Aunt Bessie's Holiday

by Diana Xarissa

  Before Doona said anything, Mai dashed away.

  “That was odd,” Bessie said.

  “Just more VIP treatment,” Doona said with a shrug.

  “I suppose,” Bessie replied. “Anyway, are you ready for something to eat?”

  Doona sat down at the small table. When she looked over at Bessie, Bessie could see tears in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong?” Bessie asked.

  “Let’s go for a walk,” Doona suggested, as a large party headed towards their corner.

  “Of course,” Bessie agreed quickly.

  The pair walked out of the building and made their way around the lake. Doona was silent and Bessie walked along beside her, wishing she knew how to help her friend.

  A large car with “Security” written down the side of it was parked in front of the Rainbow Arts Centre.

  “It seems weird to see a car,” Bessie remarked. “We haven’t really seen any since Sunday.”

  Doona murmured something that Bessie didn’t quite catch. Just then the door to the building swung open and Joe Klein walked out, a scowl on his face. As his eyes met Bessie’s, he at least attempted a smile.

  “Good afternoon, ladies,” he said.

  “Good afternoon,” Bessie replied. “I do hope everything is okay?”

  “Everything is fine,” Joe assured her. “We had a small problem here, but it’s nothing to worry about.”

  “Whenever people say that, I always worry,” Bessie told him with a smile.

  Joe chuckled, but it sounded forced. “After what happened on Monday, I’m not surprised you’re worried,” he said. “But compared to that, this was a minor inconvenience.”

  “Do you have any theories about what happened to Charles?” Bessie had to ask.

  Joe looked at Doona for a moment and then shook his head. “Not my place to be developing theories,” he told her. “Inspector Hopkins has that job and she’s welcome to it.”

  Joe took a couple of steps towards his car, with Bessie following closely. Doona wandered a few paces in the opposite direction, finally sitting down on a bench near the building’s front door.

  Bessie glanced at Doona and then smiled at Joe. “Obviously, Doona’s very upset about Charles’s death,” she said.

  “Obviously,” the man echoed.

  “Did Charles have any enemies?”

  Joe shrugged. “As I said, it isn’t my place to get involved,” he said, glancing around nervously.

  “Is Harold going to get his old job back now, then?” Bessie asked. “He seems like such a nice man.”

  “That’s up to the company that owns the park,” Joe said. “I just do my job and try to avoid getting caught up in the management’s hassles.”

  “But you’re head of security. That’s an important job.”

  Joe laughed. “Mostly I walk around the park and listen to parents tell their children that if they don’t behave I’ll take them away,” he said, his tone somewhat harsh. “Once in a while someone will misplace something and start shouting about it being stolen, but in the two years I’ve been here, we’ve always managed to find whatever was lost. This murder was the first real crime we’ve had since I’ve been here, but of course it’s not my place to get involved.”

  “I do hope the inspector isn’t taking that attitude,” Bessie said. “You’ve all the insider knowledge that she needs to work out what happened.”

  Joe opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. After a moment he sighed. “Let’s just say the inspector has her own way of doing things,” he said quietly.

  It seemed clear to Bessie that the man resented being sidelined during the murder investigation. “I don’t know about Lawrence Jenkins,” Bessie said, keeping her tone conversational. “I’m not even sure what he does here. What is his job title?”

  “He’s here from the corporate headquarters,” Joe told her. “He showed up about three weeks ago and started giving orders.”

  “I’ve heard that Charles was interested in cutting costs. Is that what Lawrence is here for, as well?”

  Joe shrugged. “When Charles first arrived he cut my security team in half,” he replied. “I suppose you could call that cost cutting, couldn’t you? I’ve barely spoken to Lawrence, but I can’t see where they could reduce my staff any further, so maybe he doesn’t need to talk to me.”

  “Maybe if the park had better security Charles wouldn’t have been murdered,” Bessie suggested.

  “Sort of ironic, isn’t it?” Joe replied with an unpleasant grin.

  “I understand Monique isn’t feeling well,” Bessie said, changing the subject abruptly to see what sort of reaction she’d get.

  “She’s off sick more than she’s in work,” Joe told her. “If Nathan wasn’t so devoted to her, I think Harold would have fired her a long time ago.”

  “I’m surprised she survived Charles’s cost cutting.”

  “Oh, she and Charles got along well,” Joe replied. “He had enough problems with Nathan with regard to food costs. He wasn’t going to fire the man’s wife.”

  “What do you know about Jessica and Herbert Howe?” Bessie asked, changing the subject yet again.

  “Jessica was here a lot,” Joe said. “She arrived for a week right after Charles came and she’s been back regularly since. I think Charles had finished with her, but she was having trouble accepting that.”

  “Really? What about Herbert? Does he always come with her?”

  “No,” Joe shook his head. “He came with her for a week last month. All they did all week long was argue all over the park. Harold finally had to speak to them both about their behaviour.”

  “But he came back again with her this time,” Bessie said thoughtfully.

  “And they’ve been arguing up a storm again,” Joe replied. “Although for the most part they’ve kept the fights more private. Mostly they’ve been shouting at each other in their lodge. We’ve had a few complaints from the neighbours, but not that many.”

  “So why do they stay together?” Bessie asked.

  “She’s stays for the money,” Joe said. “Why he puts up with her is beyond me, though.”

  “What’s Mai’s connection with Lawrence?” Bessie tried a different direction, hoping the man would continue to be forthcoming.

  “I’m not sure, but there’s something there,” he replied. “She’s another one that gets special treatment. From Charles and from Lawrence, though I don’t know why.”

  “Bessie, we need to talk,” Doona’s voice carried across the space.

  Bessie smiled at Joe. “It’s been interesting talking with you,” she told the man.

  “Likewise,” he said. He nodded at Doona and then crossed to his car.

  Bessie watched as he drove away, then she joined Doona on the bench.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked her friend, suddenly concerned by how pale and miserable Doona looked.

  “I’m pretty sure Margaret Hopkins is going to be back to ask us more questions later,” Doona told her. “And there’s something you need to know before she starts.”

  “What?”

  Doona shook her head. “I’m sorry I wasn’t totally honest with you,” she said, her voice shaking.

  Bessie took Doona’s hands and held them tightly. “Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad,” she said soothingly. “I’m your friend and I love you. It will be okay.”

  Doona stared into Bessie’s eyes for a moment before looking away. “I’m sorry,” she repeated quietly. “The thing is, Charles and I were still married.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Bessie sat in stunned silence for a moment, her mind racing. Doona pulled her hands away and covered her face. Bessie quickly put her arm around her friend.

  “I’m sure you can explain,” she said, her voice a bit too loud.

  “Of course I can,” Doona replied without looking up. “I never set out to lie to you, but things just got so complicated.”

  Bessie rubbed Doona’s shoulders and then gently t
ook her hands again. She pulled them away from her friend’s face and stared into Doona’s eyes. “I thought you told me, two years ago, that you and Charles had divorced,” she said, working to keep from sounding accusatory.

  Doona shrugged. “Do you remember when we first met, I told you that working out the divorce was complicated?”

  Bessie thought back and then nodded. “There was some problem because you hadn’t been married for very long,” she remembered.

  “Exactly, you can’t even apply for a divorce on the Isle of Man until you’ve been married at least a year,” Doona told her. “And then you have to have a good reason for applying as well.”

  “Surely adultery is a good reason,” Bessie said.

  “It is, if you can prove it.”

  “But you had all the things you were sent.”

  Doona sighed. “When I got back from the trip after I saw Charles with Jessica, I gathered together everything that Charles had ever given me and I had a huge bonfire with it. And when it was really blazing, I threw the envelope on the fire.”

  “Oh,” Bessie said flatly.

  “I know,” Doona replied. “I was so upset that I simply wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t really know anything about divorce law on the island. When my first husband and I split up, it was amicable and neither of us really cared how long it took to work its way though the courts.” She looked down at the ground and Bessie could see the tears flowing down her face.

  “So without the evidence, you couldn’t get the divorce?” Bessie asked.

  “I had to wait until we’d been married a year to even apply,” Doona told her. “When I talked to my advocate, we agreed that the easiest thing to do would be to wait until we’d been separated for two years and then apply, using the separation as the reason.”

  “Surely you could have gathered more evidence of his cheating?” Bessie suggested.

  Doona flushed. “I didn’t really want to pursue that,” she admitted quietly. “I didn’t want everyone on the island to know that Charles had cheated on me. I was embarrassed.”

  Bessie hugged her friend. “It certainly wasn’t your fault that the man cheated,” she said indignantly. “You had nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “I suppose,” Doona said with a shrug. “Anyway, I think I told you that my advocate and I had worked everything out once we’d decided to wait the two years. I meant to give you the impression that the divorce was settled, even though it wasn’t. I’m sorry, but I simply wanted to put the whole ugly episode out of my mind.”

  Bessie hugged her again. “I understand,” she said. “And I can see you not wanting to have to think about it. Having to wait the two years is hard enough, without constantly having to think about it.”

  “I thought about it quite a bit anyway,” Doona admitted. “But I didn’t want to have to talk about it. Doncan rang me a month ago to let me know that he’d sent the paperwork to Charles’s solicitor. All we needed was Charles’s signature and it would have all been over.”

  Doncan Quayle was Bessie’s advocate as well, so Bessie was certain that Doona was getting the best possible advice and assistance. “But Charles didn’t sign before he died?” Bessie guessed.

  “According to his solicitor, he wasn’t going to sign,” Doona said. “And without his signature, I’d have to wait another three years to get the divorce.”

  Bessie swallowed hard. It seemed as if Doona had an even stronger motive for the murder than she’d realised. “And Margaret Hopkins knows all of this?”

  “She knew some it almost immediately,” Doona replied. “I told her, when she first questioned me, that the divorce wasn’t final yet. I gather Charles’s solicitor has now been questioned and he’s told her that Charles wasn’t going to sign the papers.”

  “So where does all of this leave you?” Bessie asked.

  “I’d imagine it leaves me as Margaret’s chief suspect,” Doona said sadly. “It also leaves me in a weird position here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Charles owned some part of the company that owns the park,” Doona explained. “Lawrence suggested to me that I might still be Charles’s heir.”

  “Surely someone will contest the will,” Bessie said thoughtfully.

  “I’ve no doubt Lawrence will want to fight it, if such a will even exists,” Doona replied. “But for the moment, everything seems to be on hold. Apparently Charles’s solicitor won’t even consider a formal reading of the will until the murderer is caught.”

  “Can he do that?”

  Doona shrugged. “I’ve no idea. I think I’m his chief suspect as well.”

  Bessie frowned at the misery in her friend’s voice. “Well, that’s just nonsense,” she said stoutly. “I know you didn’t kill Charles, even if you had plenty of provocation.”

  “And a very strong motive,” Doona added.

  “So what?”

  “And access to the murder weapon,” Doona continued. “That’s assuming that the knife from our lodge was the murder weapon, but I think that’s a fair assumption.”

  “Doesn’t matter,” Bessie said firmly.

  “And, of course, plenty of opportunity,” Doona concluded. “I’ve admitted to going out for a walk that night. I’ve even admitted that I saw Charles outside the Squirrel’s Drey. I can’t prove that I hid from him and walked away.”

  Bessie shook her head. “Motive, means and opportunity aren’t everything,” she said. “There’s a human element that matters as well. You simply aren’t a murderer.”

  “I know that, but I’m not sure anyone else does,” Doona said with a sigh.

  “Maybe we need to work out who is,” Bessie suggested. “Before Margaret Hopkins starts looking in the wrong direction.”

  “I’ve been trying to think it through,” Doona said. “But I simply can’t think straight.”

  “It seems to me,” Bessie said thoughtfully, “that just about everyone had means and opportunity. Charles was alone in the building, or at least alone with the killer. Anyone could have arranged to meet with him there after hours, couldn’t they?”

  Doona nodded. “I thought that as well. I know we have a list of suspects, but really anyone in the park could have made an appointment to see him, or even just turned up and surprised him.”

  “So we’re back to suspecting every single person at Lakeview,” Bessie said with a sigh.

  “Except we haven’t talked about motive,” Doona reminded her.

  “And we’ve no idea who might have known Charles in the past,” Bessie said. “Maybe one of the guests had an affair with him ten years ago, and when she saw him again, she just had to kill him.”

  “Anything is possible,” Doona admitted. “I think we have to hope that isn’t the case, though. We need to focus on the people we know had a motive.”

  “So Jessica and Herbert Howe, Harold Butler, Lawrence Jenkins, maybe Nathan Beck; who am I forgetting?” Bessie asked.

  “I’d add Monique Beck and Mai Stratton to the list,” Doona said. “And Joe Klein, just because he makes me nervous.”

  Bessie sat back on the bench and closed her eyes, trying to think. It felt like there was something she was missing, but she couldn’t work out what it was. Her stomach growled loudly and interrupted her thinking.

  “Maybe we should talk after dinner,” Doona suggested with a faint smile.

  “I’m fine,” Bessie said, ignoring another rumble.

  “Let’s go get some food,” Doona said, getting to her feet. “I’m pretty sure I’m due for more questioning. Maybe we can eat before the questions this time.”

  Bessie and Doona headed back towards the Squirrel’s Drey. Bessie was aware that she was watching closely for Margaret Hopkins as they went.

  “I keep thinking every woman is Inspector Hopkins,” Doona whispered as they went past a large group of men and women.

  “I know what you mean,” Bessie agreed.

  They reached the short row of restaurants. There was a shor
t queue in front of the Italian restaurant and an even longer one in front of the American one. Only the French restaurant looked quiet.

  “We said we’d try the Italian, didn’t we?” Bessie murmured.

  “I’m not sure I want to wait in the queue,” Doona replied. “But I’m not sure I want to eat at L’Expérience Anglaise either.”

  “Maybe we can ask Nathan a few discreet questions,” Bessie suggested. “Apparently Monique isn’t well. Maybe she killed Charles and the guilt is proving to be too much for her.”

  “I doubt it,” Doona said. “She strikes me as the type who could stab a man without batting an eyelash.”

  Bessie looked at her friend, surprised at the harsh assessment of the young girl. “I take it you don’t like Monique,” she said.

  “I don’t like anyone right now,” Doona said with a sigh. “Don’t mind me. I’m just looking for someone I can blame Charles’s murder on. I really just want this all to be over.”

  “Let’s go get some dinner and see what we can find out,” Bessie said, turning and heading towards L’Expérience Anglaise. Doona followed.

  “Ah, customers,” Mai said as they walked in. “What a nice surprise.”

  “All the other restaurants are quite busy, and we’re very hungry,” Bessie told her.

  “And we’re very quiet because everyone has heard how bad the food was the other day when Nathan was having his temper tantrum,” Mai said, too loudly.

  “I do hope he’s feeling better tonight,” Bessie said.

  “I haven’t had any complaints,” Mai said. “But then, we haven’t had all that many customers. Follow me.”

  Bessie was surprised at how empty the dining room was when they walked in. Only three other tables were occupied; a total of six other customers in all.

  “How about a quiet booth at the back?” Mai suggested, leading the women to the far side of the restaurant.

  “This is fine,” Bessie said, happy to be at a table almost as far as they could be from where they’d sat on their last two visits to the place.

  Mai handed them each a menu and then took their drink order. Bessie and Doona had a quick chat about the menu, both deciding to try something completely different. Once Mai had delivered their glasses of wine and taken their food order, Bessie sat back, determined to try to relax. Mai delivered a basket of fresh bread rolls and butter, and the friends were pleased to find that they were delicious.