Agnes sighed. “Of course not. I hope young Hugh wasn’t too upset. Imagine becoming a father for the first time just before finding a dead body. It was quite a day for the young man, wasn’t it?”
Agnes was in her mid-sixties. She was a keen volunteer with Mannanan’s Kids, a charity that did wonderful work across the island. Agnes had decorated a room in the first year of the event on behalf of the charity, and she’d been kind enough to agree to serve on the planning committee this year. The room she was decorating was one of the most ambitious that Bessie had seen and the last time she’d peeked in on it, everything was coming together beautifully.
“We should get started,” Anabella said. “My flight leaves at two.”
“I haven’t been here since last week. How are the rooms coming?” Mark asked Agnes.
“Things are coming together nicely,” she replied. “Except for the one problem, of course.”
Bessie frowned. It was late in the day to have to deal with a problem.
“We’ll get to that at the end,” Mark said.
“Here we are,” a voice said from the doorway. A man carried in a large tray that was covered in sandwiches. Another worker came in behind him, carrying a similar tray. They put the trays on the table. “We’ll be right back,” one of them said. When they returned, they added a tray full of fresh fruit and one of cheese and crackers to the table.
“Was there anything else?” the first man asked.
Mark shook his head. “Sorry for the short notice. Everything looks great.”
Marjorie found paper plates and napkins and passed them around to everyone. A few minutes later a kettle boiled and Marjorie made tea for them as well. For several minutes everyone ate in silence.
“From which restaurant did you get this?” Agnes asked as she reached for a second helping of fruit. “This is exactly what I need for another committee meeting that I’ll be attending soon.”
Mark named a restaurant that had just opened in Castletown, not far from the castle. “They were incredibly accommodating, considering I rang them an hour ago.”
Agnes made a note. “I’m impressed.”
“As am I,” Mary said. “I shall suggest them to Elizabeth for events down here.”
Mary’s daughter, Elizabeth, had recently started a party planning business. At first it sounded as if it would be a fun and easy job for the spoiled only daughter of wealthy parents, but Bessie had quickly discovered that party planning was hard work. Elizabeth had thrown herself into it with enthusiasm though, and thus far she’d impressed Bessie with her dedication and determination. Elizabeth had planned Grace’s baby shower on Bessie and Mary’s behalf and everyone had enjoyed that afternoon a great deal. Now Bessie was trying to find another event for Elizabeth to plan for her, although from what she’d been hearing, Elizabeth was quickly becoming quite busy without any help from Bessie.
When everyone had finished eating, Mark and Marjorie cleared the table.
“If I’m right, we have pudding,” he said, taking the empty trays out of the room. He was back a moment later carrying a tray full of biscuits and other sweet treats.
“My goodness, how lovely,” Mary said.
“It’s much nicer than I was expecting,” Mark told her. “I asked them for a tray of biscuits, with a few slices of cake or whatever they had lying around.”
“If they had all of this lying around, I’m going to have to start dropping in there regularly,” Agnes laughed.
Bessie took two bite-sized pieces of chocolate sponge with chocolate icing, a biscuit, and a tiny jam tart. As everyone else filled plates, she sipped her tea.
“Right, let’s get on with things while we enjoy the puddings,” Mark said. “Everything is going very smoothly, especially compared to last year.” He glanced at Bessie.
“I hope that doesn’t just mean that no one has been murdered yet,” she replied.
“No one has been murdered, but we also haven’t been saddled with a designer who wants to change everything at the last minute, either,” Mark said. He flushed and then cleared his throat. “Obviously, Carolyn was simply doing what she thought was for the best, but it is much easier letting all of our charity partners simply design their own rooms without trying to find a unifying theme.”
The designer, whom Carolyn had hired at her own expense, had ended up murdered and the entire event had nearly had to be cancelled. Bessie hadn’t wanted the man to interfere with the decorating that each charity had done, so she was pleased that nothing similar had happened this year.
Mark quickly ran through a few minor issues, mostly to do with ticket sales and distribution. They briefly debated a few catering options for the auction evening on the last night, reaching a consensus with little difficulty.
“That just leaves our one little problem to discuss,” he said eventually.
“We’ll need to talk fast. I have a plane to catch,” Arabella said.
“One of the charities has decided not to take part after all,” Mark announced. He named the group. “Sadly, they’ve decided that they simply don’t have the time to deal with the decorating and also with staffing the room while the event is happening. I’m certain we were very clear about our expectations when we invited people to apply for rooms. Apparently, they just lost several of their best volunteers. It was a family where the father, mother, and three teenaged children all worked with the charity. The mother unexpectedly got a new job across and they moved rather quickly. That left the charity with far fewer people to help with Christmas at the Castle and their own end-of-year fundraiser. After much debate, they decided that their own event had to take precedence, and they’ve pulled out of Christmas at the Castle.”
“What a shame,” Bessie said. “I really liked the young man who spoke to us during the application process.”
“He was lovely,” Agnes agreed.
“He was the oldest child of the family that left,” Mark said.
“Oh, dear,” Agnes sighed.
“That leaves us with an empty room,” Mark continued. “It’s very short notice to try to fill it, but all of our advertising talks about having ten decorated rooms this year.”
“Can’t we just decorate it?” Arabella asked.
“Manx National Heritage has already done a room,” Mark reminded her. “We’ve also decorated all of the public spaces that will be used during the event. I don’t think anyone at MNH has the time or the energy to do another room. Besides, one of the goals of Christmas at the Castle is to help other island charities. I’d really like to find someone else to fill the empty spot.”
“Do you have a short list of candidates?” Mary asked. “Have you actually spoken to anyone about the space?”
“I haven’t spoken to anyone, but I do have a short list,” Mark replied. “I went back through the list of charities who applied and were turned down. There were three of them that I believed were nearly as good candidates as the ones we accepted.” He named the three groups.
Bessie sat up a bit straighter when he mentioned The Liliana Fund.
“There were reasons why we turned all three of them down,” Mary said. “The first group has an incredibly narrow focus, the second was on the periphery of that scandal in the UK recently, and The Liliana Fund sends nearly all of its money off-island.”
Mark nodded. “You’re right that the Cortlett Fund is entirely focussed on curing a very rare disease, which is why we didn’t select them the first time. As for the scandal in the UK and the second group, there’s been no suggestion that anyone from the island was involved in what was happening, and the local group is now moving towards separating itself from the international organisation and establishing itself independently.”
“And The Liliana Fund?” Bessie asked.
“They do send most of their funding off-island,” Mark admitted. “I did think that we might invite them to take part as long as they agreed to use the funds they get from the event here on the island.”
“Do you think
they’d agree?” Agnes wondered.
“I can’t see why they wouldn’t,” Mark replied. “The island has plenty of people who could use their support, I’m sure.”
“So what’s the next step?” Anabella asked as she rose to her feet.
“We have to decide which charity we’re going to invite to take the empty space. I’ll contact them today, as they’ll need as much time as possible to get the room done,” Mark replied.
“I don’t care whom you invite,” Anabella said as she headed for the door. “I voted for every single charity to be included, and I still think it’s a shame we had to turn so many down. See you soon.” She opened the door and disappeared through it, leaving Mark frowning at her back.
“Let’s take a vote,” Agnes suggested.
A few minutes later, the meeting was over and everyone was heading for the door.
Mark grinned at Bessie, “I’ll take you home after we’re done, if you’ll come with me to talk to Oliver at The Liliana Fund,” he offered.
Chapter 5
“Of course,” Bessie said quickly. A chance to talk to Oliver Preston was not something she wanted to miss.
Mark had to ring a few people before they left, so Bessie wandered around the castle, looking into each room and smiling at the beautiful decorations. It seemed unlikely that anyone would complain if they only had nine rooms to visit on their tour around Christmas at the Castle, she thought.
“Sorry about that,” Mark said a short time later. “Let’s go and see if Oliver is still interested in being a part of things.”
The drive into Douglas didn’t take long. The Liliana Fund had its offices on the ground floor of a small Victorian building not far from the centre of the town. Mark parked on the street and then he and Bessie climbed out of the car.
“Oliver said he’d be in all afternoon,” Mark told Bessie as they walked.
There was a small reception area right inside the door. Bessie sat down on an overstuffed couch while Mark spoke to the receptionist.
“She’s going to ring Oliver and let him know we’re here,” he told Bessie as he sat down beside her.
“Mr. Preston will see you now,” the receptionist said a moment later.
Bessie followed Mark into a short corridor. He knocked on the last door along the hall.
“Ah, Mark, how good to see you,” Oliver said, shaking hands with Mark and smiling brightly at Bessie. “Miss Cubbon, this is an unexpected pleasure.”
“We were working at Castle Rushen together,” Mark explained as Oliver shook Bessie’s hand. He was a tall man with dark brown hair. His dark grey suit fit his athletic frame perfectly. He was wearing a light purple shirt with a darker purple tie that had the charity’s logo woven into it. Bessie knew he was in his mid-forties, but he looked younger.
“Ah, yes, Christmas as the Castle. I’m still terribly disappointed that I didn’t get a room to decorate,” Oliver replied. “Come in and tell me what’s on your minds today, then.”
He ushered them into a small room that looked more like a sitting room than anyone’s office. There was a long couch and several chairs centred around a low table. Bessie and Mark sat together on the couch.
“Can I get either of you a drink?” Oliver asked.
“I’m fine,” Bessie told him.
“Thank you, but no,” Mark said. “We don’t want to take up too much of your valuable time.”
Oliver nodded. “Let me get Dylan, then, and we can get started.”
He opened a door in the corner of the room and disappeared from view. A few minutes later he was back. Dylan Collins was at his heels. Dylan was younger than Oliver, perhaps by as much as ten years. His medium-brown hair fell in a thick tangle almost to his shoulders. Bessie wasn’t sure where he’d purchased his suit, but it certainly hadn’t been tailored for him. The trousers were several inches too long, as were the sleeves on the jacket. He smiled at Bessie and Mark, but he looked almost nervous as he dropped into a chair across from them.
“Good afternoon,” he said, nodding at Bessie and then looking at the ground.
“Good afternoon,” she replied.
Oliver took the chair next to Bessie and rubbed his hands together. “So, what can we do for you?” he asked Mark.
“I’d like to start by offering my condolences,” Bessie said before Mark could speak.
Oliver looked surprised and then frowned. “Thank you, Miss Cubbon. It’s very kind of you to think to say that. Phillip was a very valuable member of our little team and we were all sorry to see him go. I understand you found the body. That must have been a horrific experience for you.”
“I didn’t find the body, actually,” Bessie countered.
“I must have been misinformed,” Oliver said smoothly. “On an island that thrives on skeet, that’s hardly surprising.”
Bessie smiled at the man’s use of the Manx word. Oliver wasn’t from the island originally, although she wasn’t sure where he’d spent his childhood.
“It’s really sad,” Dylan muttered. “I didn’t even know he was back on the island.”
“But you didn’t come to talk to us about Phillip,” Oliver said. “Or rather, I hope you didn’t. Not that I don’t want to discuss him, but I spent hours with the police, telling them everything I could about him. I’m sure your friend, Inspector Rockwell, will tell you everything I said.”
“Inspector Rockwell never tells me anything that he was told in interviews,” Bessie replied.
“Oh, dear. Are you here to ask questions about Phillip, then?” Oliver asked.
“Not at all,” Bessie said. “I simply wanted to offer my condolences.”
Oliver nodded. “It is appreciated. Phillip’s parents must be devastated. I was going to ring them later today, but I’m not certain they’d be interesting in speaking with me. Have you spoken to them?”
“Just briefly. As you say, they’re heart broken,” Bessie replied.
“I simply can’t imagine what Phillip was doing in an empty holiday cottage,” Oliver said. “Do you know if he’d had a falling-out with his family?”
“I don’t believe he had,” Bessie said.
“He must have been avoiding someone,” Dylan suggested. “Maybe that nasty ex of his.”
Oliver sighed. “You know I don’t want you saying negative things about people, even her,” he told Dylan. “She and Phillip had problems, which is what led him to leave the island somewhat unexpectedly, but we only know Phillip’s side of the story.”
“She cheated on him,” Dylan said.
“I didn’t realise he’d left so quickly once he and Nicole ended their relationship,” Bessie said. “That must have left you with difficulties.”
Oliver nodded. “We were right in the middle of our biggest event of the year, so yes, it did cause us some difficulties. I understood, of course. Phillip needed to get away. The island was too small. He kept seeing Nicole or her friends everywhere that he went. I was angry for a short while, but as I said, I understood. I’d like to think that he knew that and would have rung me at some point to let me know he was visiting.”
“Do you have any idea who might have wanted him dead?” Mark asked.
When Bessie looked at him in surprise, he flushed “I was just curious,” he said.
Oliver smiled. “Of course you are. We all are. I’ve never been involved in a murder investigation before. I’ve seen them on telly, but this seems very different to what I’ve seen. In answer to your question, I’ve no idea why poor Phillip was murdered. I hadn’t spoken to him in two years or more. Goodness only knows what he was involved with in the UK.”
“You think someone from across followed him here and killed him?” Bessie asked.
“Or came to the island with him and then killed him,” Oliver replied. “Maybe he brought a girlfriend with him and they had a disagreement about staying in that holiday cottage. That’s one possibility, anyway.”
“I’m not certain that Phillip had recovered from losing Nicole
yet,” Bessie said.
“Perhaps it was something completely random, then,” Oliver said. “I’m sure I heard that some homeless man was standing over the body when it was discovered. Maybe he was staying in the cottage and got upset when he came back and found Phillip in his bed or something.”
“I know the man in question. He wouldn’t hurt a fly,” Bessie said with more confidence about Callum than she actually felt.
“Could have been anyone,” Dylan muttered. “He was probably just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
That seemed obvious under the circumstances, but Bessie refrained from saying as much. After a slightly awkward pause, Mark cleared his throat.
“Right, well, the reason that Bessie and I are here today is to put a proposition to you,” he said. “We’ve had a charity withdraw from Christmas at the Castle, and we were wondering if you’d be interested in stepping into their place.”
Oliver and Dylan exchanged glances. “You aren’t giving us much time to do the decorating,” Oliver complained.
“I only found out a short while ago that the other group was no longer going to be able to take part,” Mark replied.
“I don’t know,” Oliver said. “I can’t remember what the original application said, but there was something about someone having to be at the event every afternoon and evening, wasn’t there?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Mark replied. “A member of the charity’s staff needs to be available in the room during opening hours. Members of the public often have questions about the charity, the decorations, or both.”
“Dylan and I are rather busy at the moment,” Oliver said. “We were going to take someone on part-time if we’d been allocated a room, but when we weren’t, we decided not to bother. Between the two of us, we can just about handle the workload without costing the charity too much money for salaries. It’s too late in the day now to hire someone and get them sufficiently trained before opening night.”
“There’s another caveat, too,” Mark said. “The event should bring in a good deal of money for The Liliana Fund. We’d like you to agree to spend the money raised on the island for people on the island who need your services.”
Aunt Bessie Understands Page 7
