Aunt Bessie Knows (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 11)

by Diana Xarissa

  “The guests will think I’m terrible for not being there to greet them,” she told Bessie.

  “It’s a party,” Bessie reminded her. “I’m sure no one will have even noticed.”

  The pair left the office and headed to the great room. Bessie forced herself to ignore the police inspector who was on their heels. In the doorway of the great room, Bessie looked around. Everything looked almost exactly the same as it had on New Year’s Eve. Bessie took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and headed towards the corner. For a little while at least, she could simply watch the show.

  She was even more relieved tonight than she had been on Thursday when Doona arrived. Bessie smiled as her friend approached. Doona had clearly taken the police instructions seriously, as her hair and makeup had been done as carefully tonight as they had been at the actual party. She greeted Bessie with a hug and then looked around.

  “It’s creepy,” she whispered. “I feel like I’ve walked into my own past or something. Everything is exactly the same.”

  “So we have to chat for a few minutes and then join Elizabeth and her friends,” Bessie said.

  “Yes, that’s right,” Doona agreed as the pair took glasses of champagne from the passing waiter.

  “No alcohol tonight,” Bessie said.

  “It still tastes good, anyway,” Doona replied after her first sip.

  “How did things go between Hugh and Grace?” Bessie had to ask.

  “They still hadn’t said one word to one another before I left,” Doona told her, frowning. “I just hope everything gets worked out tonight so they can sort themselves out.”

  “The reconstruction isn’t going to help,” Bessie said. “It’s just going to remind Grace of why she was so upset to begin with.”

  Doona shrugged. “I hope it all works out eventually,” she repeated herself.

  “Me too,” Bessie replied.

  “So let’s go and join Elizabeth and her friends, then,” Doona said loudly, glancing sideways.

  Bessie looked over to see what Doona had seen and met Anna’s amused eyes. “Pretend I’m not here,” she told Bessie.

  Bessie smiled tightly and then she and Doona crossed the room towards Elizabeth.

  “Ah, Bessie, do come and meet my friends,” Elizabeth said, her voice dull.

  As Elizabeth once again introduced Bessie and Doona to her group of friends, Bessie found herself wondering what was going to happen when they reached the point in the evening when Gennifer arrived. She was getting ahead of herself, though, as John Rockwell was the next to arrive.

  “Oh, there’s John,” Doona exclaimed.

  “We must go and talk to him,” Bessie said.

  They walked over to the man, and after exchanging hugs that felt forced because of the circumstances, stood around awkwardly. Hugh and Grace arrived only a moment or two later. Bessie could tell, from the strained looks on both of their faces, that they still weren’t speaking.

  Bessie hugged them each in turn and then smiled as brightly as she could. “And then we stood around and chatted for a bit,” she said.

  “Yes, and then Hugh wandered off to the buffet table,” Doona added.

  “Did I?” Hugh asked. “I suppose I should do that, then.”

  He glanced at Grace, but she was staring at her shoes. Bessie gave his arm a small squeeze, which earned her a half-hearted smile before he walked away.

  “And then Elizabeth came over,” Doona recalled, looking at John.

  “Oh, yes, er, maybe we could skip that part,” John suggested.

  “We’re meant to do everything exactly the same,” Bessie reminded him.

  “Hello, again,” Elizabeth cooed. “I know this is meant to be helpful for working out what happened to Gennifer, but it isn’t going to be at all good for my ego, watching you run away from me again,” she told John.

  “It wasn’t you,” John said. “It was the offer of food, that’s all.”

  “Really?” Elizabeth asked, taking a step closer to him.

  John turned bright red and quickly grabbed Doona’s arm. “Time for us to head over to the food, isn’t it?” he asked.

  Elizabeth laughed as they walked away. “I don’t know about him,” she said. “He’s a big bad police inspector, but he seems frightened of me.”

  Before Bessie could reply, Nigel appeared in the doorway and shouted for champagne. Elizabeth sighed. “Here we go,” she muttered.

  She walked over to Nigel and then spoke briefly. A moment later the whole room seemed to freeze as everyone waited to see what would happen next. Bessie felt as if she were holding her breath, almost hoping that Gennifer might appear. Instead, Anna Lambert stepped through the door.

  “If I could please have everyone’s attention for a moment,” she said. “I just have a few things to say to everyone before we continue.”

  Bessie heard a few whispers around the room, but they didn’t last long under Anna’s icy glare.

  “You all know why we’re here tonight. I’m hoping that by midnight I’ll have a much better idea of exactly what happened here on New Year’s Eve. You’ve all been very cooperative about dressing in the same clothes and arriving at the same time, and your cooperation is greatly appreciated. Now I have to ask you for one extra piece of assistance.” She paused and looked around the room.

  Bessie felt a chill down her spine as she made eye contact with the woman. If she’d been guilty of anything, Bessie felt sure she’d have confessed on the spot.

  “I can’t make the timeline work from the statements I’ve been given. There are gaps and overlaps and all sorts of contradictions. What I need each and every one of you to do is help me clear these up. That means if you see someone in the room at a time you don’t think they were here, please let one of the constables know. If you go to the loo and the person in the queue in front of you isn’t the same one as on Thursday, let us know. Those are the sorts of things we need to help clear up the timeline. Ninety per cent of the discrepancies will, no doubt, turn out to be minor issues due to people forgetting they stepped outside for some air or wandered into the kitchen for a fresh glass of champagne. Everyone needs to help us work out exactly what happened on Thursday.”

  Bessie glanced at Grace, who looked pale. No doubt the woman was thinking about the ten per cent of discrepancies that weren’t minor at all. That was certainly what Bessie was focussed on. If everyone did as Anna asked, she might just be able to work out who killed Gennifer.

  “I thank you all again for your participation tonight,” Anna said now. “Again, please alert anyone on my staff to any minor issue. Now we’ll carry on with the evening. This is Constable Amanda Evans from the Douglas Constabulary. She will be standing in for Gennifer for the rest of the evening.”

  Anna stepped aside as the young woman walked into the room. She was shorter than Gennifer had been and she was wearing much more sensible shoes. Her dress was white, but it was considerably more modest than Gennifer’s tiny sequined number had been. Bessie wasn’t sure that the red wig was flattering on the girl, but she supposed it was necessary, as her hair had been one of Gennifer’s most striking features.

  “I believe I began the evening by complaining about the party?” she said tentatively.

  Elizabeth sighed. “You did, and then you asked for champagne.”

  Bessie looked over at Grace and shrugged. “We headed for the food next,” she reminded the girl.

  “Yes, I know,” Grace said flatly.

  They joined the others as they had done at the party, and the group stood awkwardly together, waiting for “Gennifer” to join them.

  Bessie watched as the girl wandered through the party, chatting with each of Elizabeth’s friends in turn. As far as Bessie could recall, she was following in Gennifer’s footsteps exactly. Anna followed close behind her, with her notes in hand. As she approached Bessie’s group, Bessie saw tears in Grace’s eyes.

  “I know I came over and talked to you for a while,” the fake Gennifer said.
“So, how are you all enjoying the party?”

  “You’re supposed to be following the script,” Anna told the girl. “We have the conversation that took place here from several different witnesses.”

  “Yes, well it wasn’t a very nice conversation,” the girl replied. “I don’t intend to try flirting with Hugh. We trained together and he’s far too nice a guy to have to suffer through that sort of thing twice. And then I’m meant to fight with poor Nigel, who’s been through a lot this week. Surely the timing of everything matters more than exactly what was said?”

  Anna glared at her and Bessie worried for a moment that the girl might get fired on the spot. Nigel arrived before Anna spoke.

  “I’m here,” he said dramatically. “And now we must shout at one another and I must make vague threats that were probably a great deal more impressive than I remember.”

  The fake Gennifer giggled. “I’m meant to laugh at you and be mean, so please pretend that I am.”

  “After this is all over, you are going to join us for champagne, right?” Nigel asked her. “I’d love a chance to talk to the real you.”

  The girl flushed. Anna opened her mouth to speak, but she was interrupted by George’s arrival.

  “And here I am to drag young Gennifer away to meet Robert,” he said loudly. “Come along, my dear, off we go.”

  The girl nodded, took a step and then turned back and whispered something in Hugh’s ear. He flushed and looked down at the floor.

  “Now I’m supposed to try to apologise for Gennnifer, but end up saying nasty things about her,” Elizabeth said. “Which I feel horrible about now, because she did end up dead a few hours later.” With that, Elizabeth rushed away behind the retreating Nigel.

  “What an unpleasant couple,” Bessie said, pleased that she’d remembered her words from Thursday.

  “They deserve each other,” Doona said, giving Bessie a grin.

  The awkward silence that followed Doona’s words reminded everyone what had happened next.

  “I think this is about when Grace went over to look out the window,” Bessie said, trying to soften the uncomfortable moment.

  “I think you’re right,” Grace said in a small voice. She went and sat with her back to them while Hugh looked sadly after her.

  “I can’t go and talk to her,” he said.

  “No, but the others are about to join her,” Bessie reminded him.

  Bessie watched as more people arrived. She chatted with a few, doing her best to speak to them in the right order and in the right location. She was corrected a couple of times by one of the constables, who seemed to have extensive notes on everything that had happened.

  “I think you’re meant to be by the buffet table just now,” one said to her as she stood in the centre of the room, feeling a bit lost. Bessie was about to move that way when Liz and Bill arrived. She could remember exactly where she’d been when she’d greeted them, so she quickly crossed to them, giving Liz a hug.

  “How are you?” she asked.

  “We’re good,” Liz replied.

  Bessie studied her friend intently and felt relieved to see that the girl looked better tonight. Liz was holding Bill’s hand tightly, and she didn’t drop it when she saw the fake Gennifer.

  “Who’s playing Gennifer, then?” she asked.

  “A police constable from Douglas,” Bessie told her. “She actually seems very nice.”

  “And here she comes,” Bill said.

  “Ah, good evening,” the fake greeted them. “I’m now meant to be horrid to you, aren’t I? This is very hard work, being mean all the time.”

  “I thought we agreed that you’d stick to the script,” Anna hissed from her side.

  “I just can’t flirt with the man,” the girl protested. “He’s clearly madly in love with his wife, and she’s adorable.”

  “Just do your job,” Anna snapped.

  The girl looked at Liz and Bill and shrugged. “You used to be such fun,” she said to Bill. She leaned over to whisper something in his ear and then walked away.

  Bessie watched her go and then looked curiously at Bill, who was chuckling. “What did she say?” she asked.

  Bill watched until both the fake Gennifer and Anna Lambert were some distance away before her spoke. “She said she thought her boss would have been better at pretending to Gennifer than she is,” he said, laughing.

  Bessie and Liz laughed as well and then Bessie went back to watching the crowd. A moment later, “Gennifer” walked out of the room. Bessie glanced at her watch. They were doing a good job keeping to the timeline, she thought. It was almost exactly eleven.

  After thinking for a moment, Bessie began a slow walk towards the bar. That was where she’d encounter Hugh, who was the next person she’d spoken with. She resisted the urge to sigh as she watched one of the constables check his notes. This playacting was exhausting her and they’d only just reached the time when things could get interesting.

  Hugh arrived right on schedule, dripping wet, with a constable on either side of him. They were also dripping wet, which made Bessie smile.

  “It’s just as bad tonight as it was on Thursday,” Hugh told Bessie. “Maybe even worse.”

  He got his pint and headed off to try to talk to Grace. “This is a total waste of time,” he muttered. “I know she isn’t going to speak to me.”

  “I’ll help you sort everything out on that front once the case is solved,” Bessie promised him.

  Hugh nodded and walked away. Bessie watched him go and then turned again to look around the room. She watched George and his crowd of friends leaving, presumably on their way to the wine cellar. Elizabeth’s friends seemed to be moving in and out of the room every other minute. Bessie watched as two different constables checked their notes and then spoke to Sarah. The girl nodded and then got up and left the room.

  “Pardon me, but I believe you went to the loo around this time,” a voice near Bessie’s ear said.

  Bessie jumped and nearly spilled the champagne that she had been carrying around for much of the evening. “I beg your pardon,” she said to the young constable.

  “According to my notes, in your statement you said that you went to the loo around now,” the man told her.

  Bessie sighed. “I suppose I must have,” she said. “If it’s in your notes.”

  He nodded, clearly missing the sarcasm in her tone. Bessie sighed and then headed out of the room. The loo wasn’t a bad idea; if nothing else, it would be a change of scenery. Besides, he was probably right. She’d guessed at the timing when she’d given her statement, but she couldn’t have been more than a few minutes off, as she’d been keeping a fairly close eye on the clock, waiting for midnight so that she could go home.

  She joined the queue, noting that the woman in front of her was the same as previously.

  “This is crazy,” another woman said. “There must be loos all over this house, as big as it is. I’m going to find one.”

  She stomped off down the corridor, with a constable right behind her. Bessie was temped to follow, but she hadn’t done so previously so she knew she couldn’t tonight. Shifting her weight back and forth and wishing she’d worn more comfortable shoes, she waited patiently for her turn. When it finally came, she felt painfully aware that at least one police constable would be timing her visit. Now she couldn’t remember if she’d combed her hair or touched up her lipstick previously. She wanted to get the timing right, but she simply wasn’t certain. With a sigh, she made a face at herself in the mirror and walked back out into the corridor.

  The woman who had gone hunting for another loo was just coming back down the hall. She smiled at Bessie and then at the police constable at Bessie’s elbow.

  “That woman, the one who dragged us all here, she said we should report anything that’s different, right?” she asked the man.

  “Yes, that’s right,” the man replied. “Has something happened that’s different to what you remember?”

  “Yes, but i
t’s only a tiny little thing,” she said.

  “It could still be important. What is it?” he asked.

  “Well, I went off in search of more loos and I found a nice one near the front door. On the night of the party, after I’d, um, finished, when I opened the door, there was a man walking down one of the corridors towards me. I, well, I stepped back into the loo and shut the door. I didn’t want him to see me, in case I wasn’t meant to be there,” she explained, blushing.

  The constable looked at her and raised his eyebrows.

  “My husband is trying to get an huge investment from George Quayle,” she said defensively. “He told me I had to be on my very best behaviour, and I’d already had too much to drink, which meant I couldn’t wait patiently for a loo. He’d have been furious if I’d have been found in a part of the house where guests weren’t meant to be.”

  The man nodded and made a note. “And that person wasn’t in the corridor tonight?” the constable asked.

  “No, he wasn’t,” the woman replied.

  The man nodded. “Wait here a minute,” he told the woman.

  She sighed deeply. “Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut,” she muttered. “My husband isn’t going to be happy about this.”

  “But if you help the police catch the killer, George and Mary will be delighted,” Bessie told her.

  The woman brightened noticeably. “They probably wouldn’t even mind that I was in the wrong place,” the woman said.

  “I’m sure they won’t,” Bessie told her.

  The constable arrived back with Anna Lambert in tow. It only took the woman a moment to repeat the story for her.

  “Did you recognise the man?” Anna asked.

  “I’d seen him at the party, but I don’t know who he is,” the woman replied.

  “Can you point him out to me?” was Anna’s next question.

  “Certainly,” the woman said.

  Anna and the woman walked towards the great room with Bessie close behind, trying to look as if she were just strolling back to where she belonged. In the great room, the woman glanced around and then pointed.

  “It was him,” she told Anna. The band finished a song just as the woman spoke again. “That’s the man I saw in the empty corridor.”