Aunt Bessie's Holiday

by Diana Xarissa

  “I work for the Isle of Man Constabulary and I think I know a crime scene when I see one,” Doona explained. “If I’m wrong, I’ll apologise to the police when they get here.”

  “You’ve already rung them?” Lawrence asked. He shook his head. “Stupid, crazy, hysterical women, who needs them?” he muttered under his breath.

  Bessie was about to give him an earful, but Harold interrupted.

  “I’ve rung Joe. He’s on his way,” he said.

  “Excellent,” Lawrence said. “Joe Klein is our head of security. When he arrives, he will escort you and your friend out of the staff area, and, if I have anything to say about it, off Lakeside Holiday Park property altogether,” Lawrence told Doona haughtily.

  Doona rolled her eyes at Bessie and then leaned back against the wall again. Bessie felt as if she might go mad listening to the large clock on the wall as it ticked off the minutes while they waited. Each tick seemed reluctant to follow on from the previous one and Bessie was certain at one point that several minutes went by before she heard another reluctant tick.

  When the hallway door opened again, Bessie was eager to inspect the new arrival. The man who walked towards them had the look of a career policeman. His eyes were cool and assessing as he took in the scene. Bessie would have guessed that he was probably in his sixties. He was wearing a brown uniform and carrying an extra twenty pounds, mostly around his waist.

  “Is there a problem?” he asked, his voice low.

  “These ladies need to be escorted out of this area,” Lawrence said loudly. “They aren’t meant to be back here.”

  “I’m sorry, ladies, but Mr. Jenkins is correct. This is a staff area. If you’ll just come along with me,” the man said.

  “I told the police that I would stay here and make sure no one entered the crime scene,” Doona told him. Bessie was surprised at how steady her friend’s voice sounded.

  “Crime scene?” the man repeated. “I’m Joe Klein, the head of security at Lakeview Holiday Park, so if there’s a crime, I suppose I ought to know about it.”

  “Charles Adams has been murdered,” Doona told him. “I found the body when I went to meet with him a short time ago.”

  “Murdered? That’s a pretty serious accusation. Maybe I better check it out,” Joe said.

  “The police aren’t going want the scene compromised,” Doona said.

  “I was a cop for nearly forty years,” he told Doona. “I think I know what I’m doing.”

  Bessie could tell that Doona was reluctant to let the man look into the office. If only the police would hurry up and get there, Bessie thought.

  “Joe, get them out of here,” Lawrence said tightly. “We can sort out whatever has happened to Charles once they’ve gone.”

  The security officer shook his head. “I think I’d better see what she’s talking about before I chase anyone away,” he told Lawrence.

  Doona stepped back reluctantly and let Joe open the office door. Bessie was standing in just the right place to see far more than she wanted to see.

  Joe glanced into the room and then looked hard at Lawrence. “We’ll all be waiting nice and patiently for the police to get here,” he told him.

  “Ridiculous,” Lawrence snapped. He pushed Bessie to the side, heading towards the still open office door.

  Joe put out his arm to stop him. “You can have a look if you really want to,” Joe said. “But I think you’ll be sorry you did.”

  Harold also appeared to take that as an invitation and he quickly crowded forward as well. The two men stared into the small office and then both spun around.

  “Can’t you take care of this?” Lawrence asked Joe. “I mean, you were with the police. Surely you can handle something like this.”

  Joe shook his head. “Murder is well outside of the remit of our security team,” he said firmly. “You know as well as I do that we have to notify the local constabulary for serious issues. I can’t think of anything more serious than this.”

  “There could be sensitive documents on the desk in there,” Lawrence said. “At least let me go in and collect the papers that Charles was working with.”

  “I think just about everything on the desk is covered in blood,” Joe told him. “Anyway, the police aren’t interested in how he was running Lakeview. All they’ll want to do is work out who killed him.”

  “But he wasn’t just managing this site,” Lawrence argued. “We were working on purchasing some other properties. I can’t have news of that leaking out before we’re ready.”

  “You aren’t going in there,” Joe said firmly. “Maybe you and Harold should go and sit in his office for a while. You did say that the police are on their way, right?” he asked Doona.

  “That’s what they said, but it seems to be taking a long time for them to get here,” Doona replied.

  Joe nodded and then pulled out his mobile phone. He took a few steps away from the group and spoke quietly into it for several minutes. Bessie couldn’t make out what he was saying, but at least the noise covered up the incessant slow ticking of the hallway clock.

  As Joe spoke, he walked further back up the corridor. Bessie was startled when Lawrence suddenly ran towards Charles’s office door. Doona grabbed his arm, but he pushed her backwards, hard. As she fell to the ground, Joe managed to get his hand on Lawrence’s shoulder.

  “Trying to hide the evidence?” A cool voice that sounded amused floated down the corridor.

  Bessie turned and looked at the pretty, fifty-something woman who was walking towards them. She was wearing a blue suit and her brown hair, caught up in a tidy bun, was streaked with grey. Her eyes were the same colour as the streaks in her hair. Now she looked at each of them in turn, a faint smile on her face. Doona climbed back to her feet as Lawrence spoke.

  “I was just hoping to retrieve some important papers,” he said, clearly frustrated.

  The new arrival glanced into the office and then shook her head. “You should know better,” she said sternly. “We shouldn’t have to keep talking about what your security team can and can’t do.”

  “I’m more worried about keeping my business confidential than in arguing over jurisdiction,” Lawrence said.

  “And I’m more interested in finding out who murdered Charles Adams than I am in your business,” the woman shot back.

  The hallway was now becoming crowded with men and women, some in police uniforms and others who must have been crime scene team members. The woman glanced at all the new arrivals and then took a deep breath.

  “Right, I’m Inspector Margaret Hopkins, for those of you who don’t know me,” she said, addressing her comment towards Bessie and Doona. “Those of you who do know me,” she said, looking directly at Lawrence, “will know I take the job of investigating very seriously. This is murder and my job doesn’t get more serious than that.”

  She pointed to someone in the crowd of new arrivals and a man came forward. After a quiet conversation, he disappeared back into the crowd.

  “Margaret, please, I know that finding out what happened to Charles is important, but if I could just have five minutes in his office, I’d really appreciate it,” Lawrence said.

  “Call me Inspector Hopkins,” she said. “And no, you may not have five minutes in the office. In fact, I think it’s probably in everyone’s best interest if you go down to my office and wait there. I’m sure we’ll have plenty to discuss once I’ve had a chance to inspect the scene.”

  “Your office? I don’t think so,” Lawrence said stiffly. “I have a holiday park to look after.”

  “What exactly is your title here?” the inspector asked, voicing the very question that Bessie was thinking.

  “I’m, well, that is, I’m a business associate of the park’s general manager,” he said.

  “So you don’t actually work for Lakeview Holiday Park?” the woman asked.

  Lawrence flushed. “No, not as such,” he muttered.

  “Then I can’t imagine anyone will miss you i
f you’re not here,” the woman said with a satisfied smile. “And as it’s your partner who’s been brutally murdered, I’m sure you’ll want to do everything you can to help us find the man or woman responsible for such a horrific crime.”

  “Well, yes, but, I mean….”

  Inspector Hopkins held up her hand. “I think you need to gather your thoughts,” she said in a kindly voice. “I’m going to have someone take you down into town. I’ll be there in a few hours and we can talk then.”

  Lawrence opened his mouth, presumably to protest, but she deliberately turned her back on him and began a whispered conversation with one of the men in a white lab coat. A uniformed constable stepped forward and smiled nervously.

  “Sir, if you’d like to come with me,” he said to Lawrence.

  “I’d rather not,” Lawrence told him. “But your bi, er, boss, doesn’t seem to have given me much choice.”

  “No, sir, she hasn’t,” he agreed.

  Bessie and Doona exchanged glances and Bessie quickly looked down to hide a smile. It was nice to see the unpleasant man being dealt with. When Lawrence and his escort had disappeared through the door at the top of the corridor, Margaret Hopkins turned back to them.

  “Joe, thanks for keeping him under control until I got here,” she said to the security chief. “Goodness knows what evidence he would have trampled all over in order to find whatever he’s after.”

  “Just doing my job,” Joe said with a shrug. “I’d still be doing your job under other circumstances.”

  The woman smiled. “Most days you could have it,” she told him.

  He laughed. “Yeah, well, maybe not,” he replied.

  “Do you have anything to report before I start?” she asked him now.

  “Nothing that needs discussing before you’ve gone through the scene,” he told her.

  “Great. If you have other things to do, you’re welcome to leave. I’ll find you when I’m ready for a full report. If you want to stay and help, that’s okay, too,” she said.

  “I’ll stay and work the scene, if I may,” he replied. “It’s been a while, but I think I still remember how.”

  The inspector nodded and then turned her attention to Harold Butler. “Mr. Butler, it looks like you just got your old job back,” she said.

  Harold blushed and then turned pale. “I hope you aren’t hinting that I had anything to do with, well, that,” he said hotly, gesturing towards the open office door.

  “I wasn’t hinting anything,” she replied in a measured tone. “Merely making an observation. If you’d like to wait in your office, I’m sure I’ll have a great many questions for you shortly.”

  “Yes, of course,” he said sulkily. He stomped off down the corridor, eventually turning into one of the offices. A moment later that office door swung noisily shut.

  “That just leaves you two,” the inspector said, her eyes moving from Bessie to Doona and back again. “I assume one of you is the woman who found the body.”

  “That would be me,” Doona admitted.

  “How far into the room did you walk?” the inspector asked.

  “Not very far at all,” Doona replied. “I knocked but didn’t get a reply. I was just going to leave, but then I decided I’d leave Charles a note if the office wasn’t locked. I tried the handle and it wasn’t locked, so I pushed the door open and, well, you know what I saw.”

  The other woman nodded. “And you immediately rang the police?”

  “I did. I work for the Isle of Man Constabulary. I’m just civilian front desk staff, but I know enough about criminal investigations to know what to do in such situations, which is ring 999 and keep everyone out of the way.”

  “Precisely,” the woman agreed. “So I’m left with just you,” she said, turning to Bessie. “Can you tell me, in ten words or less, what you’re doing here?”

  “Doona rang me for moral support after she rang you,” Bessie replied.

  “Exactly ten, very good,” the woman said. “I can tell we’re going to have an interesting conversation later.”

  She turned away and motioned for one of the uniformed men to join her. “Jack, please take these ladies out into the food court and sit with them until I’m free. They can get something to eat or drink if they want, but I’d rather they didn’t chat with one another or anyone else.”

  “Yes, inspector,” he replied.

  Bessie and Doona followed Jack out of the crowded hallway and back into the large food court. Bessie blinked in surprise at the sheer number of people who were now packed into the space. It felt to her as if everyone around stopped to stare as the uniformed constable escorted her and Doona to one of the very few empty tables.

  Bessie sank down into a seat. She was surprised to find that she suddenly felt like crying. It was probably more to do with shock and tiredness than anything else, she decided. The only things she knew about Charles Adams were not things that would make her mourn his passing.

  “Did you ladies want tea or something to eat?” the constable asked.

  “I’m fine,” Doona said blandly.

  “Me, too,” Bessie replied. She sat back in her seat and shut her eyes. Her brain immediately flashed up an image of what she’d seen in Charles Adams’s office. The body had been lying across the desk and there had been blood seemingly everywhere. Bessie sat up straight and opened her eyes.

  “Then again, tea might be nice,” she said loudly.

  The constable looked around and then caught the eye of one of the women who was clearing tables. He gestured to her to come over.

  “Could you possibly get some tea for these two ladies?” he asked her.

  “There isn’t any table service in here,” the woman told him. “You have to go to the counter.”

  “Yes, well, that’s rather difficult,” the man said. He leaned closer to the woman and whispered. “They’re under police guard, you see,” he hissed. “I can’t leave them alone and I can’t let them go wandering off.”

  The woman looked at Bessie and Doona and then back at Jack. “Really? Did they have something to do with all the excitement in the offices, then? Someone said there was a robbery or something.”

  “Or something,” Jack said. “I can’t tell you anything and I can’t let them talk to anyone, you see. But they’re really nice ladies and they’ve had a rough morning. They could use a cup of tea and a biscuit each.”

  The woman nodded. “I’ll get them something,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Bessie told the man. “I really could use a cuppa.”

  “I thought as much,” the man replied. “I can’t imagine you’re used to finding dead bodies.”

  Bessie glanced at Doona and then had to swallow hard to suppress the rueful chuckle that bubbled up inside of her. Finding dead bodies seemed to be her latest hobby, but that was the last thing she wanted to tell the young policeman. He might get altogether the wrong idea about her.

  Three cups of tea and a generous plate full of biscuits were delivered only moments later. Bessie took a sip of the hot liquid and then sat back in her chair with a chocolate digestive. She nibbled it slowly, letting her thoughts wander. Charles was dead and there seemed no shortage of likely suspects for his murder.

  “I’m sorry,” Doona said after a moment. “I shouldn’t have dragged you into the corridor. We’ve missed our walk.”

  “I wouldn’t have gone without you,” Bessie replied. “And you shouldn’t have been alone there with the body.”

  “Ladies, please,” the young policeman interrupted. “Inspector Hopkins did ask that you not speak to one another while you wait.”

  “Sorry,” Doona said. “It’s been a tough morning and sitting here in silence is hard.”

  “Maybe we should have a little chat, then,” a voice said from behind Doona.

  “Inspector Hopkins,” the policeman jumped up. “I, er, I got them some tea and biscuits, for while they were waiting.”

  “So I see,” she said. “And a cup for yourself.”


  “I didn’t ask for it,” he said nervously. “The lady just brought three cups.”

  “And several dozen biscuits,” the inspector remarked. She leaned over and grabbed herself several. “Harold is allowing us to use an empty office for our interviews,” she said now. “I’d like to start with you, as you found the body,” she told Doona.

  “Yes, of course,” Doona said, her face pale.

  Bessie watched as Doona stood up shakily and then slowly followed the senior policewoman back through the “Staff” door.

  “Is she your daughter?” the policeman asked, sounding sympathetic.

  “No, just a very dear friend,” Bessie replied.

  Whenever Bessie found herself spending time with a stranger, she usually engaged him or her in conversation. She was fascinated by people and loved hearing all about their lives and their families. Today, though, she simply couldn’t find the energy to start a discussion with the young man sitting with her. Instead, she sat back and watched the crowd, steadily eating her way through several biscuits.

  She noticed Andrew Cheatham, their next-door neighbour, as he walked through the large space. He had two small children with him, one holding on to each of his hands. Bessie smiled as the little trio joined the short queue for ice cream. After they’d gone, Bessie looked at her watch. She was surprised to find that Doona had only been gone for around half an hour.

  “Is this the first murder you’ve had to investigate at Lakeview?” Bessie asked the man sitting across from her.

  He looked startled for a moment before he replied. “Murder doesn’t happen often anywhere,” he said.

  Bessie didn’t argue. “I suppose the park’s own security handles pretty much everything else,” she said.

  “They do,” he agreed. “Although we have been called out for the occasional thing. Sometimes guests prefer to deal with us rather than rely on the park’s security team.”

  “Mr. Klein seemed to know what he was doing,” Bessie suggested.

  “Oh, Joe’s great,” the man agreed. “But there are certain rules about what has to be reported to us.”

  “I see,” Bessie replied. “What sorts of things….”