Aunt Bessie Believes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery)

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Aunt Bessie Believes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery) Page 18

by Diana Xarissa


  “I have?” The boy’s eyes lit up.

  “Of course,” Bessie assured him with the same words she used for nearly every guest. “You’re smart and funny and kind and caring and I have high hopes for you. I always thought you’d finish school and go off and make your family, and me, very proud. Your parents are just trying to keep you safe, and I’m on their side. I would be devastated if anything happened to you.”

  The boy blushed under Bessie’s gaze. “Ah, thanks, I mean, well, ah,” he cleared his throat. “Maybe missing the concert isn’t the worst thing ever,” he said. “Can I stay here tonight anyway? I could use a break from my folks.”

  “Of course you can,” Bessie told him. “I’ll just call your mum and let her know.”

  Bessie had a hard and fast rule about overnight guests. She always called the relevant parents to let them know where their offspring were staying. And all the parents in Laxey were well aware of the rule. No child ever got away with telling their folks that they had stayed at Aunt Bessie’s when they were actually somewhere else.

  Jason’s mum was pleased to hear that her son was going to be staying in Bessie’s spare room. “See if you can talk some sense into him, will you?” she asked. “I don’t like him hanging around with that Robert Kneale and the kind of girls he attracts. My Jason has a nice girlfriend in that Jennifer he’s seeing, but his head might be turned by a really short skirt and you can bet that’s what they’ll be wearing at that concert tomorrow.”

  After the phone call she filled Jason in on her plans for the evening. “Inspector Rockwell from the Isle of Man Constabulary is coming over for dinner,” she told him. “You are welcome to join us for dinner, but then I expect you to head upstairs and entertain yourself for a short while so that the inspector and I can talk.”

  “You’re going to talk about Moirrey Teare’s death, aren’t you?” Jason asked.

  “Among other things,” Bessie told him.

  “It was really neat how you helped solve that murder last month,” he replied. “Are you going to help solve this one as well?”

  “All I’m trying to do is provide background information for the police,” Bessie told him. “I’m trying to find out all I can about Moirrey and her friends and things like that.”

  Jason opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. “Okay,” he said, without meeting Bessie’s eyes.

  She filed the reaction away to think about later and called Inspector Rockwell to ask him to add a few extra dishes to the dinner order. “We need to talk privately,” Rockwell had argued.

  “That won’t be a problem,” Bessie assured him. “After dinner he can go upstairs and sit in the office. He won’t be able to hear us from up there.”

  She knew that the inspector wasn’t happy with the arrangements, but she wasn’t about to tell Jason that he had to go home, especially now that she’d talked to his mother. Bessie was responsible for him for the evening and Inspector Rockwell was just going to have to live with that.

  She and Jason spent a quiet half hour reading. Bessie lent him a classic Agatha Christie novel. He’d started it reluctantly, but by the time the inspector knocked on the cottage door he appeared to be engrossed.

  “Should I get that?” he asked Bessie as he lifted his eyes from the page.

  “I’ve got it, thanks,” Bessie answered. “I need to pop the pudding in the oven anyway.”

  “I’ll just finish this chapter, if that’s okay?”

  “Of course it is,” Bessie grinned.

  “It looks like you brought enough to feed an army again,” Bessie remarked as she helped Inspector Rockwell carry the bags full of food into the kitchen.

  “You said you had a teenaged boy as a guest,” the inspector grinned. “We’ll be lucky if he leaves anything for us.”

  “Maybe we should grab our share now, before he gets in here,” Bessie laughed.

  Jason was wary of the inspector for a few minutes, but Rockwell had a son of his own and he soon put the boy at ease. The pair talked about football while they ate, leaving Bessie with nothing to do but listen. She didn’t mind; she quite enjoyed seeing a different side of the inspector who was usually all business with her. And she was happy watching Jason argue about which teams had the best chance of getting into some competition or other. Both men seemed to take it all very seriously.

  After an astonishing amount of food had been eaten, Bessie pulled the bread and butter pudding out of the oven. The top was golden brown and crunchy-looking under its generous sprinkling of sugar. Bessie received an enthusiastically affirmative answer from both of her guests when she offered the pudding, so she piled steaming hot squares onto plates and carried them to the table.

  The men waited with ill-concealed impatience as Bessie cut her own smaller piece and joined them. No one argued about sports while the pudding was being devoured.

  The inspector insisted that Bessie relax while he and Jason washed the dishes, and Bessie wasn’t about to complain. Once the kitchen was restored to order, the inspector smiled at Jason.

  “It’s been a pleasure meeting you,” he told the young man. “I hope you’ll excuse us now. I really need to talk to Bessie.”

  “Sure,” Jason grinned. “I’ll take my book upstairs and read in the office.”

  “Before you go, I just have one quick question,” Bessie smiled at him. “Do you know anything about Moirrey that might help us figure out who killed her?”

  Jason blushed and shook his head. “What could I know?” he muttered. “I didn’t even know the woman.”

  “And yet,” Bessie said, staring into his eyes, “there is something you’re not telling me.”

  Jason shook his head again and looked down at the ground. “It’s nothing,” he muttered.

  Inspector Rockwell cleared his throat. “Jason, if you have any information, even if it doesn’t seem all that important, I’d appreciate it if you’d share it. I’m not interested in how you got the information. If you were doing something you shouldn’t have been doing that doesn’t concern me. I’m CID, we deal with murder, and it’s important we find out who killed Moirrey.”

  “I really don’t know anything,” Jason insisted. “It was just something kind of strange, that’s all.”

  “What was?” Rockwell asked.

  “Some of us like to hang out on the beach near the Teare mansion. I guess it’s sort of trespassing, but since no one lives there, no one ever complains,” he flushed and looked down at his feet.

  “I’m not interested in busting up your beach parties,” Rockwell told the teen. “I’m sure you always leave the beach clean and tidy.”

  “Oh, yes, sir,” Jason nodded. “We just go and sit and talk, maybe take a few beers, nothing stronger, and we all walk from home so no one is driving or anything.”

  “Fair enough,” the inspector told him. “But what did you see that was strange?”

  “Well, I guess it wasn’t that strange. I mean, it’s her property, right? There wasn’t any reason why Ms. Teare shouldn’t have been walking on the beach there. It was just that I’d never seen her with a guy before, and she was acting all kind of weird with him as well.”

  “Weird how?” The inspector’s tone stayed even, while Bessie pressed her lips tightly together. She didn’t want Jason to know how important the information he had might be.

  “She was acting sort of giddy and silly, laughing and, well, flirting I guess,” Jason shrugged. “I know she was kind of old, but she was acting like a teenaged girl with a crush or something.”

  “When was this?” the inspector asked.

  “About a month ago, maybe?” Jason sounded uncertain. “It was still quite cold once the sun went down and sunset was still really early. I didn’t break my curfew that night for sure.”

  “But you don’t remember the exact date?”

  “Sorry, we hang out there a lot. The nights kind of all run together.”

  “Can you describe the man?” Rockwell asked.

  Jason loo
ked at him blankly. “He was just some guy. I mean, I think he had brown hair, but I wasn’t really paying attention. We were like, um, hiding, sort of, because we really weren’t supposed to be there, you know? I was more worried about them seeing us than anything else.”

  “You’re sure it was Moirrey Teare?”

  “Well yeah, I mean, everyone knew her. We all tried to avoid her whenever we saw her anywhere. She didn’t like children or teenagers. Maybe she didn’t like anyone, but she certainly seemed to like this guy.”

  “But you can’t tell me anything more about the man?” Rockwell asked.

  “I didn’t really notice,” Jason said apologetically. “But I can call Jennifer. I bet she noticed more than I did. Girls always pay more attention to that stuff than guys do.”

  Bessie considered arguing with him, but didn’t. While the sweeping generalisation annoyed her, she hoped he was right in this instance.

  “As you’re meant to be grounded, I assume you aren’t supposed to be calling your girlfriend,” Bessie suggested.

  “Well, no, I guess not, but if it’s police business, that’s different, right?” Jason grinned.

  “How about if you call her and explain what we’re interested in and then I’ll talk to her?” the inspector suggested.

  “Um, no offense, sir, but I think she’d be happier talking to Aunt Bessie. You might make her nervous.”

  The inspector grinned. “I often have that effect on people,” he admitted. “I’m happy for Bessie to talk to her.”

  Jason went to Bessie’s phone and dialled a number he clearly knew by heart. Bessie and the inspector smiled at each other as Jason nervously asked for Jennifer when the call was answered. A moment later, after Jason had explained the reason for the call, Bessie was talking to Jennifer.

  “Hello, dear,” she said. “How’s your mother recovering from her surgery last week?”

  “Oh, she’s doing great, Aunt Bessie. I’ll tell her you asked. She’ll be pleased that you remembered.”

  “I’ve been thinking of stopping in to visit,” Bessie told her. “But I don’t want to be in the way.”

  “Oh, she’s well ready for visitors,” Jennifer told her. “She’s about climbing the walls from boredom. She’s used to working every day. Sitting at home is making her nuts.”

  Bessie laughed. “Tell her I’ll be around tomorrow afternoon around two o’clock with some American-style brownies for her to try.”

  “Ooooo, I’ll have to make sure I’m home as well,” Jennifer said excitedly.

  Bessie laughed. “In the meantime, what can you tell me about Moirrey Teare?”

  “Well, it was sort of weird, seeing Ms. Teare with a guy, you know? Like, I didn’t know she’d found a boyfriend and then there they were, walking on the beach hand in hand.”

  “They were holding hands?” Bessie checked.

  “Yep, and, um, she kissed him, like.”

  “She kissed him, not the other way around?”

  “No, that was kind of strange, too. They were walking along the water’s edge and then she stopped and reached up and kissed him. I mean, he didn’t push her away or anything, but he didn’t look all that into it, either.”

  “Was he someone you knew?”

  “No, in fact, I’d never seen him before anywhere,” Jennifer told her.

  “Can you describe him?” Bessie asked.

  Inspector Rockwell passed Bessie a sheet of paper with a few questions scribbled on it. Bessie grinned when she saw that the first question on his list was the one she’d just asked.

  “He was a few inches taller than Ms. Teare. He had light brown hair and I think his eyes were brown as well. He was wearing a business suit, or rather he was wearing a shirt and tie with the tie loosened and the top button undone and dark grey trousers. Ms. Teare had the matching jacket on.”

  “She did? Okay, maybe you’d better describe her as well.”

  Jennifer laughed. “She didn’t look like herself,” the girl told Bessie. “She had her hair pulled back and curled somehow and she was wearing a bunch of makeup, although it hadn’t been put on very well. She was wearing a long skirt, or maybe a dress. I couldn’t see the top because she had the man’s suit jacket on, like I said.”

  “That’s a lot of detail you picked up on a dark beach,” Bessie commented.

  “Oh, I couldn’t see much on the beach,” Jennifer answered. “I saw them earlier in the evening, when I was first walking towards the beach. I was coming from home and had to cross behind Ms. Teare’s cottage. As I walked behind it, I heard voices on her patio and stopped to see what was going on. I’ve gone past her place dozens of times and there’s never been anyone on the patio before.”

  “But this night Moirrey and her date were on the patio?”

  “Yeah, they were sitting and talking and drinking wine. Ms. Teare was wearing the man’s jacket, which made sense because it was pretty chilly. The sun was just going down and it was starting to get dark.”

  “I’m surprised you could see Moirrey’s makeup if it was getting dark,” Bessie remarked.

  “I only spotted it when the lights suddenly came on,” Jennifer told her. “Ms. Teare had these high-powered security lights at the back of her cottage. Jason and I know exactly where to walk to avoid setting them off; they have motion sensors on them, you know? Anyway, Ms. Teare and the guy were sitting and talking and then, when Ms. Teare got up for some reason, she set off her own security lights.”

  “And you were able to get a good look at both her and her companion?”

  “Exactly. He didn’t look best pleased, either,” Jennifer told Bessie. “The lights were really bright and the whole back of the house was lit up. He looked around, as if he was worried someone might see him, and he said something nasty to Ms. Teare.”

  “How do you know it was something nasty?”

  “I guess I don’t, really, but he looked angry and then she looked really apologetic and sad and seemed to be talking a lot. After a minute she went in and switched off the lights. While she was doing that, I slipped past and headed for the beach.”

  “Did you notice any cars parked at the cottage?”

  “Ms. Teare’s car was there, it always was, and so was another car. It had a sticker from one of the hire car companies, but I can’t remember which one.”

  “Did you notice what sort of car it was?”

  “Sorry, cars aren’t really my thing. I think it was blue?”

  Bessie laughed. “I never notice cars, either. Anyway, you headed to the beach and then you saw Ms. Teare and her date there a little while later?”

  “Yeah, we were really careful to stay away from the open area that night, just in case, but I was still really surprised when they came walking down to the beach. They came down from the mansion, as well. I’m not sure if they went inside or just walked past it, but that seemed like a long walk for Ms. Teare.”

  “Indeed,” Bessie mused. “Moirrey never walked any further than she absolutely had to, because of her ill health.”

  “Well, she seemed to be feeling pretty good that night,” Jennifer told her. “She was giggling and flirting and splashing in the water. It was like watching my thirteen-year-old sister with a boy she thinks is cute.”

  Bessie couldn’t help but laugh, even as she felt sorry for Moirrey. “I don’t suppose you remember exactly when this was?” she asked.

  “Sometime in the middle of March,” Jennifer said slowly. “I can look in my journal and get you the exact date if you want.”

  “That would be great,” Bessie told her, wincing as Jennifer set the phone down on a hard surface with a bang.

  “It was Friday, March 13th,” she told Bessie when she returned.

  “How unlucky,” Bessie remarked. “Anyway, that’s great information, thank you.” Bessie wound up the conversation, reminding the girl that she would be visiting the next day. When she hung up, she grinned at the inspector. “Well, how very interesting.”

  The inspector shook
his head at Bessie. “Jason, thanks for all of your help,” he told the teen. “I think now would be a good time for you to head upstairs.”

  “Hang on one second,” Bessie forestalled him. “I just have one quick question. The night you saw Moirrey and her friend, did you notice the cars in Moirrey’s driveway?”

  Jason shook his head. “I was coming from home,” he explained. “I didn’t go past Ms. Teare’s cottage on my way to the beach.”

  “Never mind.” Bessie grinned and threw her own generalisation at him. “I just figured boys are more likely to notice cars than girls.”

  Jason nodded, missing the stereotyping in the remark as he agreed. “I love cars,” he told Bessie. “But I can’t remember what I didn’t see.”

  “True,” Bessie shrugged. “You get on upstairs and finish your book. I’ll want to know if you guessed the murderer or not when you’ve finished.”

  “Oh, I know who did it,” Jason said confidently. He named a character, and Bessie just barely held back a laugh.

  “Wait and see,” Bessie grinned, almost wishing she could sit and watch his face as he finished the book and discovered the real culprit. He was in for a shock.

  Inspector Rockwell was grinning as well. After Jason left Rockwell asked Bessie which book the young man was reading. “I actually guessed the murderer in that one in chapter three,” he told Bessie. “I was convinced that I was wrong, though, until the very end. I couldn’t have been much older than young Jason when I read it and I was unbelievably excited when I found out I was correct.”

  “And that’s what set you on your way to becoming a police inspector,” Bessie suggested.

  Rockwell flushed. “Actually, I joined the police because there was this girl....” he trailed off and looked embarrassed. “Maybe that’s a story for another day,” he suggested.

  “I’m going to hold you to that,” Bessie threatened. The inspector just laughed.

  Bessie quickly filled him in on everything that Jennifer had said. “I guess that means we have confirmation of what Janet Munroe told us,” she concluded. “Moirrey had a boyfriend, even if I still can’t quite believe it.”

 

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