Peter didn’t argue any further. They walked back to their building and rode the elevator in companionable silence. At her door Peter stopped.
“Thank you for a lovely evening,” he said.
“Thank you,” Fenella replied. She held her breath as she waited to see if he was going to kiss her or not. After a moment, she decided she was too old to still be letting the men in her life make all of the decisions. She leaned forward and gave him a very gentle kiss on the lips. Before he could do or say anything, she let herself into her apartment and shut the door. Leaning against it, she heard Peter say “good night” before she heard his footsteps as he walked away.
After washing what seemed like half a pound of sand off her feet, Fenella crawled into bed. She’d had a very odd day, with a murder, a ghost and a first date, and she was afraid she might struggle to shut her mind down and sleep. As it happened, she was asleep the second her head hit the pillow.
Chapter Four
Something was banging somewhere and it was very annoying, Fenella thought. She should make Jack go and sort it out. Unless it was Jack. That would be typical. She reached over to the opposite side of the bed, feeling for Jack. He wasn’t there. She opened one eye and then sat up, suddenly aware that she was not in the king-sized bed in her US home. This was the Isle of Man and there was someone at her door.
Throwing on her bathrobe and sliding her feet into her favorite slippers, she headed for the apartment door. Even with her glasses on, she couldn’t see anything through the peephole. She pulled the door open.
Inspector Robinson’s smile faltered as he looked at her. “We did say nine, didn’t we?” he said after an embarrassing pause.
Fenella winced. “I forgot to set an alarm,” she explained. “I guess I was more tired than I realized.”
The man nodded. Fenella knew it was her turn to say something, but her brain simply wouldn’t cooperate. After what felt like several minutes, a thought popped into her head.
“I haven’t had any coffee yet,” she explained to the man. “I’m sure I’ll be able to think once I’ve done that.”
“Perhaps I should let you go and get some coffee made, then,” the inspector replied. “Why don’t I come back later, maybe after work tonight? Say six o’clock?”
Fenella nodded. “I promise to be more awake,” she told him, hoping she wasn’t going to regret her words.
“I’ll bring a pizza,” he suggested.
“That sounds wonderful,” Fenella replied. “I can manage drinks. Do you want wine or beer or just soft drinks?”
“I don’t really drink much alcohol,” the man replied. “Especially when I’m in the middle of an investigation.”
“Soft drinks it is,” Fenella said, feeling relieved. She’d had quite enough wine last night to keep her going for some considerable time, she thought.
“I’ll see you at six, then,” the man said. He turned and walked down the corridor, leaving Fenella to shut the door behind him. She leaned against it once it was closed and shut her eyes. When she opened them again, Mona was standing in front of her looking disappointed.
“What?” Fenella demanded.
“Go look in the mirror,” Mona suggested.
Fenella frowned and walked into the bedroom. “Eeek!” she shouted when she saw her reflection. Her hair was a tangled mess and she obviously hadn’t done a very good job of washing her face the night before. There were smudges of eye makeup under both eyes. Her glasses weren’t at all flattering. She hadn’t bought a new pair in a great many years, as she always wore contact lenses whenever she went out. Now she stared at the huge black frames and sighed deeply. If the gorgeous inspector had been thinking he might ask her out, no doubt she’d just taken that idea right out of his head.
But he is coming back later with pizza, she thought. What is that about?
“What is that about?” she asked Mona, who was sitting on her bed.
“Pardon?” Mona replied.
“Why is he coming back later with pizza?” Fenella demanded. “And why did he want to see me anyway?”
Mona shrugged. “You’ll just have to wait until tonight to find out, won’t you? Now tell me about dinner with Peter. Did you have a nice time?”
“It was lovely,” Fenella replied. “But why didn’t you wake me? You knew I had an appointment with the inspector at nine.”
“I simply assumed that, by your age, you’d managed to learn how to set an alarm clock,” Mona told her. “Next time I’ll know better.”
“I forgot,” Fenella said, blushing. “But now that I’m up, I suppose I should grab a shower and get my day started.”
Mona shrugged and then got up and left the room. Fenella got ready as quickly as she could, feeling as if she needed to hurry for absolutely no reason at all. Mona was sitting on the couch, watching the sea, when Fenella joined her.
“Good morning,” she told her aunt. “I suppose, now it’s morning and I’m pretty sure I’m wide-awake, I can’t keep telling myself that you’re simply a dream.”
“You can tell yourself whatever you like,” Mona said. “But whatever you tell yourself won’t change the truth.”
Fenella went into the kitchen and plugged in the toaster. She slid a crumpet into it and then got the butter and orange juice out of the refrigerator. As she bustled around making herself breakfast, Mona watched wordlessly.
“Are you going to hang around here all the time?” Fenella demanded after several minutes. “Because you’re making me sort of nervous.”
“I’m sorry,” Mona said, not sounding at all like she meant it. “I could leave, but now I’m quite worried about you, really.”
“Worried about me? Why?”
“Have you forgotten that there’s a murderer lurking around the place somewhere?” Mona asked.
“I can’t see why that would make you worry about me,” Fenella replied. “It isn’t like anyone has any motive for murdering me. I just got here.”
“I was thinking about that,” Mona told her. “You found the body. What if you got there just as the murderer was leaving and he or she is worried that you saw something you shouldn’t have?”
Fenella stared at the woman for a moment and then shook her head. “Thanks, Aunty Mona,” she said sarcastically. “Now I won’t sleep until the murderer is behind bars.”
“It is worrying, but I think I have the perfect solution,” Mona told her. “We can find the murderer ourselves. Then you can relax.”
“I’m not hunting down a murderer,” Fenella said firmly.
“We can at least talk about the suspects,” Mona replied. “I’m hoping Inspector Robinson will tell you who they all are.”
“I suppose Peter is one of them,” Fenella said.
“Peter Cannell? Why would he be a suspect?” Mona asked.
“He said last night that he didn’t like the man,” Fenella told her. “They’d had some business dealings that didn’t go well, and his second ex-wife dated Alan Collins for a while, as well.”
Mona shook her head. “That Shannon Kneale was nothing but trouble from the time Peter laid eyes on her. Anyway, Peter wouldn’t harm a fly. He’s a lovely man. Business deals go wrong all the time. Half the population of the island would be dead tomorrow if people started killing one another over failed business deals.”
“So who did have a motive for killing the man?” Fenella asked.
Mona shrugged. “You didn’t want to talk about it, remember?” she said.
“I never said that,” Fenella snapped. “I just said I wasn’t going to investigate. Feel free to talk all you like.”
“Suzy,” Mona replied.
“The woman who works in the office here? Why would she kill Alan Collins?”
“They probably had a falling out. The man went through women like you wouldn’t believe,” Mona told her. “Peter used to take me to social events when he was, well, between women, and every time I saw him, Alan Collins had a different woman on his arm. I can’t imagine what a
ny of them saw in him, but he never seemed to lack female company.”
“This is crazy,” Fenella said. “Let’s leave the job to the experts. I’m going to go and get some fresh air and some exercise.”
“Have fun,” Mona said. “I think I’ll go and have a chat with Gandhi. He’s having a picnic at his cloud this afternoon.”
“He is? Gandhi?” Fenella gasped.
Mona laughed. “No, of course not,” she said. “You’re awfully gullible for a woman your age.”
“Sorry,” Fenella said tightly. “Only you’re the first ghost I’ve ever met, you see, so I’m not quite sure what to believe.”
“Go get your fresh air,” Mona told her. “I think I’ll go and make myself a little bit older. Being nineteen again is exhausting.”
This time Fenella didn’t question the woman; she just nodded and then watched as Mona faded away. After checking the weather on her phone, Fenella grabbed a light jacket and headed for the elevators. A brisk walk along the promenade was exactly what she needed, and it was going to rain later.
One of the elevators popped open and a woman of about sixty stepped out. “Oh,” she exclaimed. “But you must be Mona’s little niece from America. She used to talk about you all the time.”
“I am Mona’s niece,” Fenella confirmed, ignoring the word little that didn’t seem to apply in any sense.
“I’m Michelle Quirk,” the woman said. “Everyone calls me Shelly, though. I live right next door to you. I thought I heard someone moving around in your flat yesterday, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t want to start knocking and disturbing you, anyway. I knew it wouldn’t be long before we bumped into one another.”
“And here we are,” Fenella said, trying not to stare at other woman’s rather garish outfit. Shelly’s trousers were bright red and she’d paired them with a red and white striped sweater. Like Fenella, Shelly was carrying a few extra pounds, and the tight-fitting sweater and skin-tight trousers only accentuated that fact.
Shelly’s bright red hair was a clearly artificial shade that clashed loudly with her sweater. She was wearing a pair of oversized glasses with bright red frames that matched her sweater, but not her hair.
“So where are you off to this morning?” Shelly asked.
“I was just going for a walk,” Fenella told her. “I thought I would walk up and down the promenade for some exercise.”
“What a lovely idea,” Shelly said. “I’ll join you, if you don’t mind.”
“No, of course not,” Fenella lied bravely.
The pair walked into the elevator that Shelly had just exited and made their way down to the ground floor. As they crossed through the building’s lobby, Shelly waved and shouted greetings to everyone she saw.
“I think you must know everyone in Douglas,” Fenella said when they finally reached the outside of the building.
“Just everyone in our building,” Shelly told her. “I’m a people person. I love getting to know people.”
“How lovely,” Fenella said faintly.
“So tell me all about you,” Shelly suggested after they’d crossed the road and begun their walk.
“Oh, I’m not very interesting,” Fenella demurred, feeling as if she’d already told too many people her life story in the past twenty-four hours.
“Oh, I’m sure that isn’t true,” Shelly said with a laugh. “But I’ll tell you my life story, if you’d rather.”
“Oh, yes, please do,” Fenella replied.
Shelly nodded. “It’s actually terribly dull,” she said. “I was born in Port Erin, in the south of the island. I lived there until I was eighteen and then I moved to Douglas for all of the excitement of life in a big city.” She looked at Fenella and laughed again. “I know,” she said. “Douglas is only a big city if you grew up in Port Erin, but it seemed terribly exciting to me at the time.”
“I’m sure it must have,” Fenella replied.
“Yes, well, I met my future husband when I was nineteen and we got married a year later. We were never blessed with children, but we bumbled along happily enough until about six months ago when he suddenly dropped dead of a heart attack.”
“My goodness,” Fenella gasped. “I am sorry.”
Shelly shrugged. “I was devastated, of course, but life must go on as well. I couldn’t bear to stay in the house that had been ours for so many years, so I sold that and bought my little flat instead. Your aunt was kind enough to befriend me and help me through the worst of my mourning, and I feel better every day.”
“I’m glad to hear that. And I’m glad Mona was such a help to you.”
“Mona saved my life,” the woman replied. “She told me that I was lucky that I was still alive and that I should celebrate that every day.” Shelly glanced down at herself. “She even persuaded me to buy a bunch of new clothes in bright colors. They make me feel happy, just wearing them.”
“Good for you,” Fenella said.
They’d reached the far end of the promenade, so now they turned around and headed back toward central Douglas.
“Go on, then, tell me a little bit about yourself,” Shelly suggested.
“I grew up in Pennsylvania and went to college in New York state,” Fenella told her. “Once I started college, I never really left. I earned a BA, an MA and a PhD, all from the same school, and then when I’d finished, I started teaching there.”
“All those degrees,” Shelly sounded impressed. “In what subject?”
“Oh, history. Primarily European history, with an emphasis on British history.”
“I always wanted to go to college, but women didn’t really do that in my day, at least not women on the island. But have you been teaching history ever since?”
“I was, up until last week,” Fenella replied. “When I found out that I’d inherited my aunt’s estate, I quit my job, sold my house and all of its furnishings and moved to the Isle of Man.”
Shelly stopped and stared at her for a moment. “What an incredibly brave thing to do,” she said.
Fenella shrugged. “I was ready for a change,” she said.
“That suggests a man,” Shelly grinned.
Fenella laughed. “There was a man, yes,” she admitted. “We’d been together for many years and it was time to end it.”
“How many years?” Shelly asked.
“Ten.”
“But you never married?”
Fenella shook her head. “I was already getting close to forty when we met,” she tried to explain. “I wasn’t a young girl with romantic visions of white weddings and happy families.”
“So you never wanted to marry him?”
“There was a time,” Fenella said, thinking about her past. “It’s all water under the bridge now, of course, but when we first got together I did think we’d marry one day. I’d been in a disastrous relationship before I met Jack, so for the first year or so I was just happy to be with a man who treated me decently. Then for a year or two I thought I might like to marry him. After a while, though, I gave up on the idea, and eventually, I also gave up on the relationship.”
“Someday you shall have to tell me about the man before Jack,” Shelly said. “But for now, tell me about yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” Fenella blinked at the sudden change in subject.
“You found that poor man’s body, didn’t you? That’s what I heard, anyway, and my sources are usually very good.”
“Well, your sources are certainly right this time,” Fenella admitted. “I did find a man’s body.”
“And not just any man,” Shelly said. “You found Alan Collins’s body. That must have brightened many people’s day.”
Fenella gave her a shocked look, but Shelly just laughed again.
“I don’t think it’s a secret that the man wasn’t well-liked,” she told Fenella. “His business partner hated him, most of his business deals went sour and he went though women like they were going out of style. Oh, he had a certain charm, when he wanted to use it, but once you w
ere no longer useful to him, he turned it off quickly enough.”
“This is all news to me,” Fenella told her. “I only met the man once, very briefly.”
“When did you meet him?”
“He stopped by my apartment yesterday morning,” Fenella explained. “He was hoping I was interested in selling it.”
Shelly nodded. “He was always trying to get people who didn’t know him to use his services,” she said. “Those of us who’d had dealings with him in the past knew better, of course.”
“Why? What happened?” Fenella couldn’t stop herself from asking.
“I bought the flat in our building through him,” Shelly explained. “And sold my house. He made a mess of the paperwork on both deals and it took my advocate many hours, many billable hours I should say, to straighten it all out.”
“Surely Mr. Collins should have had to pay for his mistakes,” Fenella said.
“If I could have proved they were his mistakes, he might have,” Shelly replied. “And now he’s dead. I won’t sue his estate over it. It probably wouldn’t be worth the time and effort and it definitely wouldn’t be worth the emotional upheaval.”
“What a shame. Anyway, it sounds as if the police won’t have any shortage of suspects.”
“I should think not,” Shelly agreed. “They can start with his business partner and work their way through all of the women he’d dated in the last year. That should keep them busy for a long while.”
“He didn’t seem like the type to attract women,” Fenella said frankly.
Shelly laughed. “I know what you mean,” she said. “But for some reason, and I don’t know what it was either, he seemed to have no trouble getting women to go out with him. None of them stuck around for long, though.”
The pair had reached the Sea Terminal, so now they turned again and headed back down the promenade.
“I’m a little curious about the murder,” Fenella said hesitantly. “Being that I found the body and all. If you don’t mind, I’d like to hear about Mr. Collins’s business partner.”
“His name is Mark Potter. He’s forty-something and he always looks as if he’s just stolen candy from a baby.” Shelly shook her head. “I’m probably not being fair, as I don’t like the man. He’s more attractive than Alan Collins was, anyway, but that isn’t saying much.”
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