The Bennett Case (A Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery Book 2)

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by Diana Xarissa




  The Bennett Case

  A Markham Sisters Cozy

  Mystery Novella

  Diana Xarissa

  Text Copyright © 2015 Diana Xarissa

  All Rights Reserved

  For everyone who loves to read, everywhere.

  Acknowledgements

  I am always so grateful to the many people who devote their time and energy to help make my books the best they can be.

  Thank you to my editor, Denise, who patiently corrects my grammar and punctuation mistakes, time and time again.

  Thank you to my beta readers, Janice and Charlene, who offer insightful feedback on my early drafts.

  And mostly, thank you to my readers. You are why I do this! I’d love to hear from you. My contact details are in the back of the book.

  Table of Contents

  Acknowledgements

  Author’s Note

  Letter to Bessie (part one)

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Letter to Bessie (part two)

  Glossary of Terms

  Other Notes

  By the same author

  About the Author

  Author’s Note

  Welcome to the second novella in the Markham Sisters Cozy Mystery series. You don’t have to read the books in the series in order, but the characters will develop as the series goes along, so I recommend that you do. Like the Bessie series, the novellas will be alphabetical.

  The Markham sisters first appeared in Aunt Bessie Decides, book four in my Isle of Man Cozy Mysteries series. Since Janet has stayed in touch with Bessie now that the sisters have returned to Derbyshire, each book opens and closes with Janet’s letters to Bessie. You don’t need to read the Bessie books to enjoy this series, however. The letters to Bessie provide an introduction and conclusion to each “case” but really have nothing to do with the Bessie books.

  As with the Isle of Man Cozy series, I’ve used English spellings and terms and have provided a glossary and notes in the back of the book for readers outside of the United Kingdom. The longer I live in the US, the greater the chances are that Americanisms may slip into the text, and I do apologise for any that have snuck past me.

  This is a work of fiction and all of the characters are a creation of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance that they may share with any real person, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. The village in Derbyshire where the sisters live (Doveby Dale) is also fictional. Some of the shops and restaurants may bear a coincidental resemblance to some real-life counterpart, but that is wholly unintentional.

  2 September 1998

  Dearest Bessie,

  It sounds as if you’ve been having quite a difficult time of things lately and I urge you once again to come and stay with us for a while. We are still busy working towards getting the bed and breakfast up and running, but we could certainly accommodate you at any time. Just let me know when to expect you.

  After the excitement we had when we first arrived, Joan and I have been enjoying the quiet pace of life in a small village. We’ve been redecorating and fixing up the two guest rooms in the house, ready for paying guests at some point in the future.

  Things were moving along quite nicely last month until we had a very unexpected visitor. Little did we know that his arrival was just the first in what would begin to feel like a rush in newcomers to the neighbourhood.

  Chapter One

  “I think the guest rooms are as ready as they’ll ever be,” Janet said over breakfast on a sunny morning in the middle of August.

  “I’d like to hang some paintings on the walls,” Joan replied.

  “It would be nice to use local artists. I wonder if there’s a local gallery nearby.”

  Joan shrugged. “I suppose I could ask Michael over lunch,” she said casually.

  Janet grinned. “Why don’t you do that?” she replied.

  Janet resisted the temptation to tease Joan about her lunch date. Her older sister had only just begun dating for the first time a few weeks earlier. As the two women were in their sixties, Janet tried hard to resist doing too much of the sort of teasing she might have done when they’d been in their teens.

  After the breakfast dishes had been washed and put away, the two women climbed the stairs. They’d only owned Doveby House for a little more than a month. Joan was the more eager of the two to begin running the small manor house as a bed and breakfast. The former owner had apparently been quite successful at doing so, and Joan was keen to emulate her success.

  “I think we need a nice painting on this wall,” Joan told Janet, gesturing towards the only wall in the smaller guest room that didn’t have a window or a large furniture piece along it.

  “You could be right,” Janet said, looking around the room. “I’m surprised Margaret Appleton didn’t have any art in the guest rooms.”

  “Maybe she did and the trust that inherited the property removed the pictures before they sold us the house,” Joan suggested.

  The sisters moved across the hall to the larger guest room.

  “This room needs a large painting on that wall and a smaller one over here,” Joan announced, showing her sister where she wanted them.

  “See what Michael says,” Janet replied. “If there’s a local gallery that showcases local artists, that should be our first stop.”

  “Perhaps we could find a local artist who would like to loan us his or her work in the hopes that someone might buy something,” Joan said thoughtfully.

  “That’s a great idea,” Janet said. “And it would save us some money as well.”

  The sisters had been able to purchase Doveby House thanks to a small inheritance and the sale of the cottage they used to own. While they were both generally frugal with money, they’d spent a great deal of it in getting the house fixed up and ready for guests. A few paying customers, at least now and then, were starting to sound better and better to both sisters.

  “Otherwise, the rooms look good,” Janet said as they walked back down the stairs. “As does the rest of the house.”

  They’d had every room painted and had much of the furniture, which had been included in the sale of the home, reupholstered or refinished.

  “We should do something with the library,” Joan said, opening the door to the small room that was tucked into a corner at the back of the property.

  Janet stepped into the library and sighed deeply. She’d refused to consider doing anything in this room. The shelves were crammed full of books that had apparently been positioned in a completely haphazard fashion. Organising the library was on Janet’s mental list of jobs and she wanted to do it all herself.

  “I’ll get around to it,” she told her sister now. “I’m saving it for a rainy day.”

  “More like a rainy month,” Joan replied. “It’s going to take some considerable time for you to take all of the books down and clean properly. That needs to be done before you even think about reorganising the shelves.”

  Janet frowned. Joan was right, but she wouldn’t be rushed. The library was her favourite place in the whole world, even as it was. She would make it perfect, eventually, but there was no rush. Their guests wouldn’t be coming to look at books anyway; they’d be coming to explore Derbyshire.

  “Don’t you need to ring the doctor about your knee?” Janet asked her sister, hoping to change the subject.

  “Oh, yes, I
suppose I do,” Joan replied with a sigh. Both sisters were in excellent health, but Joan had tripped on a loose bit of carpet a few days earlier and twisted her knee. The pain didn’t seem to be getting better, so she’d finally agreed she ought to let a doctor have a look at it.

  With Joan out of the room, Janet ran her fingers lovingly along one of the shelves. She counted slowly to ten and then pulled out the book closest to her hand.

  “Jack Spry, Extraordinary Spy,” she read off the cover. She flipped it open and checked the copyright date. The book had been published in 1957. She read a few paragraphs of the first chapter and then shook her head. Clearly the author had read some of Ian Fleming’s books and decided to try to write something similar.

  The book opened with Jack romancing a beautiful blonde woman. As Janet read on, Jack drank and flirted, while at the same time he was eavesdropping on a conversation across the room, thanks to a sophisticated listening device he conveniently had with him. Janet shut the book as Jack led the blonde up to his room, stopping on the way to inform the bartender, who was also apparently a spy, all about the top secret plans that the men on the other side of the room had just made.

  She slid the book back into its place and sighed. Not every book in the room was going to be wonderful, she knew that, but it seemed that most of her random selections lately had been disappointing. She’d never realised how many truly awful books had been published.

  “Janet? Are you still in the library?”

  Janet gave up on finding another book and headed out to find her sister.

  “I’m coming,” she called back, heading towards the kitchen. She ran into her sister in the corridor.

  “Ah, there you are,” Joan said. “The doctor has an opening in his schedule now, so I’m going to pop over and get this knee looked at. I’m sure I’ll be there for ages, so I’ve told Michael that I’ll meet him at the restaurant rather than having him collect me here. I’ll see you sometime this afternoon, after my lunch with Michael.”

  “Good luck with the doctor, and have fun at lunch,” Janet told her. “Ring me if you need anything.”

  “You don’t mind me taking the car, do you?”

  “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere,” Janet assured her. “There’s plenty in the kitchen for my lunch. I think I might start working on the library while you’re out.”

  As the sisters had always worked at the same primary school together, they’d only ever owned one car that they shared. It hadn’t been a problem before they’d both retired, but now Janet was starting to think that she’d quite like a little car of her own. Today she really didn’t mind her sister taking the car, though. She really did want to spend some time in the library, even if all she accomplished was finding a good book to read.

  “Good. I’ll see you later this afternoon, then,” Joan said. “Perhaps, instead of the library, you’d like to spend some time sorting through all the paperwork from the bed and breakfast,” she called back over her shoulder as she headed towards her room.

  “Perhaps not,” Janet muttered as Joan disappeared into the large owner’s suite. Along with furniture and books, the house had also contained several boxes of paperwork when they’d purchased it. Both sisters knew that they should take the time to sort through it all. No doubt it would provide useful information for them as they prepared to reopen to paying guests. Already they’d had a handful of letters and phone calls from former guests, requesting bookings. Both sisters were reluctant to accept any until they’d been through the papers, though.

  “There might be a list of former guests who were difficult or unpleasant,” Janet had pointed out to her sister the last time the subject had come up. “We don’t want to open our home to just anyone.”

  Joan had agreed, but now she’d taken to reminding Janet of the need to sort the papers nearly every day. When Janet suggested that Joan could start the task, Joan always found something more pressing that needed doing, generally in the kitchen.

  As Joan was an excellent cook and baker, she’d always done all of the food preparation for them both. Now that she was dating, however, Janet found herself on her own for meals more often than usual. She hadn’t mentioned it to Joan yet, but Janet was finding that she quite liked doing a bit of cooking now and then. Of course, some of that was probably due to her tendency to cook only her very favourite things, often conveniently forgetting to add the vegetables that her big sister always insisted on including in every meal.

  Today Joan had left a bowl of soup in the refrigerator for Janet, so Janet simply had to reheat it when she got hungry.

  Janet sat down in the comfortable sitting room and picked up the book she’d left on the coffee table. She read a few paragraphs, but it really wasn’t holding her interest. Putting her finger in the book to hold her place, she sat back and stared out the nearest window at a beautiful summer day.

  “Janet, I’m going now,” Joan said from the doorway. “I’ve left a box of papers on the kitchen table with the blank file folders. I’m sure the sorting won’t take that long once you get started.”

  She was gone before Janet could reply. Janet stuck her tongue out at her anyway. Then she put a bookmark in her book and put it back on the table, reluctantly heading to the kitchen. Joan had put the box at the place where Janet habitually sat, spreading file folders across the rest of the table. Janet would have to move things around in order to eat her lunch.

  And while I’m at it, I may as well do a bit of sorting, Janet thought, knowing that was exactly what Joan had envisioned.

  An hour later, Janet had a half-empty box and a pile of neatly labelled file folders. Most of what she’d found had been old utility bills, receipts for purchases of everything from groceries to furniture, and bank and credit card statements. A few notes from former guests had proven more interesting, although ultimately fairly useless. Janet had put them all in a separate folder and now she read through it a second time.

  Maggie, Thanks for a lovely time, as ever. Yours, Dave.

  Maggie, Doveby House is gorgeous, thanks for sharing it with us. See you next year, Bob and Sue.

  Maggie, We had a wonderful time at Doveby House. You’ll be seeing us again. Matt and Dawn.

  There were a handful more, but they were all similarly short and had all been signed with only Christian names. Janet set the file folders to one side and put the box on the counter. She knew that there were several more boxes like it in the small storage closet in the sitting room, but now it was time for more pressing concerns, like lunch.

  She heated her soup and ate it with a slice of crusty bread smothered in butter. Joan tutted when she put too much butter on her bread, but Joan wasn’t home to notice. Janet glanced down at her curvy hips and thought for a moment that she was lucky her sister didn’t go out more often. She’d probably gain a great deal of weight if Joan wasn’t around to nag her to eat healthily.

  After eating, she washed up her lunch dishes, drying them and putting them away. Sorting more paperwork held no appeal for her, but she wasn’t really in the mood for poking around in the library either. The sun was shining brightly and Janet thought it would be the perfect afternoon to sit in their garden and enjoy the weather. She was heading towards the conservatory, to go out through the French doors there, when she heard someone knocking.

  “Ah, but you aren’t Maggie,” the man who was standing on the small porch said when Janet pulled the door open. “But never mind, I guess the important thing is that I’m here. I can wait a little while longer to see my Maggie.”

  Janet opened her mouth and then snapped it shut again as she studied the new arrival. He appeared to be somewhere in his sixties, with short grey hair and light grey eyes. He was taller than Janet, but most people were. This man was maybe five feet seven or eight. His dark grey suit looked to have been tailor-made to fit his still athletic build.

  Janet took all of this in as quickly as she could, all the while ignoring the one thing that her brain was most concerned about. Next
to the man on the small porch were a number of large suitcases.

  Chapter Two

  While Janet stood there, trying to figure out what to say to the man on the doorstep, he grabbed one of his cases and smiled at her.

  “This is the heavy one. Grab whatever you can manage and then I’ll come back for the rest.”

  With that, he stepped around Janet and strode into the house as if he owned the place. Janet grabbed the smallest of his bags and followed him into the sitting room, suddenly finding her voice.

  “Oh, but you can’t, that is, we aren’t open for business yet,” she told him.

  He ignored her and returned to the porch where he picked up the last of his bags. He stopped and carefully shut and locked the door before returning to the sitting room.

  “Am I to stay in the purple room again?” he asked brightly.

  “No, that is, you aren’t to stay at all,” Janet said in her firmest voice. “We aren’t open for business, you see.”

  “Oh, but Maggie will sort it all out,” the man said with a wave of his hand. “She always has room for me. I’m sure she has something in mind.”

  “I’m rather certain she doesn’t,” Janet said coolly. “Mrs. Appleton passed away some months ago.”

  The man stared at her for a moment, the colour draining from his face. “Maggie’s, but, Maggie’s dead?” he muttered.

  Janet found herself pushing him into a chair. “I’m sorry if this comes as something of a shock,” she said, not really feeling sorry for him in the slightest.

  “It’s a huge shock,” the man told her. “I think maybe a cup of tea….” he trailed off and gave Janet what she assumed was a hopeful look.

  “I think you need to figure out where you’re going to stay before you worry about tea,” Janet said, unwilling to leave the man alone while she fixed the tea. She was worried he might start unpacking if she turned her back.

 

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