Bessie checked her postbox when she got back to her flat and was surprised to find all of the letters from Monday and Tuesday had finally arrived. She shook her head. She hadn’t posted anything today, and now, with Howard’s disappearance, she wasn’t sure she cared very much about the delayed post.
She knocked on Bahey’s door before she stopped at her own flat. One look at her friend’s face told her what she wanted to know.
“You haven’t heard from him,” Bessie said flatly.
“No,” Bahey replied sadly. “I went and did my volunteer hours, but it was hard. Now I guess I’ll just sit here and worry.”
“Maybe we should ring his daughter,” Bessie said. “We just need to make up some excuse for doing so.”
Bahey let Bessie in, and the pair sat down and discussed their options.
“Maybe you could ring and say you’re trying to come up with ideas for presents for his birthday,” Bessie suggested.
“The thing is,” Bahey said slowly. “Carla and I don’t really get along very well. That is, we haven’t actually met or anything, but she doesn’t like the idea of her father dating. I’ve only spoken to her twice, and both times she was openly hostile to me.”
Bessie frowned. That rather complicated things. They tossed around a few other ideas, but nothing seemed appropriate. After a while, Bessie fixed them both some dinner, but neither woman had much appetite. Bessie finally headed for home at nine.
“Ring me or come over if you hear anything,” she instructed her friend.
“I will,” Bahey promised.
Bessie let herself into her flat, where her answering machine light was flashing.
“Bessie, it’s Doona. I’m going to have to cancel for tomorrow. The regular weekend receptionist has one of those awful summer colds and just can’t seem to get rid of it. I told her I’d take her shift tomorrow so she can sleep. Sorry.”
There were a handful of other messages, including two from Alan Collins, asking if she’d made up her mind on the flat yet. Bessie deleted them all. It was too late to return Doona’s call, so Bessie got ready for bed and curled up with one of her new books. Within minutes, she felt as if she couldn’t keep her eyes open and gave up on reading.
At exactly six o’clock the next morning she woke up feeling rested and refreshed. As soon as her mind cleared, she immediately felt guilty. Poor Howard was missing and Bahey was a wreck; the least she should have done was sleep poorly.
After a shower and breakfast, Bessie headed out into a light rain for a short walk. The promenade was deserted and Bessie stuck to its paved surface, rather than struggle her way through the wet sand. That was one advantage to living in Douglas, she had to admit. There wasn’t any pavement along the beach in Laxey.
Bahey was already dressed when Bessie knocked on her door just after eight.
“I don’t know what to do,” she said as a greeting. “I don’t want to ring the police, but I’m worried about Howard.”
“I saw Inspector Corkill yesterday,” Bessie told her. “I told him about Howard, unofficially. He’s going to stop by today to talk to us.”
Bahey nodded. “Maybe Howard will ring before the inspector gets here,” she said, hopefully.
“Do you want to come over and wait in my flat?” Bessie suggested. “That’s where the inspector is planning to meet with us.”
“Sure,” Bahey shrugged. “Howard can leave a message on my machine if he rings,” she said, sounding miserable. She followed Bessie to her flat and Bessie opened the door. The sound of another door opening caused them both to stop.
“Ah, good morning, ladies,” Bertie beamed at them.
“Good morning,” Bessie said.
“Bahey, you don’t look very happy,” Bertie said, putting an arm around her. “I do hope you aren’t this sad just because Howard’s gone away.”
“How do you know Howard’s gone away?” Bessie demanded.
“I saw him getting into a taxi with a suitcase,” Bertie replied. “Why? Is it meant to be a big secret or something?”
Bessie shook her head. “Sorry, no, we just didn’t know that everyone knew, that’s all.”
Bertie looked from one woman to the other and then shrugged. “Anyway, if you’re lonely, I’d be happy to take you to dinner tonight,” he suggested to Bahey. “I know we both like that little Italian restaurant on the corner.”
Bahey shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m busy,” she said, almost mechanically. She stomped into Bessie’s flat, leaving Bessie to wind up the conversation with Bertie and then follow her.
“It sounds like Howard went willingly,” she said to Bahey once she’d joined her.
“Yeah, without bothering to tell me,” Bahey said miserably.
“Maybe it was an emergency,” Bessie replied. “Why don’t you wait and see what he says when he gets back?”
Bahey shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Bessie tried to start several conversations with her friend, but Bahey clearly didn’t want to talk. After a while, Bessie handed Bahey a book and then curled up with the one she’d started the previous evening. When she began to feel drowsy again, she decided it was the book rather than her body that was at fault and switched to an old favourite instead.
By midday Bahey seemed in better spirits.
“I don’t usually read much,” she told Bessie. “But this is pretty good.”
Bessie smiled at her. “Rex Stout is one of my favourite authors,” she replied. “He wrote a great many books about Nero Wolfe. I can lend you dozens more.”
Bessie fixed a light lunch for them both, and they were just sitting down to it when someone knocked on Bessie’s door.
“Good afternoon,” Inspector Corkill said formally when Bessie opened the door.
“Hello, inspector,” Bessie replied. “Please come in. We were just having some lunch. Would you like something?”
“A cup of tea and a biscuit would do nicely,” he told her. He sat down next to Bahey at the table while Bessie fixed his drink. She piled a dozen assorted biscuits on a plate and set that on the table when she rejoined the others.
“Have you anything to report from last night or today?” he asked Bessie after he’d finished a couple of biscuits.
“Bertie, who lives across the hall, told us that he saw Howard getting into a taxi the other night,” Bessie said. “Apparently he had a suitcase with him as well.”
The inspector raised an eyebrow. “That certainly suggests that he left voluntarily,” he said. “It doesn’t mean you can’t file a report, but I question whether it’s necessary.”
“I don’t want to file anything,” Bahey said. “He’s probably gone to see his daughter and just didn’t bother to tell me.”
“I’m sure he was just in a rush,” Bessie said, soothingly.
“He hasn’t rung since,” Bahey pointed out.
The inspector looked at Bessie and then down at his cup. He finished his tea and grabbed a couple more biscuits as he stood up. “I guess you won’t be needing me, then,” he said. “I’ll just go and have a little chat with the building manager before I leave.”
Bessie showed him out. “I wonder what he was going to talk to Nigel about,” she remarked to Bahey as she sat back down at the table.
Bahey shrugged. “Probably checking on Bertie’s story,” she said.
“Probably,” Bessie agreed.
After lunch Bahey insisted on returning to her own flat, leaving Bessie with an empty afternoon. The museum closed at one on a Saturday, so that meant she couldn’t get any further on her indexing today. After a few minutes of indecision, she headed for the nearest taxi rank.
The taxi ride into Ramsey was uneventful. Her driver was a Manx native and he filled the journey with complaints about all of the recent comeovers who were taking all the good jobs and driving up house prices. Bessie simply bit her lip and let him rant. The trip to Ramsey was far too short to change the man’s mind about anything.
Bessie spent an hour in h
er favourite bookstore, buying a few new books and chatting with the helpful staff. She stopped at each of the charity shops in town, checking their second-hand book piles and just generally looking around. After a couple of hours, she was ready to head for home. She had a taxi take her to her cottage in Laxey, using Bahey’s new interest in reading as her excuse.
An hour back in her own little home improved Bessie’s mood considerably. She dug out a handful of Rex Stout novels for Bahey to borrow and found a few books she wanted to read as well. A short stroll on the beach reminded her of how much she loved her home and also why she was enjoying her time in Douglas. The beach was crowded with large and noisy families who seemed determined to enjoy their holiday in spite of the weather. Although a light rain was falling, children were building sandcastles and people were splashing in the sea. Bessie dried off in her cottage and then rang her usual service for a ride back to Douglas.
The driver was one she barely knew. They chatted about the weather and his favourite football team until they arrived at Seaside Terrace. Bessie checked her postbox on her way in, but it was empty.
“How are you, my dear?” Nigel asked as she walked past.
“I’m fine,” Bessie replied shortly. She was in no way his ‘dear.’
“I thought maybe you’d like to get a drink tonight,” he said, smiling at her. “Maybe around seven?”
“Thank you, but no,” Bessie said firmly.
“Oh, but why not?” Nigel demanded.
“I’m not much of a drinker,” Bessie replied. “And I rarely go out on an evening.” And I find you rather repellant, she added to herself.
Nigel opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted. “Nigel?” a voice shouted from the corridor behind the man. “Nigel? I need you.”
The man rolled his eyes. “Mother’s just awake from her nap,” he explained to Bessie. He headed off down the hallway, leaving Bessie to wonder at how clearly she could understand the woman today.
The rest of the weekend passed slowly for Bessie. She spent much of Sunday watching the rain coming down heavily and reading the books she’d bought in Ramsey.
Monday felt like a fresh start to her and she was pleased to see the sun peeking out as she headed out of her flat for her walk. Her welcome mat hadn’t moved and there was no sign of the mirror, which made her feel even better. She waited patiently for the lift, contemplating which direction she felt like walking today. The soft “ping” warned her just before the doors to the lift slid open. Bessie took a step forward and almost fell over Howard, who was just emerging.
“Oh, goodness, I wasn’t expecting anyone to be on the lift,” Bessie said, apologetically.
Howard laughed. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be waiting for it, either,” he said. “And I’m rather very tired, so I not really paying attention to what I’m doing.”
“Bahey and I have been very worried about you,” Bessie said. “We nearly rang the police to report you missing.”
“But I left Bahey a note,” Howard protested. “I stuck it on her door before I went.”
“Well, she never received it,” Bessie told him. “Maybe the building prankster took it.”
Howard shook his head. “I didn’t even think about that as a possibility,” he said. “I’ve never really taken the whole prankster matter seriously. Bahey must be terribly upset with me.”
“I think she’s more worried than upset,” Bessie said. “But where were you?”
Howard smiled. “My daughter went into early labour,” he explained. “They thought the baby was coming and I dropped everything to be there. Turns out it was just a false alarm, and the doctor reckons she’s got another month or more to go. I’m only just back for a few days, though, and then I’m going to head back across. I want to be close in case she needs me.”
Bessie nodded. “I can’t imagine how exciting a grandchild would be.”
“It’s amazing,” he said. “I wish Harriet was able to share the experience with us all.”
“I’m sorry,” Bessie said.
“She’s been gone for quite some time now,” he said. “I’ve grown pretty used to be on my own, and, of course, now I have Bahey.” He hesitated. “Do you think, that is, what do think Bahey would say if I asked her to come across with me for a while? I’d like her to get to know my daughter and I’m sure she’d be a big help with the baby once he or she gets here.”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Bessie said. “Ask her and see what she says.”
Howard nodded and looked at his shoes. “I really care about Bahey. She’s nothing like Harriet, but that’s part of why I like her so much. I, well, I guess I’ll have to ask her and see.”
Bessie boarded the lift feeling relieved that Howard had turned up unharmed and happy that Bahey had found such a nice man. She walked slowly along the promenade, not really paying attention to her surroundings, her thoughts focussed instead on the strange happenings at Seaside Terrace.
Chapter Fifteen
When she got back to the building, Nigel was cleaning the glass panels in the front doors.
“Good morning, Miss Cubbon,” he said cheerfully. “How are you this morning?”
“Oh, I’m fine, how are you?” Bessie replied absently, her mind still mulling over Howard’s missing note.
“Just great,” Nigel replied. He looked past Bessie and frowned. “Or I was, anyway,” he muttered.
Bessie turned around and smiled at Inspector Corkill, who was walking towards them.
“Good morning,” she said. “How are you this morning?”
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’m just here to have a word with Mr. Green.”
“With Nigel?” Bessie blurted out without thinking. “Oh, well, I’ll just get out of your way, then.” She took a couple of steps into the building and then turned back. “By the way, Howard’s back,” she told the inspector. “He was just visiting his daughter.”
Corkill nodded. “That’s good news.”
Nigel looked like a rat caught in a trap as the inspector took his arm. Bessie was dying to stay and see what transpired, but she was clearly unwelcome. She headed back up to her flat and immediately rang Doona.
“I know you’re going to say you can’t tell me anything,” she said to her friend, “but I had to ring anyway. What’s Inspector Corkill doing here this morning?”
“I haven’t the foggiest idea,” Doona told her. “John’s back this morning, but he’s snowed under. I’ll try to have a word with him when he takes a coffee break and see if I can find out anything from him that’s not confidential.”
“Thanks,” Bessie said. “And tell John I’m glad he’s back.”
“We’re all glad he’s back,” Doona said with a laugh.
Bessie tried to settle in with a book, but she couldn’t concentrate. It could be anything, she told herself. Maybe Nigel has too many unpaid parking tickets or ran a stop sign. But that didn’t bring out the CID, a little voice teased. After pacing around her flat for half an hour, Bessie decided to ring another source.
“Mary? It’s Bessie. How are you today?”
“I’m fine,” Mary Quayle replied. “Or mostly fine, anyway.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The police have been. They’ve been asking questions about Nigel Green, the manager at Seaside Terrace,” Mary told her. “I was going to ring you later, when I knew more, but it seems like he’s been doing something illegal there. George is at the office with Grant and the Chief Inspector.”
“My goodness, it must be something serious if the Chief Inspector is involved,” Bessie said.
“Yes, I suppose so,” Mary answered. “I’ll let you know when I learn more.”
Bessie went back to her pacing. If she had to guess, she’d guess that this was something to do with the post. She knew it was against the law to tamper with post in any way, and she believed Nigel was doing just that. Perhaps he was taking everyone’s post and then looking through it for money. Or maybe he was even
opening people’s post and then blackmailing them based on what he discovered in the letters.
She shook her head. It was no use letting her imagination run away with her. Forcing herself to sit down with a book, Bessie read the same two paragraphs for another hour or more. When someone knocked on her door, she was grateful for the interruption, no matter what the source.
Bahey gave Bessie a huge smile when Bessie opened the door. “I can’t stay,” she told Bessie when Bessie invited her in. “I have to start packing.”
“Where are you off to?” Bessie asked, guessing her friend’s conversation with Howard had gone well.
“I’m going across with Howard. The baby might be coming early, and when he told his daughter about how I do all that volunteer work at Noble’s, helping out in maternity and even in the neonatal intensive care unit, she agreed that I might be a handy person to have around when the baby gets here.”
Bessie gave her friend a hug. “I’m so happy for you,” she told her. “And for Howard and his daughter.”
“I feel bad leaving you here, though,” Bahey said. “I mean you moved in here to help me and now I’m going across for a month or more. I’m really sorry.”
“Don’t be,” Bessie said firmly. “I have a feeling all of the odd things that were happening here won’t be happening anymore.”
“What did I miss?” Bahey demanded.
“I’m not sure yet,” Bessie answered. “But there’s definitely something going on.”
After she shut the door behind Bahey, Bessie did some more pointless pacing. I might as well just go for a walk, she decided after the twenty-third circuit of the small room. She grabbed her keys and headed for the door just as someone knocked on it.
Inspector Corkill looked startled when the door swung open before his hand had dropped.
“Inspector, this is a surprise,” Bessie said. “Please come in.”
The inspector glanced up and down the corridor and then followed Bessie into her flat. “I thought you were going to call me Pete,” he said as he dropped into a comfortable chair.
“I keep forgetting,” Bessie said, feeling as if his position in the police ought to accord him some respect, including being called by his title.
Aunt Bessie Finds (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 6) Page 23
