Aunt Bessie Remembers

by Diana Xarissa

  “I do,” Bessie agreed as she took the other woman’s hand. While Bessie was something of a Laxey institution, Mona Kelly was something of an island legend. Bessie reckoned that the woman was probably somewhere in her seventies, but she didn’t look much older than sixty. She was always beautifully dressed and perfectly made up, and even when she drove her expensive convertible around the island or got caught in the rain, her hair was always exactly in place.

  “This is my dear friend, Michael Higgins,” Mona said. “He was with, well, a government agency, let’s say, for many years. When he heard about tonight’s little gathering, he thought it might be fun to attend.”

  Bessie shook hands with the very handsome and distinguished-looking gentleman. That was the other thing about Mona. She was nearly always on the arm of one handsome and wealthy man or another. There was a group on the island that didn’t approve of Mona and her lifestyle. She had no visible means of support, though she lived lavishly, but Bessie didn’t think such things were any of her concern. Bessie herself had no visible means of support, either, although most people on the island knew her story. Mona preferred to keep things to herself, and Bessie wasn’t one to pry.

  “It’s lovely to meet you,” Bessie told the man.

  “Likewise, I’m sure. Mona has told me a little about you, and I had a long conversation with John Rockwell about you as well,” the man replied.

  Bessie opened her mouth to ask him why he’d been talking to John, but she was interrupted by Mona.

  “And you know Leonard and Liza, don’t you?” she asked Bessie.

  Bessie nodded and then greeted the couple. Leonard Hammersmith was an island businessman who’d made a great deal of money buying and selling parcels of land over the years. His wife, Liza, liked to pretend that they’d always been well off, but Bessie had known the man when he’d first started out, borrowing money from his mother to pay the deposit on an empty field. He sold the field a few months later for a huge profit to a large UK retail chain that wanted to open an island branch, and his success had continued from there.

  “Good evening,” Liza murmured to Bessie. “I would have thought that you’d have had enough of murder in real life.”

  “I have,” Bessie assured her. “I’m just here for dinner. I’m not taking part in the murder game.”

  “Oh, that is disappointing,” Mona said. “I was hoping we might match wits against one another. You’ve more real-world experience, but I’m sure I read as many detective novels as you do.”

  “It really isn’t for me,” Bessie told her, “but I hope you all enjoy it.”

  “Does everyone have their character cards?” Elizabeth asked from the doorway.

  A chorus of yeses came from around the room.

  “Excellent. We can sit down to dinner, then,” Elizabeth told them. “The gentlemen will be rotating around the table after each course so that people will have an opportunity to speak with everyone else. Please make sure to stay in character at all times.”

  “I would prefer to sit with my husband,” Liza Hammersmith said.

  “But he isn’t your husband tonight,” Elizabeth laughed. “I believe he’s the doctor from the neighbouring village and you are a spinster woman who’s never quite recovered from being slighted by your first love.”

  Liza sighed. “And you expect us to play these parts all through dinner?” she demanded.

  “That’s how it works,” Susan said from behind Elizabeth. “It’s only fun and successful if everyone takes part and tries to follow the rul, er, guidelines. Of course, some of the dinner guests aren’t playing.” She glanced at Bessie and Mary and then frowned. “I do hope they will still do their best to help the other guests remain in character anyway.”

  Bessie and Mary both nodded, while Bessie began to seriously regret agreeing to come.

  “Before you all take your seats, I should introduce Inspector Jerome Rhodes,” Susan continued.

  The man in question stood up, and then rocked a bit unsteadily before putting a hand on the back of the chair he’d just vacated. He cleared his throat and then shrugged. “I’ll be conducting the investigation after the murder takes place,” he said. “Until then, I’m just another guest.”

  “If you’d like to find your places at the table,” Susan said brightly. “There are place cards at each seat.”

  Chapter 3

  As everyone made their way towards the table, George Quayle rushed into the room. “I’m not late, am I?” he asked in his booming voice. “I had to take a phone call about a merger and then my advocate rang and…” he trailed off and smiled at everyone. “But I’m here now. Let the murder and mayhem begin.”

  Bessie shuddered at his words before continuing on to the table. She found her seat next to George, who was at the table’s head. When she noticed that Inspector Rhodes was on her other side, she frowned as she slid into her chair.

  “After the soup course all the gentlemen will move two seats to the right,” Susan said in an annoyingly perky voice. “Please remember to stay in character. You’ve all been given some background information about your character. Try to share some of that with the people on either side of you. Some of it may be relevant to the murder when it happens.”

  Bessie picked up her napkin and put it in her lap. Coming tonight had been a bad idea, she thought as she took a sip from the water glass in front of her. A moment later two waiters began pouring wine into glasses. Bessie hesitated and decided that one more glass of wine wouldn’t hurt. It had already been a long evening and it was only just beginning.

  The potato and leek soup smelled delicious as a second set of waiters began to distribute soup bowls. Bessie turned to George and smiled at him. “How are you tonight?” she asked.

  “Oh, I’m very well. Thank you,” he replied. “You aren’t playing, are you?” he asked as he leaned close to Bessie. He probably thought he was lowering his voice, as well, but George’s whisper was still loud by most standards.

  “I’m not,” Bessie agreed.

  “I’m meant to be the owner of a country house,” George told her. “Several of our guests are meant to be my children, but I’ve no idea which ones they are. I don’t think Elizabeth explained it all very well. I’m endlessly confused.”

  Bessie hid a smile. No doubt Elizabeth had done her best. George was generally too busy with his businesses to pay much attention to his wife and children. Everything Elizabeth said had probably gone in one ear and out the other. “I’m afraid I can’t help you,” she told George, “but as I’m not playing, we can talk about anything. Tell me how you are.”

  George shrugged. “Busy, working too hard according to my lovely wife, but otherwise fine. I’ve just bought another little company in the south of the island. They wanted me to invest, but it seemed to make more sense to simply buy them outright. They manufacture something tiny that goes inside something else that isn’t very big, either. I own the company that makes the bigger thing, you see, so now I own both parts. It should be a good investment.”

  Bessie nodded. “And how are the children and grandchildren?”

  “Oh, you’d have to ask Mary about that,” he replied. “As far as I know, they’re all fine, but she keeps track of them. I think one of the grandchildren had a birthday recently and one of my sons had a holiday in the US, but I can’t remember any of the details.”

  Bessie took a few bites of her soup and sighed happily. While the company might be less than ideal, the food was excellent.

  “I’m not much for soup,” Inspector Rhodes said from Bessie’s other side.

  “No? I think it’s delicious,” Bessie told him.

  “It’s not bad, I just prefer food that I can chew,” he explained.

  “I see,” Bessie replied.

  “Did I hear that you aren’t playing the game, then?” he asked.

  “That’s right. I’m not,” she agreed.

  “So there’s no point in my interrogating you, is there. I’m meant to be forming opi
nions of the various suspects, but you won’t be a suspect, will you?”

  “I should hope not,” Bessie replied.

  “I can’t talk to her, though,” he said, tilting his head towards Vivian, who was sitting to his left. “She can’t remember what her card said or who she’s meant to be.”

  “Oh, dear, that isn’t good,” Bessie said.

  “It happens,” the man shrugged. “Some people get quite caught up in the game and others just sit around and watch, more or less. I don’t know that I’ve ever been to one of these where people didn’t actually have a part or anything, like you’re doing, but I think that’s better than taking a part and then refusing to actually play along.”

  “Perhaps she didn’t realise what she was getting herself into,” Bessie suggested.

  “Yeah, I suppose,” the man said. He finished the last of the wine in his glass and then turned his attention back to his soup. As he loudly slurped up the last of that, Susan clapped her hands together.

  “Two more minutes, I think,” she said. “Everyone has just about finished his or her soup. I hope you’ve all talked to the people around you. If you haven’t spoken to one of your neighbours, now is the time.”

  Bessie sipped her wine and looked up and down the table. A few people were speaking quietly, but most of the guests were looking vaguely uncomfortable behind their empty bowls. The waiters cleared the table before Susan spoke again.

  “Gentlemen, if you could please take your drinks with you and move two seats to your right, I would appreciate it,” she said loudly. “The waiters will be serving the salad course momentarily.”

  “Good evening,” Ernest said as he took George’s place at the head of the table. “I’m meant to be some sort of disreputable rouge, I believe.”

  Bessie grinned as he made a face. “I’m not actually taking part, so you may tell me anything you like and it won’t matter a bit.”

  The man laughed. “It will probably be easier if I just be myself. I’m already finding the whole murder mystery thing confusing.”

  “It does seem rather more complicated than I was expecting,” Bessie replied as the waiter put her salad in front of her.

  “I’m Ernest McCormick,” the man said.

  “I’m Elizabeth Cubbon, but you can call me Bessie; everyone does.”

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Bessie. I assume you are one of Mary’s friends?”

  “Yes, and her neighbour, as well.”

  “You have a mansion on the cliff?”

  Bessie laughed. “No, I have a tiny cottage on the beach, but it isn’t far from here.”

  “I would love to live right on the water. London is shockingly expensive, though. I keep telling my sister that we should buy a cottage in Cornwall or a house in Blackpool or something like that just so we can be on the water.”

  “You could look at buying property on the island,” Bessie suggested.

  “That’s a thought. I’ve never been to the island before, but so far I like what I’ve seen very much. I wouldn’t want anything as extravagant as this, but probably something more than a cottage. Perhaps Elizabeth would let Norma and me stay for a few extra days so that we could do some house-hunting.”

  He took a sip of wine and then turned his attention to Elizabeth, who was on his right. As they began to talk, Bessie turned to the man on her left.

  “Good evening,” she said.

  “Oh, yes, good evening,” he replied.

  “I’m Elizabeth Cubbon, and I’m not playing the murder mystery game, so you don’t have to worry about being in character with me,” she said.

  The man laughed. “I wasn’t all that worried,” he said. “I’m not especially interested in the game. I just came over to get away for a few days.”

  “Away? I hope nothing is wrong at home.”

  “Just working too hard,” the man replied. “I should introduce myself, though, shouldn’t I? I’m Richard Long. I’m one of Elizabeth’s thoroughly unsuitable friends.”

  Bessie chuckled. “She does seem to have rather a lot of friends. I’m surprised how many of them have been willing to come and visit her here on the island, as well. There doesn’t seem to be that much for young people to do here.”

  “I was invited for the murder mystery. She promised it would be fun and exciting, but she also told me I could stay for the weekend. It’s nice to get out of London once in a while.”

  “What do you think of the island so far?”

  “I haven’t seen much. We didn’t arrive until last night, but it looks lovely so far. And Thie yn Traie is stunning.”

  Bessie nodded. “And it has incredible views of the sea.”

  “It does. I could sit and watch the water for hours,” the man agreed.

  “Right, I think we’re about ready to move on,” Susan announced. “I hope everyone is making sure to share a few facts about their characters with everyone else. You never know which facts might be important later.”

  Richard rolled his eyes at Bessie. “I’m meant to be a solicitor, here to help the owner of the country house rewrite his will. Surely that doesn’t give me any motive for killing anyone.”

  Bessie shrugged. “I suppose you’ll have to see who the victim is before you can judge,” she said as waiters cleared empty plates.

  “And now, if the gentlemen could move again, I’d appreciate it,” Susan announced loudly.

  This time there were a few grumbles as the men got to their feet. Elizabeth glanced up and down the table. “Come on, everyone. This is meant to be fun. You all need to get into character and enjoy yourselves.”

  Leonard Hammersmith dropped into the chair at the head of the table and glanced at Bessie. “At least the food is good,” he said loudly.

  “Andy Caine does a brilliant job,” Bessie agreed.

  “Is that who did the food? I should hire him for one of my restaurants.”

  “I didn’t realise you have restaurants.”

  “I do now, but I probably won’t for long,” the man replied. “I was talked into investing in two in Douglas and a third in Castletown, but they’re all losing money hand over fist, really. The biggest problem is getting good help, but I don’t want to bore you with all of that. I’m meant to be telling you all about my character, right?”

  “I’m not actually playing the game,” Bessie said quickly. “You can talk to me about anything you like.”

  “Maybe I’ll just eat,” the man said as his plate was put in front of him.

  Bessie looked down at her own meal and could understand the sentiment. Andy had made chicken in some sort of sauce, with roast potatoes and steamed vegetables. It looked and smelled delicious and Bessie’s mouth began to water as she picked up her knife and fork.

  “I’m Sean Rice,” the man on Bessie’s left said a few minutes later. “I’m one of Elizabeth’s friends from London.”

  Bessie introduced herself and explained that she wasn’t taking part in the game. “I hope you’re enjoying your visit to the island,” she added.

  “It’s okay. A bit quiet, but it’s nice to get away from London once in a while. It’s only for the weekend, anyway. I can put up with anything for a weekend. I go and stay with my father and his fourth wife for that long at least twice a year. If I can get through that, I can get through anything.”

  “Oh, dear,” Bessie exclaimed.

  The man shrugged. “Got to keep Dad happy, that’s the key to staying in the will.”

  Not being sure how best to respond to that, Bessie took another bite of her dinner. The food was excellent, anyway.

  “Liza was talking about having one of these parties at our house later in the year,” Leonard said suddenly.

  “Was she?” Bessie replied.

  “Yeah, that’s why we came. I can’t say I’m overly impressed with what I’ve seen so far, though. It seems like too much fuss and bother. We could just have people around for drinks without everyone having to pretend to be someone else. That would make more sense.�
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  “It’s nice to try different things sometimes,” Bessie said, trying to be diplomatic. She didn’t want to agree outright and possibly lose business for Elizabeth.

  “What was that inspector like, then?” Leonard asked. “He’s meant to solve the murder, isn’t he? Seems like he’s been doing an awful lot of drinking, but maybe that’s part of his character. I mean the character that he’s playing, obviously.”

  Bessie thought that drinking too much was probably very much a part of the man’s character, and not just the one he was playing. “I only just met him briefly,” Bessie replied. “I’m not sure I heard where he used to work.”

  “It must have been London, mustn’t it?”

  “I don’t know. I believe that’s where Susan is from, anyway. She’s the one who found the man.”

  “Maybe sleeping rough outside a bus terminal,” Leonard muttered, looking over at the inspector, who was finishing off yet another glass of wine.

  Bessie did wonder how well the man would do with the pretend murder investigation after all he’d drunk, but that was for Susan and Elizabeth to deal with. Once again she was glad that she wasn’t taking part.

  “Do you think I’d ever have a chance with her?” Sean said suddenly.

  “I’m sorry?” Bessie said.

  “Vivian, the girl in the silver dress. Do you think I have a chance with her?”

  Bessie glanced at Vivian, who was across the table from her. “I haven’t the slightest idea,” she said honestly. “I haven’t even met the girl.”

  “She’s gorgeous, obviously,” Sean sighed. “You’ll think I’m shallow, but that’s all I really want from a girl.”

  Bessie bit her tongue.

  “I understand they’re going to put out the lights so that the murder can take place,” the man said. “Maybe I’ll try talking to her when it’s dark.”

  “You won’t have a chance with her if you don’t talk to her.”

  “I’m usually very confident with women, but she’s something else. I’m sure she must be a model.”