The Moody Case
A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Novella
Diana Xarissa
Text Copyright © 2018 Diana Xarissa
All Rights Reserved
Created with Vellum
Contents
Author’s Note
Letter to Bessie, part one
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Letter to Bessie, part two
Glossary of Terms
Other Notes
Acknowledgments
The Norman Case
Also by Diana Xarissa
About the Author
Author’s Note
This marks the thirteenth title in the Markham sisters novellas. It’s hard not to be a little bit superstitious about that, but unlike a high-rise building that jumps from twelve to fourteen, I can’t simply skip over book thirteen. So here we go. I always suggest reading the books in order (alphabetically), but each story should be enjoyable on its own if you’d prefer not to read them all.
These stories always start and finish with short sections from Janet’s letters to her friend, Bessie Cubbon, in the Isle of Man. Bessie is the protagonist in my Isle of Man Cozy Mystery series, and the sisters first appeared in Aunt Bessie Decides, the fourth book in that series. You don’t need to read that series to enjoy this one, but the sisters and Bessie do cross paths from time to time.
The novellas are set in a fictional village in Derbyshire. I use UK English spellings and terms throughout the story and provide a brief glossary of terms in the back of book for anyone who might need it. The longer I live in the US, the more likely it is that American words will sneak into the text, though. I apologize for this and I try to correct them when they are pointed out to me.
This is a work of fiction and all of the characters are fictional creations. Any resemblance that they may share with any real person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Although some shops or businesses in Doveby Dale may bear some resemblance to real-life businesses, that is also coincidental.
I’ve given all of my contact details at the back of the book. I’d love to hear from you. Please feel free to get in touch.
3 August 1999
Dearest Bessie,
I never seem to have any time to myself anymore. Our little bed and breakfast is proving to be a very popular summer holiday destination for some reason or other. Joan does very little advertising, so I’m not sure how so many people are finding us, but we’ve had guests every night since late June. I’m really looking forward to autumn when we expect things to settle down a bit. Joan and I are too old to be this busy every day.
On top of the revolving door of guests, we’ve had other excitement in Doveby Dale recently as well. It all started when Joan and I were on our way to the grocery shop near Derby. (The one near Doveby Dale is still closed, and they don’t seem to be doing anything towards repairing it, at least not yet.) After this latest series of incidents, I think maybe you should be glad you don’t drive, at least sometimes.
Chapter 1
“I really think we should limit ourselves to only buying what’s on the list today,” Joan said as Janet drove away from Doveby House. “We’ve been eating far too many indulgent things since we returned from our holiday.”
“We’ve been slightly more indulgent than usual,” her younger sister, Janet, agreed, “but only slightly, and I think we deserve it as we’ve been so busy.”
“I put ice cream on the shopping list,” Joan said. “That should be a more than adequate treat for you when the guests are being difficult. We haven’t had any truly difficult guests since the Armstrongs left, anyway.”
“They were the worst, but there have been a few others that have made your list, haven’t there?”
Joan kept a list of names of guests that she didn’t want to have stay at the bed and breakfast again. It wasn’t a very long list, really, partly because they’d only been open for less than a year, but it seemed to have grown rather rapidly during the busy summer season. “At least our current guests are both pleasant enough,” she reminded her sister.
“Otherwise I’d be doing the shopping on my own while you stayed home to deal with them.”
“Yes, well, I still don’t like leaving the house empty when we have guests, but as both parties were planning to be out all day, I thought I should come along and help. You nearly always gets stuck doing the shopping.”
Which is why we end up with a few extra items every time, Janet thought. Joan rarely indulged in anything, from food to wine to new experiences. Janet had a more adventurous spirit and a more casual approach to life.
“I don’t mind doing the shopping,” Janet said. “It gets me out of the house, if nothing else.”
“Do you hate the bed and breakfast?” Joan asked.
Janet thought carefully before she answered. Buying Doveby House and running it as a bed and breakfast had been Joan’s idea from the start. Janet had never known that her sister had always wanted to have her own little bed and breakfast. When an unexpected inheritance had put Joan’s dream in reach, she’d finally told her sister what she truly wanted to do now that the pair were retired. As far as Janet could remember, it was the first and only truly impulsive thing Joan had ever done, and it was important to Janet that her sister be happy with their new life.
“I don’t hate it,” she said after a moment. “I love Doveby House, for a start. Even if my bedroom does have a ghost. Which reminds me, I must try ringing Gretchen Falkirk again. I do wish the woman would get an answering machine.”
Janet was convinced that the ghost of Alberta Montgomery haunted her bedroom. She was woken every time there was a full moon by someone screaming, and from what she’d heard of Alberta’s story, it seemed likely that it was Alberta’s unhappy soul haunting Doveby House. Janet was doing what she could to learn more about Alberta, and Gretchen Falkirk had actually known the woman, who had died over sixty years previously. Unfortunately, Gretchen never seemed to answer her phone when Janet rang.
“You’re changing the subject,” Joan said. “How do you feel about the bed and breakfast?”
“Summer is proving busier than…” Janet began. She stopped suddenly when their car was hit from behind. The loud thud startled her.
“My goodness,” Joan exclaimed. “We’ve been rear-ended.”
Janet pulled the car to the side of the road and switched it off. She and Joan both climbed out and walked back to speak to the other driver.
“You stopped right in front of me,” the short, bald man snapped as they approached.
“I stopped for the stop sign,” Janet replied, gesturing towards the sign that was right next to the man.
“I didn’t see it,” he told her.
“Or us,” Joan suggested.
“I saw you. I just didn’t think you’d stop at random that way.”
“As I said, it wasn’t random at all,” Janet said, trying to keep calm.
“Whatever,” the man shrugged. He glanced at their car and then his. “The damage doesn’t look too bad, anyway.”
Janet and Joan turned to look at their car. There was a large dent in the bumper, but it didn’t look as if any of the lights had been damaged, at least.
“It could have been a lot worse,” Janet said. “We just need to exchange insurance information.”
“Yeah, um, well, I’d rather not do that,” the man said. He looked left and right and then pulled out his wallet. “Here, here’s a hundred pounds. That should take care of everything.” He held out the money.
&
nbsp; “I’m sorry, but we don’t know enough about cars to accept your offer,” Joan said. “I’ve no idea if you’ve done a hundred pounds worth of damage or a thousand. We’re going to have to contact our insurance company.”
“A thousand? Now you’re trying to take advantage of me,” the man said angrily. “It was a minor bump. Your garage can have that repaired in five minutes. Take the hundred and let’s be done with this. I have to be somewhere.”
“We’ll take your insurance information and then you can be on your way,” Joan said in her strictest teacher voice.
“Okay, two hundred, but that’s all I’m offering. You can take it or you can leave it, but I’m going now,” the man said. He counted out the money and then held it out towards them as he began walking back towards his car. “Last chance,” he said.
Janet pulled out her mobile phone and dialled a number. She was relieved when she was answered immediately.
“Robert? It’s Janet Markham. Joan and I were just rear-ended by another car and the owner doesn’t want to share his insurance information with us. I thought he had to do so, but I wanted to check with you on that.”
“He is required to give you his details,” Robert said. “Read me his number plate.”
Janet read off the letters and numbers from the man’s plate.
“Who are you talking to? Stop that. I’m trying to be reasonable here, but you aren’t making it easy,” the man shouted. He stepped closer to Janet so that he was almost screaming in her face. “I’ve offered you fair compensation. You’re trying to cheat me out of more money, that’s what it is.”
“Perhaps I’d better speak to the man,” Robert said. “Where are you?”
“At the stop sign at the corner of the village,” Janet replied.
“I’m on my way. I was already in the car, so it won’t take me long to get there. While you’re waiting for me, you might remind the man that it is against the law to leave the scene of an accident.”
“The police are on their way,” Janet said after she’d dropped her phone back in her handbag.
“The police?” The man jumped into his car and started the engine. Janet and Joan moved quickly to get out of the way as he put the car into gear. “You should have taken the money,” he said harshly through his open window.
“Leaving the scene of an accident is illegal,” Janet replied, “and the police have your number plate.”
The man hesitated and then hit the gas. He started to drive right through the stop sign, but was forced to slam on his brakes to accommodate a car travelling across the junction. Unluckily for him, it was Robert’s car. Robert slid to a stop right in front of the man, blocking his way.
As Robert, in full uniform, began to climb out of his car, the other man jumped out of his and began to shout.
“This is ridiculous. No one was injured. We don’t need the police,” he yelled.
Robert raised an eyebrow and then looked from the man to Janet and Joan and then back again. “You’ve given the ladies your contact details and insurance information and collected theirs?” he asked in a level voice.
“Well, no, not exactly,” the man said, “but it was just a fender bender, and I offered to pay for the damage to their car. They were being unreasonable, that’s all.”
“And you were driving away when I arrived,” Robert said.
“I was just, um, I have an appointment, you see. I need to get to, um, Derby, right away,” the man stammered.
“I’m afraid you’re going to be late for your appointment,” Robert replied. “If you need to ring anyone, I can wait.”
“No, no, that’s okay. I’ll sort it out later.”
Robert shrugged. “If I could see your driving license and insurance paperwork, then, please?”
The man flushed and then pulled out his wallet. He handed Robert his license. “I need to get the insurance paperwork from the glove box,” he muttered before climbing back into the car.
Janet found herself inching closer to Robert as the man dug around in his glove box. When she glanced back at Joan, Joan was frowning at her.
“Janet,” Robert said, “do you have your insurance information?”
Janet nodded and then opened her car door. The insurance card was in the glove box, right on top. She got back out and handed it to Robert. He added her information to the form he was completing.
“You two know each other?” the man asked as he handed his insurance card to Robert.
“I know everyone in Doveby Dale,” Robert replied. “It’s part of my job. That’s how I know you aren’t from the village.”
“I’m just visiting,” the man snapped, “and I won’t be staying long, not if these two women are typical village residents.”
“You ran into them and tried to flee the scene of the accident,” Robert said. “I’m not surprised that they were upset.”
“I offered them more than enough money to cover the damages,” the man replied. “They insisted on ringing for the police, completely unnecessarily.”
“As you refused to give them your information, Mr. Moody, I don’t think it was unnecessary at all,” Robert countered. “Janet and Joan Markham, this is Thomas Moody, by the way. Mr. Moody, these are the Markham sisters. They own a bed and breakfast in Doveby Dale.”
“Great, wonderful, whatever,” the man said. “Can I go now?”
“I just need to take note of the damage that was caused. Would you like to give me your version of what happened?” he asked the man.
“I was driving along on unfamiliar roads when the car in front of me stopped suddenly. I was unable to stop in time to avoid tapping their rear bumper. The damage that I caused is minimal, however.”
Robert made a few notes and then turned to Janet. “Who was driving?” he asked.
“I was. Mr. Moody began to follow us at the junction after the shops in the centre of the village. He fell back a bit just before the stop sign, but then, well, he drove into the back of the car when I stopped,” she replied.
Robert checked the front of Mr. Moody’s car before looking at the back of Janet’s. “I’ve seen much worse, but you’ll need to get a proper estimate for the repair work. It always surprises me how much these things can cost.”
“Are we finished?” Mr. Moody said harshly.
“I believe we are,” Robert said. “Let me move my car, and you can be on your way.”
The man stomped back to his car while Robert returned to his in a more leisurely fashion. As soon as the police car was through the junction, Mr. Moody raced across it and disappeared down the road.
“He didn’t stop for the stop sign,” Janet said as Robert parked and walked back to rejoin the sisters.
“You should talk to your insurance company right away,” Robert said. “Here’s a copy of the police report for you to reference. I’ll put Mr. Moody’s copy in the post to him. If you have any questions or concerns, please let me know.”
“I hope it will be a simple and inexpensive repair,” Janet said. “Mr. Moody offered us two hundred pounds. Do you think we should have taken it?”
Robert looked at their bumper again. “I suspect you’re going to need a new bumper. That’s going to run you a good deal more than two hundred pounds.”
“It’s a good thing you were able to get here so quickly. Thank you,” Joan said.
“Always happy to be of service,” he replied. He walked back over to his car and drove away.
“Are you okay to drive?” Joan asked.
“Of course,” Janet replied. “The accident wasn’t my fault, after all.”
Chapter 2
“I think you may need a new bumper,” Mack Fenton told Janet and Joan the next day. “It’s a pretty deep dent. I doubt anything else has been damaged, but replacing the bumper will cost a fair bit.”
“The insurance company is paying, so we want the job done right,” Joan replied.
Mack nodded. “I can give you the estimates today for repairing the existing bumper and
for replacing it. I won’t know until I take the bumper off whether a repair is possible, though.”
“Give us both and we’ll talk to our insurance company,” Janet said. “They’re being incredibly helpful because the accident wasn’t our fault. They’ll be getting repaid by the other party’s insurance.”
Mack nodded. “I’ll need about an hour to get those estimates for you. Do you want to borrow a car to go and do something while I’m working on them?”
Janet glanced around the small garage. There were three bays for cars, each with its own garage door. Besides that, there was a tiny office for Mack and not much else. There was definitely no place to sit and wait for an hour.
“I think we’ll probably need to borrow a car, yes,” she said.
“You can borrow any car I have,” Mack told her. “Go and see what’s out there and then let me know which set of keys you need.”
There were a dozen or so cars parked in the car park outside the garage. They all had “for sale” stickers on them. Janet walked back and forth, looking at each one in turn.
“How about this one?” she asked Joan, waving at a little red sporty two-seater.
“I don’t think that’s very practical,” Joan replied.
“It isn’t, but it’s only for an hour. We can just take it for a drive and then come back.”
“We were going to go and look for a lamp,” Joan reminded her. “If we find one, I’m not sure it would fit into that car.”
Janet grinned. Joan was probably right, but that didn’t stop her from wanting to drive the unsuitable car. They truly did need a lamp, though, as a guest had recently broken one from the smaller of the guest rooms.
The Moody Case Page 1
