Aunt Bessie Assumes: An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery

by Diana Xarissa

  It was cold and she took only a single sip before she put it back on the tray and pushed the tray table away from her bed. She sighed deeply and wondered what to do next.

  “Here we are with another nice wee tablet to make us feel all better,” the same night nurse burbled as she came into the room. “Giving you your tablet is my last job for the morning,” she told Bessie. “Then I can get off home and get some rest myself.”

  “Yes, well, I think I have enough painkillers for now,” Bessie told her.

  “Doctor's orders,” the nurse said with a forced grin.

  “Then I'll just take it up with the doctor when I see him,” Bessie answered back. “Thank you anyway.”

  The nurse frowned and glanced at her watch. “Well, if I can't change your mind….” she trailed off and looked at her watch again.

  Bessie steadfastly remained silent, smiling politely at the woman.

  “I really must be going,” the nurse said at last as she spun on her heel. “I shall tell the doctor that you refused the last tablet,” she said over her shoulder she left the room.

  Bessie sank back into her pillow, more tired than she ought to have been from the short encounter.

  When the door swung open again, Bessie braced herself for another argument with the nurse. Instead Doona's smiling face appeared at the door.

  “Yuck,” Doona said as she took in the contents of Bessie's breakfast tray. “Good thing I brought breakfast,” she told Bessie as she began to open the bags she was carrying.

  Moments later Bessie was feasting on a still warm and decadently delicious chocolate chip muffin from Ramsey's premier bakery. She took a swallow of the hot milky tea that Doona had also provided.

  “That's much better,” she told Doona a short time later. “I feel almost human again.”

  Doona laughed and then frowned. “How's the pain?” she asked seriously.

  “It's bearable,” Bessie answered. “At least for now. I had tablets overnight, but I refused to take any more this morning. We'll see how I feel as they start to wear off.”

  Doona nodded. “I know you don't like to take stuff,” she told Bessie, “but it's better than suffering.”

  Bessie nodded reluctantly. Doona was probably right.

  “What does the doctor say?” Doona asked.

  “He hasn't been in yet,” Bessie told her. As if on cue, the door swung open yet again and the smiling face of the young doctor peeked around it.

  “How are you this morning?” he asked Bessie with a cheery smile.

  “I'm not too bad,” Bessie said cautiously. “Obviously, I’m in some pain, but it's bearable so far.”

  The doctor nodded and checked something on the chart he was carrying. “Amy, the night nurse, tells me that you didn't want to take your pain medicine this morning,” he remarked casually.

  “The tablets just make me sleepy,” Bessie told him.

  “They're supposed to,” he grinned at her, and then frowned.

  “Seriously, though, your body had a huge shock and some considerable trauma yesterday. The more rest you can give it the better at this point. You can be strong and tough early next week when you've made a good start on healing.”

  Bessie frowned. “I would really rather not take drugs I don't absolutely need,” she insisted.

  “And I suppose you'll be wanting to get out of here as well,” the doctor sighed. “I work hard on my bedside manner,” he teased, “but no one ever wants to stay here for more than a day or two.”

  Bessie smiled, finding herself liking the man in spite of herself. Now if he could just do something about the nurses, she thought.

  “I'll tell you what,” Dr. Cannell said to Bessie. “I'll let you go home this afternoon if all of your vitals are good and you promise to have someone stay with you for a few days.” Bessie nodded at his words.

  He held up a hand. “But,” he continued, “you go home with two prescriptions, one for the same painkillers that we gave you overnight and a second one for something not quite as strong. You can choose which to take when, but I want you taking something every four hours or so throughout the day, and I want you to promise to take the stronger ones at bedtime until at least Monday. The best thing you can do for your body right now is let it rest and recover.”

  Bessie nodded, willing to agree to just about anything if it would get her home. Hospitals had bad food, funny smells and old and dying people in them; she hated being there.

  “Don't worry, Doctor,” Doona told the man. “I'll make sure she behaves.”

  Bessie rolled her eyes at Doona behind the doctor's head, which made Doona snicker. The man fussed over Bessie for a few minutes, checking this and that and asking terribly personal questions before he finally gave her hand a pat.

  “Dr. Quayle will be in to check on you after lunch,” he told Bessie. “Assuming all your vitals are still good, you'll be free to go.”

  “He's awfully cute,” Doona remarked as the door closed behind him.

  “He's awfully young,” Bessie answered her.

  “Hmm,” Doona said thoughtfully. “I've never dated a younger man.”

  Bessie shook her head. “I'm so glad my misfortune has given you an opportunity to brush up on your flirting,” she said sardonically.

  Doona just laughed. She was still sitting with Bessie a short time later when Inspector Rockwell arrived.

  “I hope you had a good night,” the inspector told Bessie as he handed her a small vase full of flowers. “And I hope these brighten your room.”

  “They’re lovely, and I shall be very happy to take them home with me later today,” Bessie told him.

  “They’re letting you go home, then?” he asked.

  “After lunch, if all my signs are good,” Bessie replied. “And not a moment too soon.”

  Rockwell smiled. “I’d love to think that I’ll have the killer locked up before you get out of here, but that isn’t looking very likely at the moment.”

  Bessie frowned. “I was hoping you’d have better news than that,” she told him.

  “You need to tell me what happened at Thie yn Traie,” Rockwell told her. “Who did you see and what did you say? Something had to trigger the attack on you.”

  Bessie shook her head slowly. “I’ve been trying to think it through,” she told the inspector. “I had a short visit with Mrs. Pierce, Vikky and Donny and exchanged a few words with Bahey. That was about it.”

  Inspector Rockwell took her through her entire visit slowly, having her recount every conversation as close to verbatim as possible. Halfway through the recitation, a different nurse came in to offer Bessie something for pain, and she took it reluctantly.

  “This one won’t make you sleepy,” the pleasantly plump nurse, who had to be in her sixties, assured Bessie. “It’ll just take the edge off.”

  Bessie wasn’t sure that the nurse had been telling the truth half an hour later when she finally finished going through her previous afternoon. She felt exhausted.

  “I’ve already told you how Robert showed me to the stairs and then left,” she told Rockwell. “And how I started down and then got pushed from behind.”

  The inspector nodded. “I don’t know,” he told her. “There doesn’t seem to be anything in there that would trigger an attack on you.” He gave a frustrated-sounding sigh. “Perhaps the killer thought you were someone else.”

  “Who else would be climbing down those stairs?” Bessie asked incredulously.

  “No one,” Rockwell admitted. “At least no one that I can think of.” He sighed again. “I have to get back to my office. The Chief Constable has called a meeting this afternoon so that we can get together and compare notes. I know Inspector Kelly is convinced that he’s got everything wrapped up. I just hope the Chief Constable agrees that the attack on you is connected to the murders.”

  “I think you need to get some sleep,” Doona told Bessie, after the inspector left. “I’ll just sit here and read quietly. You shut your eyes for a bit.”r />
  Bessie was going to protest, really she was, but she fell asleep before she managed to do so.

  A different, but still terribly young nurse’s aide with a lunch tray woke her. “Here we are then,” the woman smiled at her. “I’ve brought you some nice lunch.”

  Bessie looked down at the tray and grimaced. Nothing looked particularly tasty and much of it appeared almost inedible. She gave the aide a pained look. “Would you eat that?” she asked.

  The aide chuckled. “No ma’am,” she told Bessie. “I bring my lunch in from home every day. I’ve yet to see anything sent up from that cafeteria that looks edible. Most days I carry trays back down just as full as the ones I brought up.”

  Bessie laughed. “Well, I certainly don’t want that,” she told her. “I don’t even know what it is.”

  “It’s, um,” the aide reached into a pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper. Bessie could see the words “Today’s Menu” across the top. “Chicken and rice in savoury gravy with mushy peas and mashed potatoes. Pudding is cinnamon spiced apple sauce with cream.”

  Bessie looked again at the tray. “If you say so,” she said doubtfully.

  The aide shrugged. “I’m supposed to leave it with you for at least ten minutes,” she said apologetically. “At least a few patients end up getting desperate enough to eat some of it.”

  Bessie nodded. “Go ahead and leave it, then, but I won’t be eating a single bite. I’m supposed to go home this afternoon, anyway. I can wait until I get there to get some lunch.”

  The aide nodded and then bustled out again, back to her trolley full of meals. Bessie pushed her tray table away and then frowned. Doona had obviously gone, and now she felt wide-awake and bored. She thought about trying to get out of bed, but that had been such a chore when the nurse had helped her to the loo before breakfast that she decided to stay put. If she were going home later, she would have plenty of opportunity to push her damaged body then.

  She didn’t have much time to get bored, however. Doona rushed in only a few moments later. She was carrying several bags and struggling to catch her breath.

  “I was supposed to be back half an hour ago,” she gasped at Bessie.

  “No worries,” Bessie grinned. “I’m not going anywhere in a hurry.”

  Doona smiled back at her. “Yeah, but I was supposed to relieve the guy on door duty,” she told her friend. “Anyway, at least I brought enough lunch for you and me and poor Nigel on the door. I’ve given him his sandwich and a piece of cake and sent him away.”

  As she spoke, Doona moved Bessie’s lunch tray off the small table and set it just outside the door. Then she pulled sandwiches and packets of crisps from one bag and bottles of juice from another. In minutes she had an appetising lunch laid out in front of Bessie.

  “Door duty?” Bessie said in a confused voice as she watched Doona work.

  “Yep, Hugh was here until three in the morning and then Nigel took over for him. I was supposed to relieve him at noon on the dot and I’m late,” Doona explained as she pulled another sandwich from a bag and took a big bite.

  “Really? Does Inspector Rockwell genuinely think I’m in danger?” Bessie asked in surprise.

  “We all do,” Doona answered after a sip of her juice. “Well, all of us except Inspector Kelly. He thinks you fell down the stairs and are claiming that you were pushed because you’re embarrassed about it.”

  Bessie stared at her friend, too angry to speak for a moment. “He actually said that?” she asked.

  “Well, not in so many words,” Doona admitted. “But that was what he meant.”

  Bessie shook her head. “Just wait until I see his mother the next time. She and I will have a long chat.”

  Doona laughed. “Don’t let it bother you,” she soothed. “Inspector Kelly is just eager to get the case solved and get the Pierce family off the island. I gather the whole situation with Maeve has been causing him trouble.”

  “What is the situation with Maeve?” Bessie asked.

  Doona shrugged. “I’ve only heard bits and pieces,” she told Bessie. “She and Donny are still married, but apparently they haven’t seen each other in a long time. According to Maeve’s statement that she gave to the papers, their both being on the island right now was a total coincidence.”

  “She made a statement to the papers?”

  “Oh, indeed,” Doona answered. “She held her own little press conference yesterday afternoon, right before the one the police were giving and just in time for today’s local paper. She got a fair bit of coverage from the papers in UK as well, which I suspect was her real aim.”

  “Why?”

  “She’s looking for her fifteen minutes of fame, I guess,” Doona said. “She got all dramatically teary-eyed and weepy as she recounted how she had been cruelly dragged away from her first and really, truly, only true love.” Doona scoffed. “By the time Donny got ahold of her, she’d already been through half a dozen ‘true loves,’ if my sources are anything to go on.”

  Bessie shrugged. “All that must have happened in Douglas,” she remarked.

  “Well, yes, mostly, I guess,” Doona answered. “The Kelly family was living there at that point and from what I gather, young Donald was spending as much time in the ‘big city’ as he could when the family was here on holiday.”

  “What else did she tell the press?”

  “How worried she is about ‘her’ Donny now that he’s caught up in a murder investigation and how surprised she was to learn that he was here when she arrived for a short visit with her dearly loved mother. I know her little brother is technically my boss, but I didn’t believe a word she said.”

  Bessie sighed. “Even if she was lying through her teeth, though, what possible motive could she have had for killing Danny or pushing me off the steps yesterday?”

  Doona shrugged. “I don’t know, but I don’t trust her. Eat your lunch.”

  Bessie grinned. “Yes, ma’am,” she said mockingly. Then she took a bite and gave Doona an even bigger smile. “This is delicious,” she told her friend.

  “I bought all the ingredients and then ran home and made the sandwiches myself,” Doona told her. “That way I could be sure to put together exactly what I know you like.”

  Bessie thanked her again. The sandwiches and crisps disappeared quickly and Bessie found that she felt much better once her tummy was full. She obediently took yet another pain tablet when the nurse popped in while she was eating her pudding and then settled back into the bed.

  “Thank you again,” she told Doona. “I’m sure I wouldn’t feel nearly this good if I’d eaten the stuff the hospital kitchen sent up.”

  Doona laughed. “I’m sure.”

  “Unfortunately, I’m afraid you’re right.” The voice in the doorway startled Bessie.

  Dr. George Quayle walked into the room and smiled at her. “It’s always nice to see you, Aunt Bessie,” he told her. “Even under less than ideal circumstances.”

  Bessie was pleased to finally see someone that she knew. While he wasn’t her usual doctor, he occasionally filled in at her surgery when one or another of the physicians needed a holiday. She noted that, even though he had to be pushing sixty, he still had a full head of the snow-white hair that had started changing from its original brown when he had still been in his twenties. His eyes were a shade of brown that had once matched his hair perfectly. He’d put on a few pounds since Bessie had last seen him, but he was still in reasonable shape and he appeared to be full of energy.

  The pair chatted easily while the doctor ran a few quick tests. “Well,” he said after a moment, “all of your vital signs are excellent. I think you’re in better shape than I am.”

  Bessie glanced down at the man’s emerging potbelly and bit her tongue. He followed her eyes and laughed.

  “Anyway, Dr. Cannell left a note that I’m meant to let you go home this afternoon if your signs are good,” he told her. “But before I do that, I want to make sure you’ll be able to get around
on your own.”

  Bessie opened her mouth to protest, but the doctor held up a hand.

  “Don’t argue,” he said. “Even if you have someone staying with you, you’ll need to get to the loo and the kitchen and whatever. I’m not asking you to race me up the corridor, I just want to see you shuffle from here to the loo and back.”

  Bessie gave him a determined smile and then, hesitantly, swung her legs out from under the covers. There was no denying that the movement was painful. She got her feet to the floor and then sat on the edge of the bed for several minutes, breathing steadily.

  “Bessie?” Doona asked nervously.

  “I’m okay,” Bessie insisted. “I’m just taking it slowly.”

  “I’m here until six,” the doctor told them both. “No need to rush.”

  Bessie rolled her eyes at him and then slowly got to her feet. With slow and deliberate caution, she began to shuffle forward. Doona was quick to take her arm. The pair made their way across the room to the small attached loo. Bessie tapped on the door and then unhurriedly turned around. The walk back to the bed felt shorter and Bessie was relieved to find that her muscles seemed to loosen up slightly the more they were used.

  “Okay?” the doctor asked.

  “I think so,” Bessie replied. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it might be.”

  “Just remember that you’re taking pain medication right now. Dr. Cannell said that he gave you instructions for that; make sure that you listen to him. No sense suffering unnecessarily.”

  Bessie nodded. “Does that mean that I can go home?”

  Dr. Quayle grinned at her. “Yes, you can go home.”

  “Hurray,” Doona cheered as Bessie sank back down on the bed, feeling quite worn out by her short stroll.

  “You may as well lie back down and rest,” the doctor told her. “It’s going to take me at least an hour to sort out all of your paperwork so you can leave.”

  Bessie grinned at him. She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she was grateful that she could rest for a while and not feel guilty about it.

  In the end, it was nearly three o’clock before all of the necessary paperwork was completed and Bessie was wheeled out of the hospital in the required wheelchair. Doona brought her car around to the entrance and Bessie struggled into the passenger seat with a sigh.