I’m not coming back.”

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “We were so happy together.”

  “You were happy,” she corrected him gently. “I was cook, maid and personal assistant all rolled into one. That wasn’t what I wanted to do with the rest of my life.”

  “I’ll change,” he replied. “I’ll hire all of those people if you come back.”

  “It’s too late,” Fenella said. “I’ve started a new life here. Even if I wanted to, it would be too hard to go back. I sold my house and my car and quit my job. My life is here now.”

  “But what am I supposed to do without you?” Jack demanded.

  Fenella sighed. “We’ve had this conversation a dozen times,” she reminded him. “This is good for you. You can find someone new, too.”

  “Yes, I suppose you’re right,” he said after a moment. “I shall try to be sensible about things. You mustn’t try to put me off by making up wild stories, though.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” she replied.

  “I’ll call you again soon,” he said, hanging up before he had time to hear Fenella’s “please don’t.”

  With a sigh, she sat back down on the couch and looked out at the sea. This was the first day of her exciting new life, and things weren’t going at all like she’d planned. She was startled when she heard a knock on her door.

  She looked through the small peephole on the door, but couldn’t see anything through its distorted lens. Maybe she really did need some kind of special glasses. Pushing the thought from her mind, she pulled her door open.

  “Inspector Robinson?” she said in surprise.

  3

  “Ah, good afternoon,�
�� the inspector greeted her. “I understand I left one of my notebooks here this morning?”

  Fenella flushed. “Oh, yes, of course,” she said. She stepped backwards to let the man into the room. When she’d seen him at the door, she’d immediately felt as if she were guilty of something, which was a crazy reaction. As she crossed the room to the counter where she’d left the notebook, Mona’s words began to echo in her head.

  “Here you are,” she said, holding the book out to him.

  As he took the few steps he needed to take it from her, Fenella found herself blushing as she noted the accuracy of Mona’s assessment. The man was very good-looking indeed. As he took the book from her hand, his fingers brushed hers. She let go of the notebook instantly, pulling her hand away. As soon as she’d done it, she realized how rude it must have looked.

  “Sorry, I mean, I, that is…” she trailed off and looked at the man. “I’m still very jet-lagged,” she said slowly, carefully articulating each word.

  He smiled. “Perhaps it might be best if I come and talk to you again, then, when you’ve had a chance to catch up on your rest.”

  “Yes, probably,” she agreed.

  “How about tomorrow morning?” he asked. “I can come here on my way to the station, if you think you’ll be in a fit state to talk to me around nine?”

  “That’s fine,” Fenella agreed. “I’ll see you then.”

  “Excellent,” the man said. He turned and walked to the door with Fenella following a few steps behind. “Thank you for ringing in to let me know about this,” he added, waving the notebook. “I’m trying harder to keep track of them, as the Chief Constable has been questioning my expenses.”

  Fenella wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, so she smiled but didn’t laugh. The man was out the door before she reached it, and as she shut it behind him, she shook her head.

  “You’re behaving like a teenager with a crush,” she scolded herself.

  “Ah, but then he went and made an excuse to come and see you tomorrow,” a voice said from across the room.

  Fenella sighed. “I thought you were just a bad dream,” she told Mona.

  “What shocking manners,” Mona replied. “I should have a long conversation with your mother.”

  “Can you?” Fenella asked. “I’d love to see her, actually. Can she come and visit?”

  Mona shook her head. “She’s moved on quite happily. She and your father both have. I always was the black sheep of the family.”

  “I thought you had things to do,” Fenella reminded her unwelcome guest.

  “I did them,” Mona replied. “And then I thought I would just peek in on you, and I found that gorgeous inspector here again. He’s worth spending a bit of time with any day.”

  Fenella sat down and looked at her book. She would have loved to go back to reading it, but no doubt her aunt would think that was rude. “So, who killed Alan Collins?” she asked the woman idly.

  “How should I know?” Mona demanded.

  “I thought maybe you saw it happen,” Fenella replied. “Or maybe Mr. Collins’s ghost is wandering around out there complaining about being murdered. You haven’t crossed paths with him, then?”

  Mona sighed and sat down in the chair next to Fenella. “It would take days or even weeks to explain everything about the spirit world to you,” she said. “And I’ve no interest in bothering with all of that. In answer to your question, I didn’t see the murder take place and I’ve no idea where Mr. Collins has gone now that he’s passed.”

  “Even if you did know, I don’t suppose I could tell the inspector anything. I can’t imagine how he’d react if I told him I knew who the murderer was because my dead aunt had told me.”

  “Yes, well, never mind that,” Mona said. “I’m not the least bit interested in who killed the man. I found him quite impossible to like.”

  “You knew him?”

  “I’d met him,” Mona corrected her. “He had a relationship of some sort with Suzy Monroe, who works in the management office in this building. She brought him around once, trying to persuade people to think about selling their flats and listing them with Mr. Collins.”

  “But you weren’t interested in selling,” Fenella guessed.

  “Of course not, why would I want to sell my home?” Mona asked. “I told him he was wasting his time and that I wouldn’t be leaving here until I was stone-cold dead.”

  Fenella shivered and then chuckled. “And here you are, dead and still in residence,” she said dryly.

  Mona laughed. “Yes, well, I hope you won’t mind terribly. I can’t imagine leaving, you see.”

  Fenella bit her tongue as a dozen replies occurred to her. Reminding herself that she really was still jet-lagged, she simply shook her head. “But if you didn’t agree to sell, how could he have had a sales listing for the flat?” she asked after a moment.

  “He had a listing for my flat?” Mona demanded.

  “That’s what Inspector Robinson said.”

  “I must have missed that part,” Mona told her. “But I do know that he and Suzy were up here a few weeks ago taking pictures. I thought at the time that you’d simply decided to sell the flat. I was quite angry at you, really.”

  “Selling never crossed my mind,” Fenella said, mostly truthfully. “As soon as I heard that I’d inherited a place to live and enough money to support myself, I realized I could totally change my life. It was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

  “Yes, well, having heard your conversation with the man that rang earlier, if that’s what you left behind, I think you were right to come over here.”

  Fenella flushed. “Jack isn’t that bad,” she said, defending him almost instinctively. “We were together for a great many years and for most of them he made me happy.”

  “It didn’t sound like that earlier,” Mona said. “Don’t confuse happy with reasonably content and unwilling to make difficult changes,” she said.

  Fenella shrugged. “It doesn’t really matter. He’s out of my life now. I’ve burnt all my bridges in favor of a new life in a new country.”

  “And stumbled into a murder investigation within twenty-four hours. I do hope this isn’t going to be a habit with you.”

  “I’m forty-eight and this is my first ever murder investigation,” Fenella told her. “I’m confident that it will also be my last.”

  “Unless you get involved with the very handsome Inspector Robinson,” Mona mused. “Although you’re quite young, really, at least relatively. There are a number of other men you might like as well.”

  “I’m more interested in why Alan Collins was taking pictures of my apartment than I am in meeting men,” Fenella said stoutly.

  “Clearly he was hoping that you were going to be interested in selling and he was trying to get a head start on the listing,” Mona said. “That seems like something he would do. He was quite unlikeable.”

  “Suzy Monroe didn’t agree, presumably,” Fenella said.

  “She’s unlikeable as well, so they were well suited.”

  “I don’t think I’ve met her.”

  “Maybe she killed the man,” Mona suggested. “You should go and ask her about it.”

  “I should what?”

  Mona shrugged. “You haven’t anything better to do,” she said. “Maybe you should help the inspector with his investigation.”

  “You want me to go around trying to find the person who stuck a knife into Alan Collins?” Fenella asked incredulously. “I’d rather not end up dead myself, no matter how much fun you make death look.”

  Mona smiled. “Oh, I’d much rather still be alive, certainly. But dead isn’t so bad, if you play your cards right. But that’s a conversation for another day. For today, let’s see if we can work out who killed that odious man.”

  “Seriously?” Fenella asked. “I was going to read a book and relax.”

  Mona glanced at the book on the small table between them. “And it’s a murder mystery,” Mona said. “From my collect
ion, no doubt.”

  “You do have a very impressive collection,” Fenella said.

  “And now we’re mixed up in a real murder investigation,” Mona said excitedly. “We can put our detective skills to use.”

  Fenella just stared at her. “I suppose, being as you’re already dead, you don’t really have to worry about getting killed or getting arrested,” she said after a moment. “But as both of those are things I’d rather avoid, I’m going to stay as far away from the murder investigation as I can.”

  “We could at least talk about the murder,” Mona said. “I could tell you everything I know about the victim and his friends, for instance.”

  “Sure, and then when I accidently let something slip in front of the inspector, I can just tell him a ghost told me. What is the psychiatric hospital on the island like, then?”

  A knock on the door interrupted the conversation just as it was heating up. Fenella got to her feet and glared at Mona. “I hope, whoever it is, they sit on you,” she said crossly before she walked to the door.

  “Hello,” she said curiously when she’d opened the door.

  “Good afternoon,” the man replied. He smiled at her. “I suppose there is a slight resemblance between you and your aunt, but I’m not certain I could have picked you out in a crowd as being her niece.”

  “No? Well, I mean, I’m told I look more like my father’s side of the family, so perhaps that’s why,” Fenella said, wondering who the man was and why he was there.

  “But where are my manners?” he asked. “I’m Peter Cannell. I live in the flat next door.” He gestured to his left. “I was going to come over and introduce myself last night, but I was afraid you might be too worn out from your travels to welcome company.”

  “I was indeed,” Fenella replied.

  “Yes, well, I just wanted to welcome you to the island. Your aunt was a dear friend. If you need anything, please let me know.”

  “Thank you, that’s very kind of you,” Fenella said.

  He smiled again, a lovely and warm smile that made his blue eyes twinkle. “I’m sure I’ll see you around,” he added, before he turned and made his way back to his own apartment that truly was right next door to Fenella’s.