“I always thought she was too mean to die,” one friend said.
“Maybe Christopher will come home for the funeral. I want to be there to see him and Adam come to blows,” another told Bessie.
After lunch, Bessie walked up to the corner shop to get the local paper. The woman behind the counter was a stranger to Bessie.
“Good afternoon,” she said politely as she handed the woman the correct change.
“Too wet,” the woman replied.
Bessie put her paper into a carrier bag to keep it dry and then headed back down the hill. It was very wet, Bessie had to agree with the woman about that, but with her Wellington boots and waterproofs, Bessie didn’t really mind. She did feel sorry for the guests in the holiday cottages as she noticed the empty beach behind them. Still, the forecast suggested improving weather for the rest of the week.
The follow-up article about Hugh’s unidentified man was on the second page of the paper. Along with a tremendous amount of speculation, the paper had also printed an updated version of the twenty-year-old sketch of the dead man. Bessie stared at the man’s face, trying to work out if she knew him. Based solely on the drawing, though, it could have been any of the men who were under consideration. Bessie read the rest of the paper with a fairy cake and then decided she needed another walk. Maybe it was Agatha’s death that had her feeling so restless, she thought as she headed out into the rain again.
Her answering machine light was blinking when she got home. Bessie pushed play.
“It’s Hugh. Can you please ring me back at the station?”
Bessie knew the number well.
“Laxey neighbourhood policing, this is Doona. How may I help you?”
“It’s Bessie. Hugh asked me to ring him.”
“Oh, Bessie, how are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Oh, I suppose I’ve had better days, but I really can’t complain.”
“Is there something wrong?” Bessie asked, hearing something in her friend’s tone that worried her.
“Not really. I’ve just heard from my solicitor across, that’s all. The case against Charles’s former business partner is taking longer to get through the courts than he’d expected. He’d more or less promised that I’d have some sort of settlement by now, but now he’s suggesting it could take another year.”
“Oh, dear, I am sorry,” Bessie exclaimed. Doona had been named as the sole heir to her second husband’s fortune, something that had come as a surprise to Doona as she was in the process of divorcing the man. Unfortunately, the man’s former business partner had been arrested a short time after Charles’s death, which had complicated things for Doona.
“I shouldn’t care, really, as long as the estate pays out enough to pay for the solicitor,” Doona replied. “I’ve already inherited a lot more than I ever expected, that’s for sure. Still, it would be nice to have it all done and dusted. I’m tired of talking to my solicitors every few days.”
“The man’s been wrong about just about everything,” Bessie pointed out. “Maybe he’ll be wrong about this as well.”
“You could be right,” Doona laughed. “At least I can hope you’re right. Let me get Hugh for you.”
Bessie was switched to hold and spent a minute trying to work out exactly what song she was hearing in an odd instrumental version. Hugh answered before she’d managed to decide.
“Bessie, I just wanted to let you know that I’ve found Jackson Blakeslee,” he said.
“You have? Where?”
“In prison, which is hardly surprisingly, I suppose,” Hugh told her. “He’s in America, though, which is why it took a bit of time to track him down.”
“America? Where?”
“Somewhere in New York. I’m not really clear on where, but the man I spoke to was with the New York State Police.”
“I see. So there’s no chance the body is his.”
“None at all. He’s alive and well, if you consider being in prison being well.”
“I suppose it’s better than being dead.”
“Yes, that’s probably true.”
“But what is he doing in America?”
“Apparently, he moved to Canada not long after he left the island. From what the New York trooper was able to work out, he holds a Canadian passport through his parents. I gather he was in and out of trouble in Canada for years. Eventually, he expanded his operations across the border. He got caught breaking and entering in New York and is now serving six to ten years in prison there.”
“And what about Miranda?”
“The man I spoke with is going to ask Jackson about Miranda and ring me back,” Hugh told her. “I’ll ring you as soon as I hear anything.”
Bessie found herself pacing around her cottage as she waited for Hugh to ring her back. While logically she knew it could be many hours or even days before the American police officer followed up, Bessie couldn’t seem to settle into anything. She was just thinking about ringing Marjorie to see if the woman had any ideas for a new research project for Bessie when someone knocked on her door.
“Hugh, I thought you were going to ring,” Bessie exclaimed as she let the man into the cottage.
“I was, but my shift was over and I wanted to get out of the office,” Hugh explained. “Anyway, I’m meeting Grace at the house down the beach in an hour. It didn’t seem worth it to drive all the way home, so I thought I would come and visit you for a few minutes.”
“You know you’re always welcome. Let me put the kettle on.” Bessie did just that and then piled biscuits onto a plate. Hugh sat down at the kitchen table and watched silently.
“What’s wrong?” Bessie asked as she put the plate of biscuits on the table in front of him.
“Nothing. I’m just tired today,” Hugh told her. “We were up late last night talking about that house.”
“And Grace doesn’t want to buy it,” Bessie guessed.
“Grace doesn’t know what she wants. She wants the house desperately, but she’s, well, she’s uncomfortable with it. It’s perfect for us, a lot more house than we could afford in any other way, but a few of her friends have already said that they don’t want to visit us at home if we buy it.”
“They’ll get over it,” Bessie said. “Once you’ve moved in and redecorated, it will become your home and you can start making new, good memories there.”
“Yeah, if I can just persuade Grace of that.”
“What do her parents think?”
“Her father is all for it. He works in banking and he knows a good deal when he sees one. Her mother, on the other hand, well, she’s hinted that she might not feel comfortable in the house no matter what we do to it.”
Bessie sighed. “I’m sorry. This isn’t going to be easy, is it?”
“Grace and I are having another look around,” Hugh told her. “I’m hoping that seeing it again and again will take away Grace’s worries. She’s already in love with the kitchen and the en suite off the master bedroom. Maybe it doesn’t matter if she doesn’t like the sitting room.”
“I hope you can work it out. I think it would be a great house for you, but only if Grace is going to be happy there.”
The kettle boiled and Bessie made the tea. Hugh ate a biscuit, but Bessie could tell that he wasn’t paying much attention to it. It was always worrying when Hugh was off his food.
“”But I came to tell you about Jackson Blakeslee,” he said when Bessie had rejoined him, bringing cups of tea with her.
“Oh, have you heard back from the man in New York?”
“I have. I think he’s as interested in the story as I am now. I told him everything that I knew about Jackson and Miranda when we spoke the first time. He must have gone straight to the prison after we talked to interrogate Jackson.”
“And?” Bessie asked as Hugh stopped for a sip of tea.
“And, according to Jackson, Miranda left him right after they got back to the UK.”
“She did? But where did
she go? And what about the children?”
Hugh grinned. “Let me tell you the story that Jackson told the man in New York,” he said. “He claims that after Craig left, he and Miranda were fighting all the time. Apparently she wanted to stay on the island and he wanted to go back across. Eventually, he persuaded her to sell everything here and move back to the UK.”
“Eventually? I’m sure they weren’t here for more than a month or two after Craig left.”
“Yeah, well, apparently that was a month or two longer than Jackson wanted to be here,” Hugh told her. “Anyway, as he tells it, they’d only just returned to the UK when Miranda told him she was leaving him. He claims he didn’t want her to go, but didn’t try to stop her. He told the officer in New York that she moved to Dover a week or two later and he never heard from her again.”
“But the children were his, weren’t they?”
“They were, but according to Jackson, she promised she would never ask for a penny for support for them if he left them alone. For whatever reason, Jackson apparently agreed.”
“What about Miranda’s mother and sister? I thought they liked Jackson?”
“Yeah, so much so that they stayed behind with him and eventually moved to Canada with him,” Hugh replied.
“They cut their ties with Miranda to be with Jackson?” Bessie asked incredulously.
“Not only that, but once the divorce went through, the sister, her name is Abigail by the way, she married Jackson,” Hugh replied.
Bessie sat back in her chair and shook her head. “I don’t understand people,” she said after a moment.
“Yeah, me, either. Anyway, the sister is still in Canada. Apparently the US authorities won’t let her across the border to visit her husband, so she spends most of her time writing angry letters to both governments demanding that they either let her visit or send him to a prison in Canada.”
“What about her mother?”
“She passed away a few years ago,” Hugh told her.
“And I don’t suppose anyone has an address for Miranda,” Bessie sighed.
“Actually, Jackson told the trooper that he thinks his wife might have Miranda’s address. The trooper is going to arrange for Jackson to ring her and ask for it. Jackson doesn’t think Abigail will share it with the police if they contact her directly.”
“I wonder if she’ll give it to Jackson, considering how unhappy she is with everything.”
“The man I spoke with seemed to think that while Abigail is unhappy with the current situation, Jackson isn’t. He said Jackson made some comment about how having an international border between him and his wife was just about as good as it could get. Anyway, Jackson seemed to think that he could talk his wife into providing the address.”
“I really hope he can get it for you.”
“Me, too. I’ve already spoken to a few people in Dover. If Jackson is telling the truth about where Miranda went, we should be able to find her.”
“Of course there’s no guarantee that finding Miranda will help with finding Craig,” Bessie said.
“No, but Jackson insisted that Craig was absolutely fine when he left the island. He told the state trooper that he really wanted to beat him up since he’d been sleeping with his wife, but Miranda talked him out of it.”
“Gee, that was good of her,” Bessie said sarcastically.
“Yeah, he also said that once Miranda left him he was sorry he hadn’t beaten Craig up when he’d had the chance,” Hugh said, shaking his head.
“Have you learned anything more about Anthony Kelly?” Bessie asked.
“Not yet. I’m not even sure where to start with him, really. He’d been gone for five years before the body was found and I’ve not located anyone who knows where he went when he left.”
“And now Agatha Marsh is gone. That’s going to make it harder to find Christopher, isn’t it?”
“I don’t know. She was adamant that she wasn’t going to share his address with the police. She said she didn’t want the poor man being harassed by the police simply because he left the island just before someone else ended up dead. Maybe Christopher’s siblings will be less hostile to the request than she was. I was actually hoping he might come for the memorial service, but as that’s happening tomorrow, I don’t suppose he’ll be there.”
“Tomorrow?” Bessie echoed. “That’s very quick, isn’t it?”
“Apparently the family had been expecting her to go for quite some time. They made all of the arrangements months ago with Agatha’s own input. When Pete spoke to Adam, he simply said that they didn’t see any reason to wait.”
“It does sound as if they aren’t expecting Christopher to come home, then. I mean, he could get here if he’s across, I suppose, but it’s awfully short notice, and Adam suggested that he was further away than the UK, as well.”
“Pete will be going, just in case,” Hugh told her.
“Where is it, and when?” Bessie asked.
Hugh named the largest church in Douglas. “Tomorrow at one o’clock. A memorial service followed by a small gathering in the church hall.”
“I’ll be there,” Bessie said. “I wonder if Doona will be free to come with me.”
“I’m sure John can arrange for her to be available. Now that Anna is gone, he’s back to being in charge of scheduling.”
“I don’t want to ask the man for favours, though,” Bessie sighed.
“But he’ll want Doona with you if you’re going,” Hugh pointed out.
“I suppose so.”
“The phones at the station have been ringing off the hook all day. I’m sure Doona will welcome a chance to get away, as well.”
“What’s going on at the station?”
“The picture in the paper today has everyone talking,” Hugh explained.
“The artist’s sketch from twenty years ago?”
“The updated sketch. From what I’ve been told, a lot of people seem to think that it’s very different from the old sketch for some reason. Anyway, it was so busy at the station that John had to call in someone to help Doona deal with the calls.”
“I didn’t think the sketch was that different, but I’m happy to hear that people are ringing in. Any interesting new leads?”
“When I left there were two constables going through the messages. They’re going to make a list of all of the names mentioned for me to look at tomorrow. I had a quick glance through one pile of messages, and the vast majority of them seemed to be suggesting that it was Craig Fox, surprise, surprise.”
Bessie sighed. “Everyone seems to want it to be Craig for some reason. I really hope it isn’t.”
“Yeah, me too. After everything I’ve heard about the man, I hope he’s having a wonderful life somewhere sunny and warm.”
“I don’t think he’d mind rainy or cold, actually,” Bessie said. “I just hope he’s happy.”
“I hope we find Christopher Marsh, as well,” Hugh said. “I haven’t learned nearly as much about him, though.”
“People don’t talk about him the way they talk about Craig,” Bessie agreed. “But I agree. I hope you find him alive and well.”
“Of course, if I do find them both, we’re no closer to working out who the unidentified man is,” Hugh pointed out. “And I’d really like to do that.”
“Maybe it is Anthony Kelly,” Bessie suggested.
“That doesn’t seem likely, somehow, but it could be. I think I’ll spend the rest of tonight hoping that the answer is in the pile of messages at the station. We’ll have to investigate every name that’s mentioned, of course.”
“That could be a huge job. I thought you weren’t meant to be spending much time on the case.”
“John’s being flexible about it. The chief constable doesn’t keep track of specific assignments. Anyway, it’s hardly my fault that Dan Ross decided to run that picture today. I thought he was going to run it with the original article.”
Before Bessie could reply, Hugh’s phone began to rin
g.
“Okay, darling, I’ll see you there in a few minutes,” was all that he said after hello. He dropped the phone back into his pocket and stood up.
“Grace is at the house with the estate agent. Apparently he’s reluctant to go inside again and she doesn’t want to go in alone. I’d better get over there.”
“Good luck,” Bessie said, giving the man a hug.
“Thanks,” he replied. Bessie followed him to the door and then locked up behind him. He’d given her a lot to think about, but mostly she wanted to know whether Jackson’s wife had an address for Miranda or not. If Hugh could track down Miranda, maybe he could find out what had happened to Craig. Bessie started to make dinner. While she wanted Hugh’s case to be solved, she really hoped the body wasn’t Craig’s.
After some chicken with rice and vegetables and yet another fairy cake, Bessie decided to take another walk. She felt as if she’d done nothing but walk on the beach for the last few days, but her mind didn’t seem to want to settle to anything else. After a short stroll that she cut short because the rain had stopped and the beach was crowded, Bessie headed for home. There was a large rock on the sand behind her cottage. She settled onto it and watched the waves as they splashed in and out. The tide was coming in, but Bessie didn’t mind getting her feet wet. The sun was setting when she heard her name being called.
“Bessie? There you are,” Doona said. “I rang your cottage a dozen times, but you never answered.”
“I’m sorry. I’ve been out here for hours,” Bessie told her. “I’m too restless to read.”
“Restless? What’s bothering you?”
“I think I’m mostly worried about Craig Fox,” Bessie answered after a moment’s thought. “I never suspected that the body was his at the time it was found, but now I’m worried that it might be and that upsets me.”
“Why?”
“He was a good man, put in an impossible situation. I just want him to have had a happy ending after that,” Bessie sighed. “I know happy endings are for fairy tales, but, well, even if he can’t have a happy ending, I’d like to think that he’s still alive somewhere.”
Aunt Bessie Provides (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 16) Page 17
