Aunt Bessie Needs

by Diana Xarissa

  Bessie nodded. “Do you know where he’s going to be working?”

  “One of the high street banks, but in their corporate offices, I think. He works with computers.”

  “I know a few people at a few of the banks,” Bessie said thoughtfully. “I can ring around and see if I can find out more about his being here.”

  Laura flushed. “I don’t want him to know that I’ve complained about him,” she said quickly. “He’d be furious if he found out that I’d told you what he did to me. If he finds out that someone is making inquiries into his being here, he’ll go mad.”

  “Only if he has something to hide.”

  “But he does,” Laura said. “A great deal, really. If I’d pressed charges, he probably wouldn’t be able to work for a bank anymore. They have rules about hiring criminals.”

  “Perhaps you should have pressed charges,” Bessie said as gently as she could.

  “I just wanted to get away from him. I told him that I wouldn’t press charges as long as he let me go. I never thought he’d come after me later.”

  “Can you still press charges now?”

  “It would impossible to prove anything at this point,” Laura said.

  “Surely the hospital kept records of your injuries?”

  “I don’t know what they kept, but, well, at the time I told them I’d fallen down the stairs.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” Bessie said.

  “They must have suspected something, though,” Laura said. “Because they sent a counselor in to talk to me about domestic violence. They wouldn’t have done that if they’d believed my story, would they?”

  “Perhaps not. Maybe you could get in touch with the counselor that you spoke to. She must have kept records of your conversation. She might be able to offer you some advice.”

  Laura sighed. “I just want to wake up tomorrow and find that he’s gone,” she said. “I don’t want to have to go to court and have to face him. I also don’t want everyone on the island to know what happened to me.”

  “I can understand that, but you also don’t want him to hurt another woman,” Bessie pointed out.

  “You’ll think I’m terrible, but I’d much rather he had another woman than be here, still bothering me.”

  Bessie pressed her lips together. She felt sorry for the other woman, but she didn’t agree with what she was saying. Laura should have pressed charges. From everything she’d said, the man was dangerous, and Bessie knew that Laura would feel terribly guilty if he ended up seriously injuring someone else.

  Laura took a sip of her tea and then shook her head. “I don’t even know what I’m saying,” she sighed. “Ever since I opened that letter I’ve been a mess. I can’t think straight. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Poor Henry doesn’t know what to think, but I’m sure he thinks he upset me somehow. I just can’t explain. I called off sick at work today and I’ve told them I won’t be in tomorrow, either.”

  “That’s probably wise,” Bessie said, suddenly worried about the woman driving herself home.

  “Last night I dreamed that I was at Castle Rushen, working in the ticket booth, and Marcus came in. You know how the booth is such a small space? Somehow he jumped into the booth with me and just started hitting me over and over again. I couldn’t get away. I screamed and screamed until I woke up.”

  Bessie patted the woman’s hand and then stood up, suddenly unable to sit still. She refilled their teacups again and dumped more biscuits onto the plate on the table. She paced around the small kitchen, trying to think what she could do for her friend.

  “I have a friend with a small hotel in Peel,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll have a room that you could stay in for a few days, just to get away from Douglas. That might set your mind at rest a bit.”

  Laura took a sip of tea and then slowly nibbled her way through a biscuit. When it was gone, she swallowed the rest of her tea and then stood up. “Thank you for the offer,” she said. “But I think I’m going to decline.”

  “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me,” Bessie said. “You’re always welcome to stay here for a few days as well. I have a guest room and it’s nearly always empty.”

  Bessie had spent nearly all of her adult life acting as something of an honourary auntie to the children of Laxey. Often this had meant letting disgruntled teens stay in her spare room when they were fighting with their parents. Bessie always had tea and sympathy for them, as well as a slightly different perspective on whatever the teen was upset about. A night or two at Bessie’s nearly always resulted in teens returning home ready to compromise with mum and dad about whatever had driven them away in the first place.

  In the past year, however, Bessie had found herself mixed up in a number of different murder investigations. It seemed that many Laxey area parents were now unwilling to allow their teens to “run away” to Bessie’s any longer. While she found this disappointing, Bessie was generally too busy to miss her teenaged guests.

  “Thank you,” Laura said. “But I’ve decided that I’m not going to let Marcus ruin my life any longer. I’m going home and I’m going to go back to work and I’m going to get on with things.”

  Bessie nodded. “Good for you,” she said. “If you do find that you need someone to talk to, please ring or simply drop in. I’m nearly always here.”

  “Can I help with the washing-up?” Laura asked.

  “Oh, no. I’ll leave the cups and plates for now and wash everything after dinner later. Thank you for offering, though.”

  Laura picked up her handbag and headed for the door. Bessie followed and swung the door open. Before she walked through it, Laura looked at Bessie.

  “Please, if anything happens to me, tell Henry that I really did care for him,” she said softly. “I’m going to be brave, but I really do think that Marcus will kill me if he gets the chance.”

  Chapter 3

  Laura slipped out the door and was away before Bessie could stop her. Bessie watched as the woman drove slowly along the road that ran behind the holiday cottages.

  If Laura won’t go to the police, I will, Bessie thought angrily. She picked up her phone and rang the station in Laxey.

  “Laxey Neighbourhood Policing, this is Doona. How may I help you?” Doona’s voice was reassuring to Bessie as she sat down in the nearest chair.

  “Doona, it’s Bessie. I’ve just had tea with Laura and, well, I think I need some advice from John.”

  “From John? Is Laura in trouble?”

  “No, not as such,” Bessie said. “I’d really just like to speak to John.”

  “I’ll have him give you a ring,” Doona told her. “He’s not in the office right now, but I’ll text him and tell him you’d like to speak to him.”

  “If he’s busy, it can wait,” Bessie said, hoping she was right.

  “He’s at the site of a burglary that happened last night in Lonan. I’ll text him and tell him to ring you when he’s finished there.”

  “A burglary in Lonan?” Bessie gasped.

  “Don’t worry, the island is still one of the safest places in the world. We have reason to believe that things aren’t exactly what they appear in Lonan. That’s why John is there.”

  “I hope you’ll be able to tell me the whole story one day,” Bessie said.

  “I’m sure I will.”

  Bessie put down the phone and paced anxiously around her kitchen. She could ring Peter Corkill in Douglas, but she didn’t want John to think that she’d gone behind his back. While it felt as if speed was required, she had no reason to think that Laura was in any immediate danger. Telling herself that over and over again, Bessie sat down with a book. She wasn’t surprised that she was unable to concentrate, however. The words seemed to dance across the page, with certain words leaping out of the text at her. Words like “danger” and “murder” were the only words she could make out clearly.

  “Maybe I should try something other than a murder mystery,” she said to herself as she shut the book. S
he was just heading for the stairs to search her shelves when the phone rang.

  “What can I do for you, Bessie?” John asked.

  “I’m worried about a friend,” Bessie replied. “I think she needs some advice from the police.”

  “And you’re ringing to ask me to meet with her?”

  “She doesn’t want to meet with you,” Bessie sighed. “I was hoping I could talk it all through with you and then I could decide what to do next.”

  “I’m happy to talk to you anytime,” John assured her. “But if your friend is really in trouble, she should be the one talking to me, or someone else in the police, if she’d prefer.”

  “I know, but this is the best I can do at the moment.”

  “I’m just finishing up a few things at a house in Lonan. I need to go back to the office to file a report. How about if I grab a pizza and bring it to your cottage around half five?”

  “That would be lovely. I’ll make an apple crumble while I wait for you.”

  “I’ll see you around half five, then.”

  Bessie put down the phone and looked at the clock. An apple crumble wouldn’t take long to put together, assuming she had all of the ingredients. A quick check of her cupboards set her mind at rest. Feeling as if trying to read would be a waste of time, Bessie pulled on a light jacket and headed out for another walk on the beach. With her thoughts in turmoil, she walked past Thie yn Traie and continued on until she’d nearly run out of time. John wouldn’t mind if the crumble wasn’t ready when he arrived, but Bessie rushed home anyway. She was just sliding the pudding into the oven when someone knocked on her door.

  “I think I could smell the pizza through the door,” Bessie said as she gave the man a hug.

  He set two large pizza boxes on the counter and smiled at her. “It might be the garlic bread you can smell. It was certainly very strong in the car on the way here.”

  “Whatever it is, it smells wonderful,” Bessie said. She pulled down plates and got fizzy drinks for them both from the refrigerator before piling slices of both pizza and garlic bread onto her plate. John had already filled his plate and sat down at the kitchen table.

  “Kys t’ou?” John asked.

  Bessie hesitated. “I’ve no idea how to answer that, really. Nothing we’ve learned in class thus far can begin to describe how I feel.”

  John put a hand on her arm. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “Let’s eat first,” Bessie suggested. “Unless you have to rush away?”

  “I’m not in any hurry tonight,” John assured her. “The only thing I need to do tonight is study my Manx, and I’ve already practiced that.”

  Bessie chuckled. “I don’t know that Marjorie would consider that as sufficient practice.”

  “Probably not. Let’s do a bit more, then.”

  While they ate, John and Bessie practiced everything that they had learned the previous evening, although Bessie was forced to get up and get her notes after the first few minutes.

  “I can’t believe how much better you are at this than I am,” she complained as she pulled the bubbling apple crisp from the oven. “I’ve taken the class several times before and I still can’t remember half as much as you.”

  “I practiced with Doona this morning,” John admitted.

  Bessie felt slightly better, but she was still frustrated by the relative ease with which the man seemed to be learning the language. “Doona said there was a burglary in Lonan?” she changed the subject.

  “It won’t be going into the books as a burglary,” John told her. “A young couple that were living together had something of a disagreement. The young man left a few days ago, and while he was gone the young woman had the lock on the front door changed. When the man came back to collect his things, he couldn’t get in.”

  “So he broke in?”

  John nodded. “He’d had a few drinks and he was angry about the lock, so he broke a window. No one was home as the young lady was out with her new boyfriend.”

  “That was fast,” Bessie remarked.

  “Yes, the young man wasn’t very happy about that, either. Anyway, when the young lady returned home and found the broken window, she rang the police before she went inside, which is exactly what she should have done. In the cold light of this morning, she went through the house and she’s agreed that the only things that were taken were those that belonged to her former boyfriend.”

  “But he did break a window,” Bessie said.

  “He did. His parents actually own the house, though. They’re not going to press charges, and they’ve asked the young woman to leave.”

  “How very odd.”

  “It’s nowhere near the oddest thing I’ve seen as a policeman,” John told her as she put a plate of apple crumble with ice cream in front of him.

  “I’m sure you could tell stories all night. Perhaps you should write a book.”

  “Maybe when I retire,” John shrugged. “But for now we should talk about what’s bothering you, or rather your friend.”

  Bessie nodded and sat down with her own, much smaller, serving of crumble with ice cream. “I’m going to assume that everything I say is confidential,” she began. “Because I’m sure the person who told me all of this would be very upset if she knew that I’d told you.”

  John nodded. “I won’t repeat anything you tell me unless I feel I have to in order to protect someone.”

  For a moment Bessie hesitated. Once John heard what she was going to say, he might well feel that he needed to do something to protect Laura. Bessie really didn’t want to break Laura’s trust, but she was also worried about her friend’s safety. With Laura’s last words ringing in her ears, Bessie began.

  “Laura moved to the island to get away from an abusive ex-husband. Now he’s followed her to the island,” she said.

  John nodded. “I suspected it was something to do with Laura, given how upset she was last night. Has she given you any idea as to the severity of the abuse?”

  “She said the last time he beat her up, she ended up in hospital, and that she’s afraid he’s going to kill her.”

  “Does she know where he’s living?”

  “Apparently he’s in a flat not far from hers. He sent her a letter to let her know he was here.”

  “Laura lives in Douglas?” John asked.

  “Yes, not far from the Manx Museum.”

  “I’ll ring Pete and let him know about the situation. Do you know the man’s full name?”

  “She only ever referred to him as Marcus,” Bessie said. “I don’t know if she went back to her maiden name after the divorce or not.”

  “I suspect she will have done,” John said. “I’ll have Pete make a few inquires, but there isn’t very much we can do.”

  “He should be arrested and put into prison.”

  “Did she press charges against him?”

  “No,” Bessie admitted reluctantly.

  “It’s her word against his,” John reminded her. “If she kept records of her injuries and had the hospital report, it would help.”

  “She told the hospital that she’d fallen down the stairs, but they sent a domestic violence counselor to see her, so they must have suspected what really happened.”

  “As I said, I’ll have Pete make a few discreet inquires, but there’s nothing else we can do beyond keeping an eye on the situation, really.”

  “That’s frustrating,” Bessie replied.

  “In the US, there are restraining orders, and I’m sure we’ll have something like that in the near future, but they aren’t here yet.”

  “So there’s no point in her speaking to you anyway,” Bessie said sadly.

  “On the contrary. She really should speak to Pete herself. She could give him much more information than you’ve given me and she could show him the letter. If there’s anything at all threatening in the tone of the letter, we would have a reason to speak to the man, anyway.”

  “I’ll try to persuade her to talk to Pete, then,”
Bessie said. “I just feel so helpless.”

  “Do keep in mind that there are two sides to every story,” John cautioned her. “I know Laura is your friend, and you believe her, but we also don’t want to harass an innocent man, or even one who has changed his ways.”

  “If he’s changed, why did he follow her here?”

  “Did he tell Laura anything about that in his letter?”

  “Apparently he was offered a good job in the banking sector,” Bessie replied. “Too good to pass up.”

  John made a few quick notes. “That might make him easier to find, anyway,” he said. “I’ll share all of this with Pete in the morning. If you talk to Laura again, please urge her to contact Pete herself.”

  Bessie nodded. “You mean keep urging her,” she said. “Maybe you could suggest it to her yourself during class next week.”

  “We’ll see what Pete can find out over the next few days. I don’t want her to know that we’ve discussed the matter if we can help it. I’d much rather she feel comfortable coming to you with her concerns, and she might not want to do that if she thinks you’re going to be talking about her to the police.”

  “Thank you,” Bessie said. “I’ll sleep better tonight knowing that you’re aware of what’s happening, at least.”

  “If she’s really worried about her safety, maybe she should take a short holiday,” John suggested as he stood up to leave.

  “I offered to put her up in a hotel in Peel or to let her stay here, but she said she wasn’t going to let her ex-husband ruin her life any longer. I wish she would have agreed to stay here for a few days at least, but I understand her reasons, I suppose.”

  She walked John to the door and watched as he climbed into his unmarked police car. As he drove away, she pushed the door shut and then leaned against it. Having shared Laura’s story with John, she felt as if all the nervous energy that had been rushing around her body since Laura left had suddenly gone. A look at the clock showed her that it was far too early for her to head to bed, so she tidied the kitchen, mostly unnecessarily, and then tried again with her book.