Aunt Bessie Likes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 12)

by Diana Xarissa

  The woman’s eyes filled with fresh tears as Bessie struggled to work out how to respond.

  “I suppose that’s one possibility,” Bessie said eventually. “But only one of a number of them.”

  “I lived with the man for several years,” Joanna said. “He wasn’t the smartest or nicest or whatever, but there’s no way he ever killed anyone.”

  “Did you know him back when the girls disappeared?” Bessie asked.

  “You’re as bad as my mother,” Joanna snapped. “No, I didn’t know him then, but no matter how much people change over time, he wasn’t a murderer. I’d have been able to tell.”

  “I’ve met more than my fair share of murders over the past year,” Bessie replied. “One or two might have raised my suspicions when I met them, but for the most part, they all just seemed like perfectly normal people.”

  “Matthew wasn’t bothered about the divorce,” Joanna said. “We had some fun together at first, but it wasn’t working out, that’s all. If I’m honest, I’m not really sure why we got married in the first place, except my mother kept nagging us about it. Who worries about living in sin these days?”

  Bessie pressed her lips together and counted to ten. While she knew she shouldn’t judge other people’s choices, she personally felt that living with someone was a poor substitute for being married. While she’d never been married herself, she’d also never lived with a member of the opposite sex. Things had been different in her youth, of course, but to her mind some things hadn’t improved as the years had passed.

  “Yes, well, mothers always want what they think is best for their children,” she said eventually.

  “Yeah, the key there being what they think is best. Never mind what I thought was best,” Joanna replied. “I didn’t really mind getting married, I suppose, I mean we didn’t have a big wedding or anything, but we got a few presents from friends and family. That’s always nice. Anyway, I was talking about Matthew’s state of mind. He wasn’t unhappy. I can’t understand why he’d kill himself.”

  “When did you see him last?” Bessie asked, feeling nosy.

  “He came home after work around five. I had to work the last shift down at the pub, so I made us both some dinner and then I left for work around six. He wasn’t home when I got back.”

  “Was that unusual?”

  Joanna shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly usual, if you know what I mean, but it wasn’t the first time, either. A lot of times, especially if I was out, he’d go back to the garage for a while. He had a couple of his own projects in the extra garage at the back, and sometimes he’d go and tinker for a while. He was usually home not long after midnight, though.”

  “Were you worried when he didn’t come home?”

  “I worked from six to half twelve,” Joanna told her. “I was exhausted when I got home and went straight to bed. I might have worried, if I’d been awake, but I was fast asleep until the police knocked on my door.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know anything about what happened,” Bessie said. “The only thing I’d heard before you came was that he’d passed away.”

  “Someone stopped to pick up their car this morning and they couldn’t find him anywhere. Apparently, when the walked around the garage, they could hear a car running in that garage at the back where Matthew kept his own things. When they didn’t get an answer to their knocks on the garage door, they rang the police.”

  “How awful,” Bessie said.

  “The police rang the owner of the garage and he brought the key,” Joanna continued. “Matthew was in the garage, sitting on the floor between the two cars he’d been working on. Both engines were running and the entire space was filled with toxic fumes.”

  “Maybe it was an accident,” Bessie said soothingly as the woman began to cry yet again.

  “Matthew worked with cars his entire life,” Joanna replied. “He knew everything about them, including how dangerous they could be. There was no way he would have shut all of the garage doors and then started both engines. Anyway, the police said there was a cloth or something pushed in all along the bottom of the garage’s overhead door, filing in the small gap there. That had to have been put there deliberately and for only one reason.”

  “So if he didn’t kill himself, it was murder,” Bessie said, thinking aloud.

  Joanna gasped. “Surely not,” she protested. “Why would anyone have wanted to kill Matthew? He was hard to live with, but then so are most people. My first husband was much worse and he’s still alive, more’s the pity.”

  Bessie shrugged. “I’m probably chasing shadows,” she said. “But I’m sure the police will be considering the idea as well.”

  “No one had any reason to kill Matthew,” Joanna said. “But then, he didn’t have any reason to kill himself, either.” She sighed deeply. “It’s all just a big mess,” she said sadly.

  “You mentioned the missing girls,” Bessie said. “It does seem possible that Matthew’s death is tied to that somehow.”

  Joanna sat for a moment, seemingly thinking hard. “Matthew must have known who killed those girls,” she said eventually. “Maybe the killer was afraid he’d talk, so he shut him up for good.”

  “As I said, I’m sure the police are considering every possibility,” Bessie said.

  “But which is worse?” Joanna asked her. “I hate the thought of him killing himself, but that seems slightly less horrible than thinking he was murdered.”

  “You should simply mourn the loss of the man you loved,” Bessie told her. “Whatever happened to him, that doesn’t change.”

  Joanna nodded. “I suppose I can do that,” she said. “I think I’d better get home and, well, I need a shower and some clothes. That would be a good start. Thank you for the tea and the conversation.”

  “You’re welcome any time,” Bessie told her. “Do let me know about funeral arrangements and whatnot, won’t you?”

  “Oh, they’ll be something formal in a few days, but there’s going to be a gathering at the pub tonight for friends and family. You’re more than welcome to join us. Peter suggested it. He reckons my friends and family will turn out to support me. We aren’t really expecting much from Matthew’s family.”

  “I may try to come by,” Bessie said. “Is it okay if I bring a friend?”

  “Oh, the more the merrier,” Joanna said. She frowned. “That isn’t exactly what I meant,” she said quietly.

  “I know what you meant,” Bessie assured her. “And I’ll probably see you later.”

  “Any time after six,” Joanna said as she walked to the door. “I’ll probably be there until midnight or later. Officially, I have the night off, but I think I might be better off working, really. I need to find ways to keep my mind occupied, you know?”

  “I’m sure Peter will do what he can to accommodate you,” Bessie said. “I’ll see you later.”

  She let Joanna out and then sat back down at the table and began absentmindedly nibbling her way through another biscuit. When her phone rang, she jumped.

  “Bessie? John and Hugh are too busy to do anything, but I thought maybe you and I could have dinner tonight,” Doona suggested.

  “Yes, let’s,” Bessie agreed. “How about at the Cat and Longtail?”

  “The pub?” Doona asked. “I suppose we could.”

  “Joanna was just here. They’re having a gathering there tonight in memory of Matthew,” Bessie explained. “I told her I’d come for a short while.”

  “Why don’t we have dinner somewhere a bit nicer and then just stop in for a drink after?” Doona suggested.

  Bessie couldn’t argue with that and they quickly agreed on their plans. With less than an hour to go before Doona was due to collect her, Bessie rang Mary.

  “I just wanted to make sure our plans for Hugh and Grace are still on track,” she told her friend.

  “I just talked to Kristen this morning about everything,” Mary told her. “It’s definitely coming together.”

  “Let me know what
else you need from me,” Bessie said, feeling a bit guilty about the work Mary was putting into the surprise. It had been Bessie’s idea and she really should have been taking care of all of the details.

  “I’m so pleased to have this project to work on,” Mary said. “Although I do feel as if I’ve taken it away from you. If you want me to step back, just say so. It’s only because I’ve so much time on my hands right now, with the house coming along nicely and George across for a fortnight.”

  “I didn’t know George was across,” Bessie said.

  “Oh, yes, he’s visiting some old friends that I never liked,” Mary told her with a laugh. “I used having to plan Hugh’s honeymoon as my excuse for not going, so now I feel as if I have to do the work.”

  Bessie laughed. “If you’re happy to do it, I won’t argue,” she said. “I’m quite caught up in Hugh’s cold case.”

  “I hear it’s getting quite hot, that case,” Mary said. “Do be careful, won’t you?”

  “That’s enough fussing,” Bessie said. “And no more ringing the police on me, either.”

  “I am awfully sorry about that,” Mary replied.

  “I know, and I won’t mention it again,” Bessie said. “As long as it never happens again,” she added silently.

  With that phone call out of the way, Bessie went up the stairs to change. She and Doona were going to her favourite restaurant, and she wanted to look nice. When she went through her wardrobe, though, she hesitated over her choice. After dinner, the gathering at the pub was something roughly akin to a memorial service or funeral. While considerably more informal, it still required a certain standard of dress.

  Bessie sighed as she pulled a plain black dress out of her wardrobe. No matter what anyone else was wearing, she wouldn’t feel appropriately dressed for the gathering at the Cat and Longtail in anything else.

  Once she was ready, Bessie found her place in her book and settled in, hoping to get through a chapter before Doona arrived. She laughed at herself when she jumped a short time later. Knowing that Doona was coming hadn’t prepared her for the sudden knock on the door, at least not during the particularly intense scene she was reading.

  “Come in,” she invited her friend. “I hope we can spare two minutes so I can finish this chapter? I know they’ll get out alive, but I’d really like to know how they manage it.”

  Doona laughed and followed Bessie into the sitting room. Bessie grabbed her book and quickly found her place again while Doona plopped herself down on the couch. Two minutes later Bessie shook her head and slid her bookmark into place.

  “Not happy with it?” Doona asked.

  “I hate when authors pull rabbits from hats,” Bessie grumbled. “Or in this case, suddenly have one of the characters reveal a hidden talent for lock picking and the ability to hold his breath for several minutes on end.” She sighed. “It is called fiction for a reason,” she conceded.

  “As I get older, I have less and less patience with books I don’t like,” Doona said. “I actually stopped reading a book after one chapter the other day. I used to force myself to read the entire book, no matter what. Then I decided that if I wasn’t interested once I reached the halfway point, I could stop. Now, I stop whenever I decide I’m bored. I should get through a lot more books that way.”

  Bessie laughed. “I’ll finish this one,” she said. “The big escape was the climax. It’s all just tying up loose ends now and I do want to find out what happens to a few of the characters. Some of them I quite liked, although I must admit that I wasn’t fond of the man who turned out to be half magician and half fish, even before he saved the day.”

  “We really don’t have time for you to finish it now, though,” Doona pointed out, glancing at her watch.

  “Oh, no, it will be exactly what I need when I get home tonight,” Bessie told her as the pair walked back into the kitchen. “Whatever happens at the pub later, I’ll need a nice happy ending to fall asleep with.”

  “Let’s just hope the author didn’t leave a cliffhanger, then,” Doona said.

  “If she did, I won’t buy the next book,” Bessie said stoutly.

  “You could just wait and get it from the library,” Doona suggested.

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Bessie laughed. “I really should spend more time in our local library. When I was younger and I had to be more careful with my money, I used to get nearly all of my reading material from the library. Just because I can afford to buy books now doesn’t mean I should.”

  Bessie found her sensible black flats and slipped them on. She’d already switched her essentials into the matching black handbag. Now she dropped her mobile phone into the bag and smiled at Doona.

  “I’m ready and I’m starving,” she said.

  “Me, too,” Doona replied.

  The drive was a short one and Bessie was happy that they’d made a booking when she saw how full the car park was. “Are they ever not busy?” she asked as Doona squeezed her car into one of the last spaces available.

  “I don’t think so,” Doona replied. “But they do have the best food in Laxey, so it’s hardly surprising.”

  “It’s certainly one of the best restaurants on the whole island,” Bessie said. “Although I do think it was even better when Andy was doing the puddings.”

  Andy Caine had grown up on the island and spent a great deal of his childhood at Bessie’s as he tried to avoid his difficult family life. Once he’d turned eighteen, he’d moved across, only returning to the island during a recent family crisis. When everything was resolved, he’d found himself heir to a great deal of money, which was now allowing him to pursue his dream of attending culinary school. When he finished, he was hoping to open his own restaurant on the island.

  “Ah, Miss Cubbon and Mrs. Moore,” the host greeted them. “We have your table ready for you in a quiet corner.”

  The pair followed the man across the room and settled into their chairs.

  “We have a new menu,” the man told them both. “Many of the old favourites are there, but we’ve add a few new things and made small changes to some of the other menu items as well.”

  Bessie opened her menu and glanced appreciatively at the selection. It was a good thing she was hungry, she thought as she almost immediately spotted several things that sounded good.

  “We also have a new pastry and pudding chef,” the man continued. He glanced around the room and then leaned closer to Bessie. “He isn’t quite in Andy Caine’s league,” he admitted softly. “But he’s quite talented in his own way and he’s done a few clever things with some of our standard offerings.”

  “Maybe I should look at the puddings menu first,” Doona said. “Then I’ll know how much else I want to eat.”

  “I’m happy to share that menu with you now, if you’d like,” the man replied.

  “Oh, no,” Doona said. “I’d be far too tempted to simply get two or three puddings and skip the main course altogether.”

  “I wouldn’t recommend that,” the man told her. “But I know exactly what you mean. I think we should petition the House of Keys to declare one day a year ‘eat pudding first’ day, where you’re allowed to do all those things that aren’t really good for you, but won’t do you any harm once a year.”

  “If you want to run for office on that platform, you’ll get my vote,” Doona told him.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said, winking at her.

  “What a lovely idea,” Doona remarked as she opened her menu.

  “Hm,” was all that Bessie said in reply. Perhaps she was just a touch too old-fashioned, but the very idea of eating pudding before you’d had a nice healthy meal made her uncomfortable.

  “Should we get wine?” Doona asked as the waiter approached.

  “I think I’ll stick to tea for now,” Bessie said. “As we’re heading to the pub later.”

  “Oh, yes, I suppose you’re right,” Doona said, sounding disappointed.

  They placed their orders for drinks and fo
od and then sat back in their chairs.

  “It’s really busy tonight,” Bessie remarked as she looked around the full dining room.

  “As you say, it always is,” Doona replied.

  Bessie nodded and smiled at a few people she recognised around the room.

  “So why are going to the pub later?” Doona asked. “It seems a strange place for a memorial service.”

  “It’s more of an informal gathering,” Bessie explained. “Mostly to support Joanna more than anything else. She’s pretty upset.”

  “From what I’d heard, the pair of them didn’t get along very well,” Doona said. “I wouldn’t expect her to be happy, but I’m surprised she’s upset.”

  “Sudden loss is always upsetting,” Bessie replied. “And she must have loved him once or she wouldn’t have married him.”

  “I’m hardly one to talk,” Doona admitted. “I was devastated when Charles died, even though we’d been apart for two years and I’d filed for divorce. I think I was more upset about missing out on what might have been than what really was, but whatever, I was definitely upset.”

  “I’ll be curious to see who else turns up tonight,” Bessie admitted as the waiter delivered their drinks.

  “Who are you expecting?” Doona asked.

  “That’s just it,” Bessie explained. “I’m not sure who to expect. It might be just you and me and Joanna, or nearly everyone involved in the Kelly girls’ cold case could show up. I imagine the reality will be somewhere between those two extremes.”

  “You’re not to question suspects,” Doona said quickly.

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Bessie said airily.

  Doona frowned. “Maybe I should ring John and have him meet us there,” she said thoughtfully.

  “Didn’t you say he was busy tonight?”

  “I did. There’s a lot going on at the old Grantham place still, and now there’s a new crime scene to investigate.”

  Bessie opened her mouth to ask a question, but Doona held up a hand.

  “I should say potential crime scene,” she said quickly. “Under the circumstances, no one is rushing to any conclusions on what happened to Matthew Kelly just yet.”