Aunt Bessie Provides (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 16)

by Diana Xarissa

  “It isn’t as busy now as it was twenty years ago. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble booking a hotel for August, unless you try to come during the races.”

  “Oh, goodness, I’d forgotten about the races. We’ll definitely want to miss those. I shall ring my travel agent this afternoon and see what she can find. I wonder if Harry would prefer to fly or take the ferry. The ferry isn’t much like a cruise ship, of course. Perhaps flying would be best.”

  “I suspect Hugh will want to talk to Harry, just to cross him off the list,” Bessie said.

  “Oh, of course. Harry won’t mind a bit. If you have a pen and some paper handy, I can give you his contact details.” Barbara gave Bessie the man’s home, work, and mobile telephone numbers and his home address. “I don’t have his office address at the university written down, but I’m sure you can find that easily enough,” she told Bessie.

  “I’m sure Hugh won’t need it. He’ll be able to find Harry at one of these numbers or at home.”

  “I’ll ring Harry and let him know to expect Hugh to ring.”

  “Hugh might have someone from the local constabulary actually visit Harry,” Bessie warned. “Sometimes that’s preferable to ringing.”

  “Oh, Harry would love that,” Barbara laughed. “He’s fascinated by police dramas on the telly. I’m sure he’d be thrilled to have a uniformed constable knocking on his door.”

  Bessie was still smiling at the idea when she put the phone down a short time later. She hoped that Barbara and Harry would visit the island. She’d welcome the chance to see them both again. Hugh was happy to hear from her when she rang his flat.

  “She’s given you so many details that I can’t imagine she’s making them up,” he said. “But I’ll have someone pop by his house today, if they can. It shouldn’t take very long to confirm his identity and maybe he’ll have some idea of who the body might belong to.”

  “I didn’t think to ask Barbara about that,” Bessie said, frowning.

  “She moved a year before her son, though, didn’t she? She probably wouldn’t have been able to help.”

  Bessie wasn’t sure she agreed, but she hadn’t thought to ask the woman for her number, either. She put the phone down again and then sighed. She still hadn’t worked out what she wanted to do with her day and now the morning was half over.

  Chapter 10

  After giving it some thought, Bessie decided that she needed another walk. She’d eaten far too many fairy cakes in the past twenty-four hours. A brisk walk up the hill to the local shop was just what she needed. What she didn’t need to do was buy chocolate when she got there, she told herself sternly as she pulled on her shoes. She still had a number of chocolate fairy cakes; she didn’t need chocolate anyway.

  “Bessie, lovely to see you again,” Anne said from the corner of the shop as Bessie walked in. “Just watch your step, please. One of the refrigerated units is leaking. I’m mopping it up as fast as I can.”

  “Oh dear, I hope there isn’t too much mess,” Bessie replied.

  “It’s not too bad. I’m going to try to move everything into the other units so that I can switch the broken one off, but I don’t know if there is enough room in the others for everything that’s perishable.”

  “You could take some of the fizzy drinks out of their case,” Bessie suggested. “They don’t need to be kept cold.”

  “No, but no one will want to buy them if they aren’t,” Anne sighed. “I’ve rung the owner and he’s meant to be finding someone to repair the unit, but I’d be willing to bet no one will turn up before Tuesday or Wednesday.”

  “I know a few people you could ring,” Bessie offered.

  “It’s not my problem,” Anne replied cheerfully. “I mean, I have to mop the floor and I’m going to try moving things around, but really, if it all goes wrong, it isn’t my problem. And I couldn’t care less if the owner fires me, as well.”

  Bessie grinned. “In that case, I won’t worry about it.”

  “I’m not, at least not really. But what can I do for you today?”

  “I was just bored and too full of fairy cakes to sit at home,” Bessie replied. “Your son is an incredibly talented baker.”

  “Oh, don’t I know it,” Anne laughed. “I think I ate ten of them last night after dinner, and dinner was delicious as well. At this rate, I’m going to gain two or three stone before he goes back to school.”

  “But you’ll still be sorry when he’s gone.”

  “Oh, yes, I miss him terribly when he isn’t here. I always did, but I used to be happy that he was across because that kept him away from Jack. Now that Jack is out of our lives, I can’t wait for Andy to move home for good.”

  “Do you ever hear anything from Jack?”

  “No, not really. My advocate is dealing with the divorce. He did try to get in touch with Andy, but Andy isn’t interested in having a relationship with him. They never got along and I’m pretty sure Andy was delighted to find out that Jack wasn’t really his father. Anyway, we both know that Jack only got in touch because he wanted some of Andy’s money. Luckily for us, he doesn’t have any legal claim to any of it, though.”

  “I’m really happy for you and Andy,” Bessie said.

  “Yes, you’re one of the few who actually means it, as well,” Anne said. “You wouldn’t believe how many more friends I have now than I did when I was dirt poor and struggling to put food on the table.”

  “What a shame.”

  “It isn’t too bad. Once I point out that I didn’t actually inherit anything, and that all of the money belongs to Andy, my new friends seem to disappear pretty quickly. I’m just happy that I’ve also kept a few of my old friends, the ones like you who did stand by me when I was in trouble.”

  The bell on the shop door buzzed and a young couple came in holding hands and whispering together. They glanced around the shop and then headed straight for the fizzy drinks cooler. It didn’t take them long to find what they wanted and they paid and exited quickly.

  “At least they were fairly polite,” Anne said as she walked back out from behind the counter. “I’m often amazed at the manners of young people today.”

  “Yes, I know what you mean,” Bessie agreed. She grabbed a few publications from the magazine rack and added a bar of chocolate and a loaf of bread to her basket.

  “You know, Bessie, I’ve been thinking a lot about Miranda since we talked last,” Anne said as she rang up Bessie’s items. “I really do believe that she cared about Craig. There’s no way the body is his.”

  “Someone suggested that it might be Jackson Blakeslee,” Bessie told her.

  Anne stared at her for a moment, her mouth half open. “Jackson? But how, no, I mean, no…” she trailed off and then swallowed hard. “I’m sorry, but that’s a shocking idea. The only way it could be him is if Craig and Miranda killed him. There’s no way they would have done that.”

  “It didn’t have to have been murder. Maybe he and Craig had a fight and Jackson died accidently. Or maybe he tripped over something and bashed his head on a table. Maybe Miranda and Craig were afraid to ring the police, so they simply got rid of the body.”

  “Or maybe one of Jackson’s associates followed him here and killed him,” Anne said darkly. “Miranda was terrified that someone was going to come after him and end up hurting the children.”

  “Really? Surely, if that happened, Miranda would have rung the police.”

  “Miranda didn’t trust the police. After everything that she’d been through, I can understand why, even though I didn’t agree with her. If something happened to either Craig or Jackson, it wouldn’t surprise me to learn that she got rid of the body somehow.”

  “Why wouldn’t she identify it once it washed ashore?”

  “Maybe she was already gone by that time? I don’t remember exactly when she left. Or maybe she was ready to go and didn’t want to get held up here dealing with it all. Remember, she didn’t like the police. I can’t see why she’d have bother
ed to identify the body, especially if it was Jackson. She’d have just been happy that he was out of her life.”

  “I hope Hugh can find Craig and Miranda and Jackson, and I hope they’re all living happily somewhere,” Bessie said. “Hugh is also looking for Anthony Kelly. Do you remember him?”

  “There’s someone I haven’t thought about in years,” Anne said. “But yes, I do remember him, not good memories, mind you, but I remember him.”

  “I don’t recall much about him, really. I just remember the name,” Bessie said. “He lived in Ramsey, didn’t he?”

  “Aye, but he liked to drink in Laxey. He was a regular at the pub with Jack, and a lot of nights Jack would bring him home with him when he stumbled home. Anthony didn’t like to drive back to Ramsey when he was too drunk, and he was nearly always too drunk, at least on weekends.”

  “My goodness, I’m sure you weren’t at all sorry when he moved across, then,” Bessie exclaimed.

  “No, not at all. Jack was sorry to see him go, but he soon found other drinking buddies, not that he cared overmuch about whether he was drinking with friends or drinking alone.”

  “Hugh talked to someone who suggested that Anthony came back to the island around the same time as the body was found. He suggested that Anthony came back and was murdered.”

  Anne shrugged. “I don’t remember him coming back, but Jack might not have mentioned it to me if he did. Jack and I only spoke to one another when absolutely necessary, actually. I wasn’t the least bit interested in his friends and what they were doing.”

  “The same source suggested that Anthony was working for Grant Robertson.”

  “I can believe that. Grant used to have Jack do odd jobs for him once in a while. I never really thought about it, but once the truth came out about Grant, I realised that a lot of the things he used to have Jack do were probably illegal or close to it.”

  “What sort of things?” Bessie asked.

  “He used to send Jack across with packages. Jack would go as a foot passenger and get met at the ferry terminal in Liverpool by one of Grant’s associates. Jack would give him the package and the associate would give Jack a bunch of money. Grant always told Jack that the packages were full of legal paperwork that needed to be hand-delivered and that it was easier to send Jack than to send a proper courier. Jack never questioned it because all he had to do was sit on the ferry for a few hours each way and Grant always gave him spending money for the bar on the boat.”

  Bessie sighed. “I wonder what he was really taking across,” she said.

  “Yeah, I do, too, now.”

  “Do you think Anthony was working for Grant as well, then?”

  “Probably on an informal basis, like Jack was. Anthony was pretty smart, actually, when he wasn’t drinking. If Grant got him away from the booze for a while, he might have used him for somewhat more complicated jobs, but I don’t know for sure.”

  “And you don’t know if he ever came back to the island?”

  “I’ve no idea. I know I didn’t see him again after he left in the mid-eighties, but he could have come and gone a dozen times without me knowing. I was mostly concerned with my job and my son through those years.”

  Bessie nodded. “Well, Hugh is looking for him, so if you happen to hear anything about him, let me know.”

  “Oh, I will. I hear a surprising number of things working here, actually. People seem to forget I’m here while they’re shopping, for a start, and then there are quite a few little old dears who come in and talk to me for hours during the week. I suspect they’re lonely at home and I’m always happy to chat. It helps make the day go faster.”

  Bessie wondered if Anne classified her in that category, but decided that she couldn’t possibly consider Bessie as “old.” “I’d better get home and get some lunch,” she told Anne. “The day is rushing away and I’ve not done anything much with it yet.”

  The walk down the hill didn’t take Bessie long. Back at Treoghe Bwaane she put away her shopping, frowning at the chocolate bar that she’d bought.

  “It will be good for weeks,” she said. “You won’t have fairy cakes forever.”

  A sandwich and an apple were her lunch, and they were light enough to leave room for yet another cake when she’d finished them. An hour with a book left her feeling restless again.

  “I’m sure you’re eating too much sugar,” she told her reflection as she combed her hair. “But at least you’re getting lots of exercise.”

  While the beach was crowded, Bessie was determined to keep moving. She worked her way around toddlers and small children who seemed to be everywhere, nearly tripping over a large sandcastle that seemed to be a huge group project by all of the older children.

  “Do you like it?” a little girl of about seven asked, smiling shyly at Bessie.

  “It’s very nice,” Bessie replied. “It looks the perfect home for a princess or two.”

  “There are three princesses who live there,” another girl, maybe nine or ten, told her. “Flossy, Mossy, and Bossy. They don’t like one another very much, and no one likes Bossy at all. That’s why we had to build three separate towers.”

  “I see,” Bessie replied.

  “And then there are the dragons,” a small boy, probably the youngest of the trio, added.

  “There are no dragons,” the older girl said sharply.

  The little boy nodded and the looked at Bessie. “But there are,” he whispered to her.

  “There aren’t, and even if there were, Bossy would just send them all away,” the older girl said firmly.

  “Dragons incoming,” a large boy shouted from some distance away. The two girls shrieked as the boy ran straight into their castle, causing the towers to crash down into one large sandy lump.

  The smallest girl began to cry while the older girl turned to the new arrival and began to shout at him. Bessie decided that this was the perfect time to continue her walk. She’d only gone a few steps when the little boy touched her arm.

  When she turned to look at him he gave her a naughty grin. “I told you there were dragons,” he said before he dashed away, giggling.

  Shaking her head, Bessie continued on her way. She walked past Thie yn Traie and, as the beach was now empty, kept walking. It didn’t seem to take long to reach the new houses. As far as Bessie could tell, the crowds who had gathered to see the spot where the body had washed ashore had gone now. There was no sign of any uniformed police behind the houses. Instead, a number of small children were building sandcastles and throwing a ball around. There were far fewer people here than there had been behind the holiday cottages, but there were enough to convince Bessie to stop. She’d walked far enough anyway, she decided. Probably far enough to have earned herself a fairy cake after dinner.

  She’d just turned towards home when she heard someone calling her name. Turning around, she smiled as she recognised Hugh walking along the sand behind the houses. Maybe there was still a police presence on the beach.

  “Hugh, what a lovely surprise,” she greeted him with a hug. “The police aren’t still having to chase away people who want to see where the body was found, are they?”

  “Not that I know of,” the man replied. “I’m meeting Grace down here to look at that house.”

  Bessie looked up the beach. She knew which house Hugh meant. The only home on the beach that Hugh and Grace might possibly be able to afford was the one where the murder had taken place.

  “It’s a lovely house, really,” Bessie said.

  “I went around it last week and I thought so, too,” Hugh told her. “They had a professional cleaning crew come in from across, and they did a great job. You’d never know what happened there if you just walked around the place.”

  “But of course you do know, and so does Grace. How does she feel about the whole thing?”

  “She’s reluctant to buy a house where a murder happened, but she knows it’s a much nicer house than we’d ever be able to afford otherwise. Even with the hou
se’s history, we’ll really be stretching out budget if we decide we want to buy it. But it has four bedrooms and a small office where Grace could mark papers, and it has two bathrooms and a cloakroom and a wonderful modern kitchen.”

  “It sounds as if it’s exactly what you need.”

  “Yeah,” Hugh sighed. “And we might never be able to afford it under any other circumstances. Here’s hoping I can talk Grace into it.”

  “There she is,” Bessie said, looking behind the man.

  Hugh spun around and took off back up the beach towards his pretty blonde wife. Bessie followed at a more leisurely pace.

  “How are you?” she asked Grace when she reached the pair.

  “Oh, Aunt Bessie, hello,” Grace said, flushing. “I’m, that is, I’m fine. Thank you for asking.”

  “I was just out for a walk,” Bessie told her. “Hugh said that you’re going to be looking at a house here.”

  “Oh, yes, the, um, well, the house where that horrible incident happened last month,” Grace said. “The developer is offering a huge discount to potential buyers, but I’m still not sure about it.”

  “It’s worth taking a look,” Bessie said.

  “Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Watterson, there you are,” a jovial voice said loudly. “Ready to have a look at your new home?”

  “I’m not sure about that,” Grace told him.

  “It’s perfect for you,” the man assured her. “Hello,” he said to Bessie. “I’m Greg Gibson.”

  “Our estate agent,” Hugh said quietly.

  “I’m Elizabeth Cubbon. I was just out for a walk and bumped into Hugh and Grace. I’ll head for home so that you can show them the house.”

  “Oh, Bessie, come around with us, please,” Grace said. “I’d really love your opinion.”

  “Are you sure?” Bessie asked.

  “Quite sure,” Grace told her.

  Greg led them all back around to the front of the property and unlocked the door. “I’m going to wait out here,” he told them. “I don’t want to flood you with my sales pitch. You go around and see what you think and then we can talk when you’re finished.”