Aunt Bessie Assumes
An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery
By:
Diana Xarissa
Text Copyright © 2014 Diana Xarissa
All Rights Reserved
Author’s Note
Aunt Bessie originally came to life (sort of) in my Isle of Man Romance, Island Inheritance. She was the source of the inheritance that prompted the heroine to visit the Isle of Man. So, yes, in that book she had recently passed away. Her life story was told through the recollections of other characters, as well as through letters and diaries.
After I finished writing the book, I couldn’t seem to let go of Aunt Bessie. She fascinated me and I wanted to learn more about her. When I decided to start a cozy mystery series, also to be set in the Isle of Man (more about that later), I knew I needed an interesting and unique protagonist. Aunt Bessie seemed tailor-made for the job. Aside from the “being dead” part, that is.
Of necessity, therefore, this book is set circa 1998, about fifteen years before that romance novel, which was pretty much intended to be set in the year it was written (2013). Aunt Bessie is, thus, still very much alive. I’m hoping I haven’t made any obvious errors in setting the story in the recent past. The biggest changes have, obviously, been in technology. So, for example, Aunt Bessie and her friends have mobile phones, but not “smart” phones.
For readers who enjoyed Island Inheritance, or other of my Isle of Man Romance series books, you will find the occasional character who crosses over between books and series. Obviously, in the Aunt Bessie books they will be younger versions of themselves. I hope you enjoy a little peek into their personal histories in that way. Similarly, if you start with the mysteries and go on to read the romances, you can find out what happens in later life to some of the characters from the Aunt Bessie books.
I’ve used British spellings and British and/or Manx words and terminology throughout the book (although one or two American words or spellings might have slipped past me). A couple of pages of translations and explanations for many of them, especially for readers outside of the United Kingdom, follows this note.
As to the setting, the story takes place in the incredibly beautiful Isle of Man. The island is located between England and Ireland in the Irish Sea. While it is a Crown Dependency, it is a country in its own right, with its own currency, stamps, language and government.
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. Similarly, the names of the restaurants and shops and other businesses on the island are fictional. I’ve also taken considerable liberties with locations within the story, adding fiction shops and restaurants where they are convenient to the story rather than where they actually exist.
The historical sites and other landmarks on the island are all real; however, all of the events that take place within them in this story are fictional. (And I’m sure the food at the Ramsey and Cottage District Hospital is much better in reality than Bessie finds it here.)
Manx National Heritage is real and their efforts to preserve and promote the historical sites and the history of the island are extraordinary. All of the Manx National Heritage staff in this story, however, are fictional creations.
The Isle of Man Constabulary is also real, however their members in this story are very much fictional and they behave in ways that I’m sure their real counterparts never would.
The island was my home for over ten years and I hope that my writing conveys how much I loved it there. It is a truly unique and fascinating place, steeped in history and endowed with its own distinct culture and traditions. I hope to visit soon and I encourage all of my readers to do the same.
Glossary of Terms
Manx to English
fastyr mie
good afternoon
kys t’ou
how are you?
moghry mie
good morning
skeet
gossip
ta mee braew
I’m fine
traa-dy-liooar
time enough (as in, no rush, we can get it done eventually)
House Names – Manx to English
Thie yn Traie
Beach House
Treoghe Bwaaue
Widow’s Cottage
English to American Terms
advocate
Manx title for a lawyer (solicitor)
aye
yes
biscuits
cookies
car park
parking lot
chemist
pharmacist
crisps
potato chips
cuddly toy
stuffed animal
cuppa
cup of tea (informally)
gaol
jail
holiday
vacation
middlin
tolerable
pavement
sidewalk
pudding
dessert
telly
television
Other Notes
CID is the Criminal Investigation Department of the Isle of Man Constabulary (Police Force).
“Noble’s” is Noble’s Hospital, the main hospital on the Isle of Man. It is located in Douglas, the island’s capital city.
When talking about time, the English say, for example, “half-seven” to mean “seven-thirty.”
Bessie mentions “getting a telegram from the Queen” – British citizens used to receive telegrams from the ruling monarch on the occasion of their one-hundredth birthday. Cards replaced the telegrams in 1982, but the special greeting is still widely referred to as a telegram.
One character is referred to as living in a “4-bed semi”, which is the short way of saying a four-bedroomed, semi-detached house. Semi-detached properties are two separate units that share a common wall down the centre. (In America they are often called “duplexes.”) Each unit would be sold individually. Such properties are common in the United Kingdom where space is at a premium.
The “licence fee” referred to in the story is a television licence fee. This fee is required in the United Kingdom for anyone who owns and operates a television set. The money raised pays for public broadcasting, the British Broadcasting Corporation (or BBC) stations (both television and radio).
A charity shop is a store run by a non-profit organisation that sells second-hand items that have been donated to the store. All of the profits go to support the non-profit group running the store. They are a great source for second-hand books, furniture, toys, games, etc.
When island residents talk about someone being from “across,” they mean that the person is from somewhere in the United Kingdom. (across the water)
In the United Kingdom (UK) a doctor’s office is often referred to as a “surgery.”
Chapter One
Elizabeth Cubbon, known as Bessie to her friends, rubbed her eyes and checked the clock by her bed. It was 6:06, which meant her internal alarm was a few minutes off today. She frowned as she sat up in bed and pushed back the warm duvet. Slippers in place, she padded over to the window and looked out. The glow from the nearest street lamp gave her just enough light see the sheets of rain that were falling. She would definitely have the beach to herself this morning.
Half an hour later she was showered and dressed and waiting impatiently for the sky to lighten up a bit. Sunrise, this early in March, was still half an hour away. As rainy and overcast as it was, the sun wasn’t going to make much difference, but she waited for it anyway. A hot cup of tea and toast with h
oney and homemade strawberry jam helped to pass the time as she watched out the window for the sun to come up.
At quarter past seven, when the sun had risen enough to lift just a bit of the gloom, she pulled on her thickest waterproof coat and a pair of Wellington boots. An umbrella would have been useless in the strong wind. Bessie loved walking on the beach and she wasn’t about to let a little rain or wind stop her. It was, however, colder outside than she had realised and once she stepped out, she decided that today’s morning walk was going to be a short one.
As usual, she headed straight towards the water. Some distance from the water’s edge, she turned right and began her usual stroll towards the line of newer cottages in the distance. Most days she walked as far as the closest cottage before turning back towards home. In the summer she might walk to the cottages and well beyond. Today she planned to shorten her stroll considerably as the strong wind began to pick up and the rain streamed across her face.
In the dim light and pouring rain, she supposed it wasn’t surprising that she didn’t see the man until she had nearly tripped over him. One look had her turning around and heading for home. Even if she had brought her mobile phone with her on the walk, she couldn’t have used it in the heavy rain. She walked as quickly as she could back to her cottage, hurrying faster than she had in many years.
She dialled a number she knew well.
“Laxey Neighbourhood Policing, this is Doona, how can I help you?”
The familiar voice was welcome. Doona only worked the early shift once or twice a week and Bessie felt fortunate that she was the one who answered the phone today. “Doona, it’s Elizabeth Cubbon,” she said, suddenly formal.
“Bessie? My goodness, aren’t we formal on a Monday?”
“Sorry, Doona.” Bessie felt flustered. “It’s just that I’ve found a body, you see.”
“A body?” Doona repeated. “What sort of body is that, then?”
“Well, a human one,” Bessie answered. “A man, probably middle-aged I would guess, although it’s hard to tell since he’s face down in the sand.”
“And you found him where, exactly?”
“He’s just lying on the beach.” Bessie felt she was explaining herself badly. She took a deep breath and started over. “I went out for my morning walk, and I nearly tripped over this man who’s lying on the beach. I’m sure he must be dead. It’s too cold and wet for anyone to lie there otherwise.”
“Aye, dead drunk, more like it,” Doona replied. “How many complaints have we had about the folks in the new cottages getting drunk and behaving badly?”
“I don’t think anyone’s staying at the cottages yet, this season. Anyway, I really think he’s dead,” Bessie told her friend. “He’s lying face down in the sand and he didn’t move when I shouted at him. I think you’d better send Hugh and he’d better be quick. The tide’s on its way in and the gulls are circling.”
“I don’t suppose you have any guests that could go and stand by the body until Hugh gets there?” Doona asked. “Someone should keep an eye on it, I guess.”
“No one stayed over last night,” Bessie answered. “They usually don’t on school nights.”
Bessie had never married or had children of her own, so she acted as an “honorary aunt” to every child in the small village of Laxey, where she made her home. Her guest room was often occupied on weekends by some angry or unhappy teen who felt misunderstood by his or her parents.
“That’s a shame. I’m calling Hugh on his mobile phone now, but it will take him a while to get dressed and get down there. He doesn’t usually roll in here until half-eight or nine.”
“I’ll go and wait with the body,” Bessie told her.
“Now don’t you be silly,” Doona replied. “You stay in where it’s warm and dry. I’ll tell Hugh to hurry.”
“The poor man shouldn’t be out there all alone,” Bessie argued. “I’ll go and stand with him and chase away the gulls and the tide.”
“You’ll struggle to chase away the tide, I think,” Doona laughed. “I’ll make sure Hugh knows you’re waiting out in the cold for him. I’m sure he’ll hurry faster if he knows that you’re getting soaked and blown around.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure of anything with young Hugh,” Bessie replied. “He’s a nice kid, but I’ve never seen him hurry at anything.”
“Just as well he’s living here,” Doona chuckled. “Traa-dy-liooar, and all that.”
In spite of her offer, Bessie was in no hurry to get back outside in the nasty weather to spend more time with the dead man. After she’d hung up the phone, she put the kettle back on and prepared herself another hot drink. She carefully poured it into an insulated mug and then, reluctantly, pulled her still wet coat back on. The man on the beach hadn’t moved, which didn’t surprise Bessie. There was no doubt in her mind that he was dead, whatever Doona thought.
The rain was easing off slightly, and the sun was trying its best to warm the air as it rose, before Bessie finally spotted Hugh’s police car pulling into a parking space in front of her cottage. Bessie headed up the beach towards him, waving to him as he emerged from his car. He was frowning and struggling to pull on a light raincoat. He popped open an umbrella and Bessie held back a laugh as the wind immediately blew it inside out.
“This is beastly weather,” he told Bessie as she approached him.
“We mustn’t complain,” Bessie told him. “Plenty of places are worse than here.”
The man looked at her for a moment and then shook his head. “Can’t think where,” he muttered under his breath. Then he spoke loudly. “So what have we got then?”
“I nearly tripped over him,” Bessie told the young policeman. “I was out for my morning walk and I didn’t expect to find anyone lying on the beach, especially not in this weather.”
Hugh nodded. “I expect he’s from the new cottages,” he told Bessie in an impatient voice. “Had too much to drink and now he’s gone and passed out on the sand.”
“I’m pretty sure the cottages aren’t being used yet this year. Besides, I think he’s dead,” Bessie repeated what she’d already told Doona.
Hugh managed to get his umbrella the right way around again and he battled to keep it that way as the pair slowly approached the body. They watched silently as a seagull landed on the man’s back and began pulling at the thinning hair that surrounded a bald circle on the back of the man’s head.
“That has to hurt,” Hugh remarked as he stopped walking. “Maybe I’d better get some reinforcements down here. Dead people aren’t really part of my job description.”
Bessie sighed and turned towards him. “You should at least check that he’s really dead,” she encouraged the man. “Think how embarrassing it would be to get Inspector Kelly down here only for him to find that the man really is just passed out.”
Bessie watched as different emotions flashed across the young man’s face. She had known young Hugh Watterson since the day he was born and she could almost read his thoughts as he looked from Bessie to the body and back. His eyes and his hair were almost an identical shade of brown. He was in his mid-twenties now, and had grown to around six foot tall, but he still looked no more than fifteen. He was still sporting the same patchy attempt to grow a moustache that he had started when he’d actually been that age.
Hugh had joined the Isle of Man Constabulary as soon as he’d left school, but he was still as transparent to her as he had been at six when he used to stop in to see her after school, pretending he just wanted to say hi, while really hoping for a biscuit or a slice of cake.
While he was pretty smart, even his best friend would never call him enterprising. His worst enemy would simply say that he was lazy. Bessie could almost see him trying to figure out what move would cause him the most work. She sighed and took a decisive step towards the body. The tide was still rising and it wouldn’t be long before it would reach the man’s feet.
Hugh crossed to her side and then held out a hand. “Aunt Bessie, y
ou need to take a step back, please.” Bessie stopped and then moved back a few feet under Hugh’s suddenly serious gaze.
Hugh reached the man’s side and pushed gently on his shoulder. Nothing happened. He pushed a second time, with more force.
“Sir?” Hugh shook the man’s shoulder, shouting loudly over the lightly falling rain and the sound of the wind and waves. “Sir, you need to wake up. Sir?”
With a sigh, Hugh walked over to hand his umbrella to Bessie and then returned to the body. He began struggling to roll the man over onto his back. Suddenly he stopped what he was doing and looked over at Bessie. Bessie looked expectantly at him, but his look told her nothing.
“I need to call for backup,” he said to Bessie. “I know that this is no job for a woman, especially an elderly woman, but could you stay with the body for a few more minutes while I make the call?”
Bessie drew herself up to her full height of five feet, three inches and glared back at the man. “I’ll thank you to keep your sexist and ageist remarks to yourself, young man,” she told the policeman. “I am perfectly capable of standing here for a few minutes while you do what you need to do. The poor dead man deserves to have sympathetic company while he waits for whatever is going to happen next.”
Hugh looked as if he wanted to argue, but only for a moment. “Keep the umbrella for now,” he told Bessie as he headed back to his car. “And stay away from the body.”
Bessie grinned as the wind howled and blew the umbrella inside out yet again. She wasn’t going to stay any drier with it than without it, but she knew its presence made the young cop feel a bit better about leaving her out in the storm. Once Hugh was back at his car, Bessie turned curiously towards the dead man. What she could see of him looked vaguely familiar, but she wasn’t sure why.
Aunt Bessie Assumes: An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Page 1
