“And how much does Marcus being here play a part in your decision to go?”
“I don’t know,” Laura shrugged. “If the job hadn’t come up, I wouldn’t have gone looking for something else, but, well, it’s a good job, doing what I love and working with a woman who was a good friend.”
“It sounds perfect,” Bessie said.
“I am relieved to be getting away from Marcus, as well,” Laura added. “It’s certainly a bonus.”
The waiter delivered their tea and teacakes, and Bessie took a few sips of tea before she spoke again. “I’ve met Marcus,” she said casually.
“I’m surprised I haven’t seen him,” Laura told her. “It’s such a small island, after all, and we’re neighbours.”
“He told me that he doesn’t know where you live.”
“But I got a letter from him,” Laura argued. “Don’t tell me he denied sending the letter.”
“No, he didn’t. But he told me that he’d sent it through your solicitor. He said he doesn’t have your address.”
“I suppose that’s possible,” Laura said.
“Did the letter come in an envelope from your solicitor?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Well, you can check when you get home,” Bessie told her. “If it did get forwarded by your solicitor, that should make you feel better.”
“I burned it,” Laura said flatly.
“The envelope?”
“The envelope and the letter. I didn’t want anything that might remind me of Marcus.”
Bessie sighed. “I can understand that,” she said, thinking the woman had been foolish. If Marcus had done anything to hurt her, that letter might have been important evidence towards any charges against him.
“Anyway, I’m probably leaving soon, so it doesn’t much matter.”
“I’m sure Henry will miss you.”
“I’m not,” Laura replied. “We had some fun together, but, well, things have been difficult for a while. He’s, well, it doesn’t matter. Let’s just say things weren’t going well and I think he’s actually a little bit relieved to have a reason to end it.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Bessie said. “Although it might be for the best, if you’re leaving anyway.”
“I’m sure it is,” the woman said firmly.
Bessie nibbled at her teacake as Laura did the same. It seemed to Bessie that making the decision to leave the island had given Laura new confidence. She didn’t seem to be afraid of Marcus any longer.
“The police are still trying to work out what happened to Julie Randall,” Bessie said after a moment. “Do you still think Marcus killed her by mistake?”
“I’ve no idea,” Laura replied. “Maybe not, though. I’m sure if he had the chance, he’d take a swing at me, but stabbing someone isn’t the same as hitting someone. It’s hard for me to see Marcus killing anyone in cold blood.”
Bessie nodded. “So maybe the killer really did mean to kill Julie.”
“Maybe.”
“Did you know her?” Bessie asked idly.
“I’d met her. We were sometimes mistaken for one another, especially from a distance, so one day she came up to my flat to introduce herself. Apparently some man had just stopped her on the promenade to ask her about Castle Rushen because he thought he recognised her from there. But that sort of thing happened all the time. Julie’s own husband thought I was her once, from a distance.”
“When I saw her photo on the front page of the paper, I thought it was you for a moment,” Bessie said.
“The last time it happened was the night she died,” Laura told her. “Of course, I didn’t know that at the time, but I was walking through the alley behind the building and some woman shouted ‘Julie’ at me. I shook my head and kept going.”
“What woman?” Bessie asked curiously.
“I don’t know. She was heavyset and probably in her fifties. I didn’t get a good look at her. I think she must have been cutting through the alley. Anyway, it was getting dark.”
“Did you tell the police about it?”
“The police? No, why?”
“Because they’re trying to work out exactly who was in that alley and when,” Bessie explained patiently.
“Oh, this was hours before the murder,” Laura said airily. “I told the police that I’d come in through that door around six. They didn’t ask me anything else.”
Bessie nodded, her mind racing again. Could the killer have been waiting in the alley for four or more hours? “I think you should tell Pete about the woman,” she told Laura. “Maybe he could show you a few photos to see if you recognise her.”
“Maybe,” Laura shrugged. “But for now I should get back to work.” She stood up and waved to their waiter. “I’ll get this,” she said to Bessie as Bessie reached for her handbag. “I’m so grateful to you for all of your support while I’ve been here. You’ve been a good friend.”
“I’ve enjoyed getting to know you,” Bessie said. “We should do this again before you leave, if you can find the time.”
“Yes, let’s,” Laura agreed. She paid the waiter and then walked out of the room, leaving Bessie staring behind her.
Bessie gathered up her bag and then rose to her feet. She really needed to talk to John or Pete. As she was already in Douglas, maybe she should simply stop at the nearest police station. They would track Pete down for her and she could tell him everything that she’d learned. Deciding that that was as good a plan as any, Bessie made her way out of the café and out of the museum.
The nearest station wasn’t far away; in fact, it was just past the bank on the same side of the street. Bessie wondered, as she crossed the road in front of the building, whether Annabelle was working today. As she walked past, she glanced through the large plate glass window. Alan Rossini was standing at the counter, frowning down at one of the women that Bessie had met at the memorial service. An angry-looking customer was standing in front of the counter waving his arms. Bessie kept walking, but then had to stop for a car that was turning into the car park. When Bessie saw the driver, she waved.
“Mr. Harris? How are you today?” she called as the man stepped out of his car.
“Oh, hello,” he said. “I’m very well, thank you. How are you?”
“I’m fine, thanks. You don’t remember me, do you?”
The man flushed. “I’m terribly sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t. I’m sure I must have met you at Julie’s memorial service, but the last week or more has been something of a blur.”
“I understand,” Bessie said. “I’m Elizabeth Cubbon. I knew Julie when she was a child in Laxey.” Bessie was sure she didn’t imagine the man’s slight stiffening when she said the word Laxey.
“Of course, yes, now I remember,” he said.
“I was surprised to see you in Laxey yesterday,” Bessie continued, keeping her tone light.
“I’m afraid you’re mistaken,” he replied stiffly. “I wasn’t in Laxey yesterday. If I’m honest, I can’t remember the last time I was in Laxey.”
“Really? I was sure that was you that I saw,” Bessie said. “You were with Mary Landers.”
The colour drained from the man’s face and he stared at Bessie for a moment. “I wasn’t, that is, I’m sure you’re mistaken,” he said after a long pause. “That is, I don’t believe I know anyone by that name.”
Bessie smiled. “You must have a doppelganger,” she said. “I was just talking to another friend of mine about just that very thing.”
“Yes, perhaps.”
“It was my friend, Laura, actually,” Bessie continued. “She was constantly being mistaken for Julie Randall, right up until the night Julie died.”
“Ah, yes, I believe Humphrey mentioned that there was a woman who looked like Julie that lived in their building.”
“Yes, and scarily, she was in the alley the night Julie died,” Bessie told him. “As she was going inside, someone shouted ‘Julie’ at her, but she didn’t reply. I don’t t
hink she made the connection, but I told her that it was probably the murderer.”
The man pressed his lips together for a moment and took a deep breath through his nose. “Did she see the person?” he asked.
“Not clearly. It was already dark in the alley. I’ve told her she must talk to the police, though. Just in case it was the murderer.”
“Does she know if it was a man or a woman?”
Bessie hesitated. She didn’t want to put Laura in any danger, and if she was right, Sidney already knew exactly who was in the alley and why she was there. “I don’t know. I didn’t think to ask,” Bessie exclaimed. “She just said that someone called Julie’s name. I’m sure the police will ask her, though.”
“Yes, of course they will,” the man replied. “Will you excuse me?”
Bessie nodded. “I hope everything is okay,” she said.
“It’s fine,” he muttered as he headed for the bank’s front door. “Just fine.”
After watching him walk through the door, Bessie continued on her way. She was at the police station only a moment later. When she asked for Pete, the woman behind the desk gave her a surprised look.
“How did you know that the inspector was here today?” she asked Bessie.
“I didn’t know,” Bessie grinned. “I was just hoping someone could track him down for me.”
Pete escorted Bessie into a small conference room a moment later. As soon as she was seated, Bessie sighed.
“I have many things to tell you,” she said. “But I want tell them to you out of order, because I’m a little bit worried about Laura.”
“Go ahead,” Pete said.
Bessie told the man what Laura had told her about the night that Julie had died. He frowned when she was done.
“We had a constable go door to door, talking to everyone in the building. She didn’t mention that to him.”
“I’m afraid I mentioned it to Sidney Harris,” Bessie said sheepishly. She took a deep breath and then repeated that part of the conversation that she’d had with Sidney. When she was done, Pete pulled out his mobile.
“I want Laura Meyers brought in for questioning immediately,” he told someone. “She’s at the Manx Museum. Ring me back when she’s in the building.”
“I didn’t mean to put her in any danger,” Bessie said. “I just couldn’t seem to stop talking with Sidney while I had the chance.”
“So you’re assuming that Stephanie was the woman in the alley who called to Laura,” Pete guessed. “And you think that Sidney knows she was there.”
“And I think that she killed Julie when Julie finally got home many hours later,” Bessie added. “Sidney must know. He’s her alibi.”
Pete nodded. “Once I’ve spoken to Laura, I’ll have Sidney and Stephanie brought in as well. It would be wonderful if Laura could identify her as the woman she saw in the alley. Thank you.”
“There’s a little bit more,” Bessie said. “I met the woman who was at the cottage in Laxey with Sidney yesterday. I mentioned that to Sidney as well.”
Pete took more notes as Bessie told him about how she’d come to meet Mary Landers and how Sidney had reacted to the woman’s name.
“If he’s been having an affair with Mary Landers, why did Julie get killed?” Pete asked when she was finished.
“I’ve no idea,” Bessie sighed.
“I’m going to have to add Ms. Landers to the list of people I need to speak with,” the man said. “It will be interesting to hear what she has to say about yesterday, anyway.”
“I don’t know if I’ve helped any or not,” Bessie said.
“”Oh, you’ve definitely helped,” Pete told her. “I now have new information to discuss with just about every suspect in the case. I’m looking forward to having another session with Sidney Harris. He’s been, well, he hasn’t been the most pleasant man to deal with. I just hope I can get some information out of Mary Landers first.”
“She seemed like a nice person,” Bessie said. “Even if she is involved with a married man.”
“And using property that doesn’t belong to her to meet with him,” Pete reminded her.
“Yes, there is that,” Bessie frowned. “But besides those two things, she seemed really nice.”
Pete shrugged. “I’m not sure she’ll be able to keep her job if the whole story comes out,” he said.
“No, and I don’t suppose she should, really.”
“But I’m far more interested in solving a murder than anything else,” Pete said.
His mobile buzzed. He glanced at the screen and smiled at Bessie. “Laura is here, although apparently she isn’t very happy.”
“Oh, dear. I hope I can sneak out without her seeing me,” Bessie replied. “Although she’ll know that I’m the one who told you about the woman in the alley, so she’ll probably never speak to me again.”
“She should have made the connection and told the constable who questioned her what she saw,” Pete said. “Although I put more of the blame on the constable than on her. He should have asked the right questions.”
“I’m glad I found you in this station today,” Bessie said as Pete escorted her out of the building.
“I’m not usually here, but I had a meeting with one of the vice presidents at the bank next door to talk about Julie and the recent audit. It seemed easier to just stay here and get some paperwork done after that meeting than go back to my own office.”
Bessie walked out of the building and then stood and took several deep breaths of fresh air. The conference room hadn’t felt anything like a prison cell, but she still felt as if she’d just escaped from confinement. Shaking her head at her foolishness, she continued on her way, once again glancing into the bank as she went. She smiled instinctively when her eyes met Sidney Harris’s. A moment later he was rushing towards the door.
“Mrs. Cubbon, wasn’t it?” he called from the doorway. “Could I have a moment of your time?”
Bessie stopped and glanced back over her shoulder, hoping that perhaps Pete or someone else from the police was watching. There was no one in sight.
“Please, I only need a minute,” the man said, his voice pleading.
Crossing the car park, Bessie reassured herself that she wouldn’t be in any danger inside the bank. There were dozens of staff and several customers there. Forcing herself to smile, Bessie followed the man through the door and into the bank’s lobby.
“Hello, Bessie,” Annabelle called from behind her counter.
Bessie felt even more comfortable now. Sidney frowned.
“Let’s go talk in one of the offices,” he said. He led her through the lobby and behind the counters. The door led into a short corridor and Bessie found herself looking around with interest. She’d never been behind the scenes at a bank before.
“We can talk in here,” Sidney said, ushering Bessie into a tiny office. One entire wall was made of glass, so Bessie felt quite happy settling into the chair in front of the desk that took up most of the room. The man dropped into the large chair behind the desk and sighed deeply.
“Are you okay?” Bessie asked.
Sidney shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he snapped. “And I suspect things are going to get a lot worse before they get better.”
A dozen different replies sprang into Bessie’s mind, but she bit her tongue, waiting to see what the man would say next. It felt like several minutes passed before he spoke again.
“I wanted to explain to you about Mary,” he said. “And about my little visit to Laxey yesterday.”
“You don’t need to explain anything to me,” Bessie said quickly.
“I don’t want you to have the wrong idea about me, or about Mary,” the man countered. “When I saw you walking past, I thought I should catch you and explain.”
Again Bessie was tempted to reply, but she kept her lips pressed together. She was eager to get the man to say whatever he needed to say so that she could be on her way.
“Mary and I are friends,” the
man said. “I, my wife and I, that is, you know, maybe I shouldn’t…” he trailed off.
Bessie turned in her chair and watched as several people made their way up and down the corridor. A man stopped at the door to the office she was in and frowned. He raised his hand, as if to knock. Bessie glanced at Sidney as he waved the new arrival away.
“I didn’t think this would be so difficult,” Sidney said. “My wife and I have been having problems for years. She fell ill, and once she’d recovered physically, well, she’d changed. We’ve been talking about separating and I’ve been making plans to move out. One of the options I was considering was moving temporarily into those holiday cottages.”
On the surface, the story was believable, Bessie thought. Thomas had mentioned more than once that he wouldn’t mind taking on long-term renters, rather than just using the properties as holiday rentals. It always seemed a shame to her that they sat empty for many months of the year as well. She wouldn’t mind having neighbours during the long winter months, although she wasn’t sure how she felt about living next door to Sidney Harris.
“They seem like nice cottages,” she said mildly.
“They are nice, and I thought I would like living right on the water. I’ve been nagging Mary to let me take a look at one of them for weeks. Her company banks with us, which is how I met her. Anyway, when she had a last-minute cancellation on Monday, she rang me and offered to show me the cottage before the next set of guests arrived. Otherwise, I’d have to wait for autumn when they start to get less busy.”
Bessie nodded, wondering how he was going to explain the part about Mary making breakfast in the cottage kitchen or the upstairs light being on in the evening.
“Anyway, I met Mary and she showed me the cottage. We had to do it very early in the morning, before I was due at work. Mary was even kind enough to make us a quick breakfast before I had to rush away. I really don’t want my wife to know what I’m planning, not until I’m sure everything is arranged.”
“Surely she ought to know that you’re planning to leave?”
“As I said, we’ve been talking about separating,” he said. “I just don’t want her to know my exact plans, not until they’re finalised.”
Aunt Bessie Needs (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 14) Page 22
