“I smell bacon and coffee,” he said, greeting Bessie with a huge hug. “I’m almost hungry, as well.”
“I hope you slept well,” Bessie said as she started cooking pancakes.
“I did,” Hugh said. “And I am feeling a lot better for it. I was feeling quite sorry for myself and rather hopeless last night, but now I’m determined to help John work out what really happened to Gennifer, before Anna Lambert locks me up.”
“Anna’s not going to be locking anyone up,” Bessie said soothingly. “Not with John, Doona, and me on the case. We’ll soon have the killer behind the bars and you’ll be on your way to planning your wedding.”
“I hope so,” Hugh said fervently.
Bessie slid a stack of pancakes onto a plate and added bacon. Handing the plate to Hugh, she passed him a full toast rack. “Sit down and eat,” she urged him. “I’ll just make myself a few pancakes and then I’ll join you.”
Hugh poured a generous helping of maple syrup over his breakfast and dug in. Bessie was relieved to see him eating with something like enthusiasm. By the time she joined him, his plate and the toast rack were both nearly empty.
“I’m suspended without pay,” Hugh told Bessie between bites. “I don’t even know what to do with myself today.”
“John thought you might be at loose ends,” she told the man. “He brought over a huge pile of old case files for you to go through. They’re all what he called cold cases, some of the very earliest ones he could find. He’s been going through them at home himself, but he thought you might like to take a look. He suggested that you might write up your ideas about each case as you go along and then you and he can compare notes.”
“Really?” Hugh asked. “I really hit the jackpot when he was reassigned to Laxey. Of course, he’s spoiling me for any other boss, ever.”
Bessie nodded. The way that John treated his staff always impressed her. “I have to go into Ramsey for a few hours this afternoon. I can bring you back anything you need.”
“I think I’m okay for now,” Hugh said with a shrug. “John included a few toiletries in the bags he brought for me. What I really want to do is get back into my flat for an hour, but I won’t do it if it might upset Grace.”
“I’ll be talking to her later. I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”
“If not, John’s given me more than enough to survive on for a few days,” Hugh said. “I was worried that he might not stand by me, with Inspector Lambert seeming so convinced I did it, but he’s been great about everything.”
“Let me make you some more pancakes,” Bessie suggested as she cleared Hugh’s empty plate.
He looked at it in surprise and then shook his head. “That’s okay. They were delicious, but I’m quite full up.”
“Well, there’s leftover batter, so I’ll just put it in the refrigerator and we can have pancakes again tomorrow. That is, unless you get hungry for them between now and then.”
Hugh helped Bessie with the washing-up, and then he settled in with his case files while Bessie read a book. At eleven, she went upstairs to get ready for her afternoon out.
“There’s plenty of food in the refrigerator for lunch,” she told Hugh. “I’ll cook something for our evening meal when I get back.”
“Um, hm,” Hugh muttered, barely glancing up from the file he was reading.
Bessie smiled to herself as she went into the kitchen to wait for Mary. John’s old case files seemed to be just what Hugh needed.
Mary was right on time, but Bessie was surprised to see a driver climb out of the car when it arrived. She was out of the house and locking up behind herself before he reached her.
“Right this way, madam,” he said with a small bow.
He held open a door at the back of the car and Bessie climbed in. Mary grinned at her. “I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I usually drive myself, but I’m still a bit too tired to want to have to concentrate that hard. Anyway, parking isn’t easy in Ramsey, especially on a Saturday. This way I don’t have to worry about that.”
As Bessie didn’t drive, she never gave parking a single thought. “Of course I don’t mind,” she told her friend. “I’m just grateful to you for collecting me so I didn’t have to get a taxi.”
Mary kept the conversation light on the short drive, presumably for the benefit of the young man behind the wheel. “I’ll ring you when I need collecting,” she told him as he helped them both from the car.
“Very good,” he replied.
“I’m starving,” Mary told Bessie as they made their way into the nearly empty restaurant. “I don’t remember eating after our tea yesterday and I know I didn’t have any breakfast this morning. I felt too unwell to eat, but now I’m hungry enough to eat just about anything.”
Bessie requested a quiet corner, which the hostess was easily able to find. “It will get busier later,” she warned them as she seated them. “I’ll try to keep people out of the corner, but once we get full up everywhere else, I won’t have a choice.”
“That’s fine,” Bessie assured her. “And we’re very grateful for that.”
Mary tried to press a note into the girl’s hand, but she shook her head. “I’d do the same for anyone who asked nicely,” she said. “Anyway, Aunt Bessie’s a regular here.”
Mary laughed. “I should have known. Everyone knows you.”
Bessie shrugged. “When you’ve lived your whole life in one place, you do get to meet quite a few people,” she said.
They placed their orders before Bessie got down to business. “I’m afraid Inspector Lambert is quite suspicious of young Hugh Watterson,” she told Mary. “Of course, we all know he would never have hurt Gennifer, but the inspector isn’t convinced. Obviously, I’m doing everything I can to help the poor man.”
“I don’t know him as well as you do,” Mary replied. “But I know him well enough to know that he didn’t kill Gennifer. If there’s anything I can do to help, please just ask.”
“I do have some questions for you,” Bessie said.
“Ask away,” Mary replied easily. “I’ll tell you whatever I can.”
“John Rockwell was wondering where you found the staff for the party,” Bessie began with the easiest of her queries.
“Most of them came from our house in Douglas,” Mary said. “We used an agency in Peel to supply most of the waiters and waitresses and a few other helpers around the place.”
Mary dug around in her handbag for a moment and then pulled out a business card. “This is the agency we used,” she told Bessie. “They’re very good and I’ve never had a problem with anyone they’ve sent whenever I’ve used them.”
Bessie tucked the card into her bag as their waitress delivered their drinks. After a sip, Bessie moved on to her next question. “At one point in the evening, George invited all of his guests and their wives to go with him somewhere. Do you know where they went?”
Mary sighed. “He wanted to show off the wine cellar,” she said. “Only a few of them cared at all, and none of the wives were interested, but the house came with an extensive wine cellar that’s stocked with some very valuable bottles.”
“I’m surprised Mr. Pierce didn’t take the wine with him,” Bessie said.
“He said he didn’t want anything from the house here,” Mary told her. “They left food in the pantry and clothes in the wardrobes.” She shook her head. “It’s all very sad.”
“But where is the wine cellar?” Bessie asked, knowing she’d not ever seen anything in the house that looked like an entrance to a cellar.
“The door is near the garage wing,” Mary told her. “It was only a short walk for everyone and it only took a few moments for all of the guests to pretend to be impressed.”
Bessie smiled. “I’m sure some of them were genuinely impressed,” she said.
“Maybe,” Mary shrugged. “Anyway, one of the wives tripped on her skirt and managed to knock a couple of bottles onto the floor. Of course they shattered. None of them
were valuable, but George stayed behind to clear them up while everyone else went back to the party. That’s why he missed midnight.”
“George cleared them up?” Bessie asked, unable to picture the man doing a job like that himself.
Mary laughed. “I should have said George stayed behind to supervise someone else as they cleaned up the mess,” she clarified.
Bessie nodded. Before she could speak again, the food was delivered and she and Mary concentrated on enjoying their lunch. Mary told Bessie about her grandchildren and Bessie insisted on seeing the latest photographs as they ate. When the waitress had cleared their empty plates, Bessie moved the conversation back to the murder.
“John told me that you never left the room after Gennifer did,” Bessie said. “But he also thinks you were the only person who didn’t, aside from himself.”
“He’s probably right,” Mary said. “People were everywhere in the house. I found empty glasses in half a dozen rooms the morning after. Everyone simply made themselves at home, especially Elizabeth’s friends, as they are staying at the house.”
“I’d really like to learn more about them,” Bessie said.
“You think one of them killed Gennifer.”
Bessie hesitated and then nodded. “I can’t imagine anyone else having a motive,” she said.
“That’s what I’ve been thinking as well,” Mary replied. “I don’t really know any of them well. Elizabeth has never invited any of them to the island before. You should talk to her.”
“I’d like to, but I’m not really meant to be visiting Thie yn Traie at the moment, not during an active murder investigation.”
“Why don’t you have dinner with her?” Mary suggested. “I’ll arrange it for tonight if you’d like.”
Bessie thought for a minute. Both lunch and tea out were extravagant; having dinner out as well seemed too much. But she was too eager to talk to Elizabeth to pass up the opportunity. “If she’s free, I’d be very grateful,” she told Mary.
Mary made a quick phone call. Bessie tried not to overhear, but it did seem as if the woman was having some trouble persuading her daughter. Eventually, Mary ended the call. “It’s all arranged. I thought, since you’re already in Ramsey, that the little pub next to the bookstore would do, but if you’d rather go somewhere else, just say so.”
“The pub is fine,” Bessie said. They had good food and quiet tables in a small room at the back. Bessie would make sure she was early enough to secure one of them.
“I’d better get back to Douglas before George gets himself into any trouble,” Mary said, rising to her feet. “We’re trying to get the house ready to go on the market, and he’s just in the way, mostly.”
Bessie chuckled as she stood up to give the woman a hug. “Thank you for everything,” she said. “I hope Elizabeth is as helpful as you were.”
Mary shrugged. “I’ll ring her later and make sure she understands how important it is that she help you. I can’t promise that will make any difference, though.”
As Mary walked away, Bessie glanced at her watch and frowned. It was only a few minutes to two and the other restaurant was some distance away. She drained her drink and waved to the waitress. “I need to pay for my lunch,” she told the girl.
“Oh, the other lady took care of it,” the girl told her. “She paid for both of you and left an incredibly generous tip as well. I hope you bring her back again soon.”
Bessie sighed. She hadn’t intended for Mary to pay for lunch. It was too late to argue now, so Bessie simply thanked the waitress and headed out. If she walked quickly enough, she might not be too late for her meeting with Grace.
Chapter Eight
Grace was sitting along the back wall of the restaurant, staring at the menu, when Bessie walked in. She hurried over to the girl, and when Grace looked up, pulled her out of her seat into a hug. Tears were streaming down Grace’s face as she pulled back from Bessie and sat back down.
“You look as if you haven’t slept in days,” Bessie said, her voice full of concern.
“I feel as if I haven’t as well,” Grace replied softly. She wiped her eyes and swallowed hard. After a moment, she managed to force a small smile onto her face. “It’s nice to see you, Aunt Bessie,” she said.
“It’s nice to see you, too,” Bessie replied. “We have so much to discuss, but first, let’s order tea and something sweet.”
“I’m not very hungry,” Grace told her. “Maybe just tea for me.”
“Nonsense,” Bessie said. “If you don’t know what you want, have the chocolate gateau. Chocolate can’t fix everything, but it can definitely make things better.”
Grace’s smile looked more genuine now. “Maybe,” she said.
When the waiter appeared, Bessie ordered tea and chocolate gateau for both of them and Grace didn’t object. Once he’d delivered their drinks, Bessie settled back in her chair and studied the girl.
“This is taking a huge toll on you, isn’t it?” she asked gently.
“It’s stupid, really,” Grace said, frowning down at her cup of tea. “I got jealous of that woman, and now she’s dead and I feel guilty for thinking such horrible things about her. I don’t know where Hugh is and even if I did, I don’t think I want to talk to him. It’s all just a horrible mess. I have to go back to work on Monday and I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop crying long enough to teach a lesson.” Fresh tears were flowing down her face when she finished speaking.
Bessie patted her hand and then handed her a tissue from the pack in the handbag. “First of all, we were all thinking horrible things about Gennifer. They say you mustn’t speak ill of the dead, but she simply wasn’t a nice person and I won’t say she was. Secondly, I do know where Hugh is and if it’s any comfort to you, he doesn’t want to see you until the murderer is found. He thinks you think he killed Gennifer.”
“He’s such an idiot,” Grace said, affection in her voice. “Of course I know he didn’t kill her. I’m just not convinced that he wasn’t attracted to her.”
“She was beautiful and she threw herself at him. He may have handled that badly, but I suspect it was a new experience for him,” Bessie said. “But he loves you and you should never doubt that.”
“Then why hasn’t he asked me to marry him?” Grace demanded. “I thought he was waiting for Christmas, but here we are on the second of January and I still don’t have a ring on my finger, just like Gennifer said.”
“He’s terrified that you’ll say no,” Bessie told her.
“He really is an idiot,” Grace repeated herself, all traces of affection gone from her voice.
Bessie laughed. “He’s a young man with very little real experience with women,” she explained. “He’s fallen head over heels in love with you and he’s at least as terrified as he is happy. He will get around to proposing, you just have to give him a little bit of time.”
Grace shrugged. “I’ve been giving him time,” she complained. “I’m not sure what I want to do now.”
Bessie was silent as the waiter delivered their huge slices of cake. She worked her way through the warm chocolate sponge, the rich and creamy icing and the contrasting vanilla ice cream slowly, letting Grace do the same.
“That was delicious,” Grace said after she’d eaten the last bite of her serving.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” Bessie said. “It seems to have improved your colour as well.”
Grace chuckled. “You were right. It’s improved my mood, too. The world doesn’t look quite so bleak now as it did an hour ago.”
“The police are working on solving Gennifer’s murder, but at the moment it seems as if Hugh is their chief suspect,” Bessie said.
“That’s crazy,” Grace said, shaking her head. “He’s a police constable. He would never kill anyone.”
“John and Doona and I are trying to help Hugh, but they’ve both been reassigned to other stations during the investigation because they’re both suspects,” Bessie continued.
“
Even crazier,” Grace replied. “Does that mean that Inspector Lambert is running the investigation? I didn’t like her one bit.”
“She is,” Bessie confirmed. “Why didn’t you like her?”
“She asked all sorts of questions about my relationship with Hugh that made me uncomfortable. Now that I think back, it does seem like she suspected Hugh of the murder. I didn’t see it that way at the time, but now that you’ve said that, it makes more sense.”
“Can you tell me anything that you think might help John with his unofficial investigation?” Bessie asked.
“Like what?”
“Everyone was in and out of the great room during the evening. Do you remember seeing anyone with Gennifer when you went out of the room?”
“I only went to the nearest loo and back,” Grace said. “I didn’t see anyone except one couple I didn’t know. I think they were Mr. Quayle’s friends. They were arguing about bottles of wine.”
Bessie nodded. “What did you think of Elizabeth’s friends?” she asked, remembering that some of them had joined Grace when she’d moved away from Hugh.
“I didn’t really talk to them enough to form an impression,” Grace said. “They all came over and sat with me, but they really just talked amongst themselves. One of them, Jeremy, was very kind and tried to make conversation with me, but I was too upset to be properly sociable.”
“Do you think he was interested in you, or just being nice?” Bessie had to ask.
Grace blushed. “I couldn’t possibly say,” she exclaimed. “I’m fairly certain I’m not his type, though, considering the type of women he was at the party with.”
“If you had to say who you thought killed Gennifer, who would it be?” Bessie asked.
Grace looked shocked. “I couldn’t possibly, I mean, that’s a job for the police, surely. I can’t imagine anyone killing anyone. Are they really sure it wasn’t an accident?”
“They’re sure,” Bessie said. “And I’d be grateful if you could think about that question for a bit. An answer might be helpful.”
Grace nodded, but she didn’t look convinced. “Is Hugh staying with you, then?” she asked tentatively.
Aunt Bessie Knows Page 12
