“Everyone and no one,” Bessie said with a sigh. “I remember that he went out with a lot of women, but I’m not sure I could put names to any of them now. I suppose, if I really work at it, I can come up with some names, but as I said, he didn’t stay with anyone for long. I don’t recall hearing that anything serious ever developed between him and anyone on the island.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d try to make a list for me,” John said. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to identify the body before I start going through it.”
“It was so long ago, I can’t imagine it will help, but I’ll try.”
“It was a long time ago,” John agreed. “But someone killed the man and hid the body. Somewhere, forty or so years ago, someone felt strongly enough about him enough to kill him. My job it find out who that was and why.”
“Whoever it was could be long dead themselves,” Bessie pointed out. “Or they could have moved away.”
“I just have to do my best,” John replied.
“And, of course, Niall should be the first person you question, but he’s not going to be any help.”
“Anna went and talked to him today,” John told her. “He wasn’t very lucid.”
“What about Eoin and Fenella?” Bessie asked.
“Neither of them recognised the watch,” John told her. “I didn’t specifically ask about Jacob Conover, because we aren’t sure it’s him. Neither of them could offer any explanation for why there was a dead body in the barn, either.”
“Poor Fenella, it must be very upsetting for her,” Bessie said.
“Thank you for your time,” John said now. “I think I’d better go and let you get some sleep. Let me know when you’ve had time to put that list together for me.”
Bessie nodded. “I’ll go back through my diaries and see if I can find anything relevant.”
“That would be a great help,” John said.
“I’m not sure I have any from the right time period, but I’ll see what I can find,” Bessie promised.
She walked him to the door and locked it behind him. Mechanically, she cleared up the tea things and did the washing up. It was only as she climbed the stairs to bed that she realised she’d never offered the poor man any biscuits to go with his tea. Clearly, she was more upset than she’d realised.
Bessie’s sleep was restless and she woke at six feeling tired and anxious. Going through her old diaries was an emotional job and she didn’t quite feel up to it. A long walk on a cold and rainy beach did little to improve her mood. Pancakes with maple syrup, a reminder of her childhood in the US, washed down with milky tea, helped calm her.
Before she went in search of her diaries, she sat down to start the list of women whom she could recall had gone out with Jacob Conover. After listing a few names, she gave up. She’d start with the diaries and make the list from them, assuming they were any help.
Upstairs, she found the box that was full of diaries. It only took a few minutes to locate the book that started in June 1951. She skimmed through it shaking her head at her younger self. She found herself wondering why she’d ever bother to write down so much of the minutiae of her life. Still, if anyone ever wanted to know what she’d had for lunch on the 23rd of October 1952, she’d be able to tell them that she’d had a chicken sandwich.
She’d reached the 10th of May 1956 before she found what she was looking for.
Margaret Hayes has taken in a lodger. Apparently the young man, Jacob Conover, had been staying in Douglas, but he’s decided to buy a farm in Laxey, so he’s moved up here to consider his options. I saw him at the market this afternoon. I suppose he’s attractive, but he’s very arrogant and he was flirting with half a dozen girls who were hanging on his every word.
Bessie smiled as she thought about the daily market that used to take place in Laxey in the fifties and sixties. The farmers, or more typically their wives or daughters, would bring fresh fruit and vegetables, and the market became a sort of central meeting place for the residents of the village. She closed her eyes and recalled many long hours spent there, catching up with news from around the village. She turned to the next page, but there was nothing about the new arrival the next day.
A week later, though, she found him again.
Jacob Conover is working his way around the area, trying to persuade farmers to sell their property to him. He’s also working his way through their daughters, it seems. Margaret Hayes told me that he’s out every night with a different young lady and several have been hanging around her house in a most shameful fashion.
Of course, young ladies didn’t chase after young men in those days, Bessie reflected. Things had certainly changed since then, although Bessie still thought that women should have better things to do than chase after men. A few days later she found Jacob mentioned again
I ran into Bahey Corlett in Ramsey today. She’s back on the island with the Pierce family, who are holidaying here as they do every summer. She’s ever so worried about her cousin, Karen. Apparently Karen has fallen quite hard for that Jacob Conover. I told Bahey everything I know about the man, which isn’t much. Karen’s only seventeen and last week her father caught her sneaking out to meet Jacob somewhere. I told Bahey that, from what I’ve heard, the man will probably soon move on to someone else.
Bessie sat back in her chair. Karen Corlett had been a very beautiful young girl, she remembered. When Karen had left school, she’d spent some time with Bahey, staying at the Pierce mansion across. Bessie had a vague recollection of hearing that she’d married very well and settled in London. She made a note to ring Bahey when she’d finished looking through her diaries and moved on.
An hour later, Bessie had a list of an even dozen women whom she’d seen with Jacob or been told were involved with him during his time on the island. Of that number, four were definitely still on the island, three were living across, three had passed away, and she wasn’t sure about the final two. Fenella’s name wasn’t on the list, but that didn’t mean much. She would have been eighteen that summer and she’d been very pretty in her youth. It was highly likely that she’d have attracted Jacob’s attention, even if they’d not been seen together enough to stir up gossip.
Bessie read her entry for the 23rd of September that same year.
It seems Jacob Conover has given up on buying a farm on the island. There was something of a party for him last night at the pub. He’s going back across to farm in Cumbria, or some such thing. The young women of the village are, I gather, nearly inconsolable. I must say, when I met him, I found him far too fond of himself and his wealth, but apparently that is quite attractive to the young women in Laxey.
Bessie flipped through the rest of that diary, but the man wasn’t mentioned again. She sat back in her chair and let her mind wander. For several minutes, she thought about young, handsome, brash Jacob Conover and the women who’d been so flattered by his attention. With a sigh, she put her diaries back into their box and returned the box to the spare room. She’d ring John after lunch with her list and he could decide what to do with it. Of course, he wasn’t in the office when she rang.
“I can put you through to Anna,” Joan suggested.
Bessie bit back a sigh. She had been hoping for a few words with Doona, but had reached Joan instead. And now John wasn’t available either. “Just have John ring me, please,” Bessie replied.
She was eager to ring Bahey and ask her about her cousin, Karen, but she didn’t want to do that without checking with John first. Curling up with a new book about Catherine the Great of Russia, Bessie soon found herself caught up in court intrigues and political upheaval. She was startled when her phone rang several hours later.
“Bessie? I’m sorry I didn’t ring you back sooner. It’s been a busy day,” John told her.
“I’ve been through my diaries,” Bessie replied. “I have a list of women who I’m reasonably certain spent time with Jacob Conover when he was here. I could probably add half a dozen others that he probably at least asked
out, as well. Fenella Faragher would fall into that category.”
“I’ll stop by this evening around seven to go over the list with you, if I may,” John said. “I’ll bring Chinese food and something for pudding.”
“What about Doona and Hugh?” Bessie asked.
John hesitated for a moment. “Sure,” he said eventually. “Why not?”
There were a few hours to wait before Bessie’s guests would arrive. She’d lost interest in Russian history for the moment, so Bessie sat down with her lists and copied them neatly, making notes about each woman where she could. She was about half-finished with the project when the phone rang.
“Bessie? It’s Bahey Corlett. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Oh, I’m doing well,” Bahey told her. “Howard and I are so looking forward to your Thanksgiving feast next week. After that, we’re heading across to spend some time with his daughter and the grandbaby, which will be wonderful.”
After working for the Pierce family her entire life, Bahey had retired some years ago. She’d never dated in her youth and she and Bessie had both been surprised when she’d met her attractive neighbour, Howard Mayer, and begun a relationship. The pair had been together for several months now and Bessie wondered sometimes if Howard might be thinking of proposing at some point in the near future.
“That will be nice for you all,” Bessie said. “It will be the baby’s first Christmas. Are you going to be staying that long?”
“We’re only going for a week this time,” Bahey replied. “But then we’re going back over in the middle of December and staying through the new year.”
“How fun,” Bessie said.
“Yes, well, Carla didn’t really like it when her father started spending time with me, but she’s come around. It might just be because I’m a big help with the baby, having been a nanny to the Pierce boys, but whatever the reason, she seems as happy as we are that we’re coming.”
“I’m sure you’re a huge help,” Bessie said. Bahey had always been a very hard worker, even if she was somewhat inclined to complain. Actually, she’d been much happier since she’d met Howard, and aside from some concerns about strange happenings in her building of flats, Bessie had heard far fewer complaints from the woman when they’d spoken recently.
“But I didn’t ring to talk about that,” Bahey said. “I saw the photograph in yesterday’s paper and it brought back a lot of bad memories. I’m sure you know exactly what I mean.”
“Which photograph?” Bessie asked, not wanting to start the wrong conversation.
“That watch of Jacob Conover’s,” Bahey answered, spitting the name out bitterly.
“I did see that picture,” Bessie said. “I hope you rang the police to tell them you recognised it.”
“Oh, aye, I rang Inspector Corkill and he came and took a bunch of notes,” Bahey replied.
Inspector Peter Corkill was head of the Douglas branch of the CID. He and Bessie had met over a dead body and had taken some time to come to appreciate one another. Now they’d become something like friends and Bessie had included him in the Thanksgiving invitations as well.
“I don’t really remember much about Jacob Conover,” Bessie said.
“I remember him all too well,” Bahey answered. “And I’m sure poor Karen does, as well.”
“I did recall that your cousin Karen went out with him for a while,” Bessie said. “But she’s happily married and living in London, isn’t she?”
“She is, but she had her heart well and truly broken by that man, and I won’t forgive him for it.”
“It looks as if someone murdered him,” Bessie said quietly.
“Probably the father of one of his victims,” Bahey said sharply.
“Would you like to suggest a likely candidate?” Bessie asked.
“I could probably come up with a few. Why don’t you meet me for lunch tomorrow and we’ll talk?” she suggested.
“I’d like that,” Bessie said.
“I’ll invite Joney,” Bahey added. “You haven’t seen her in a while, have you?”
“I haven’t,” Bessie replied. “And I’d really like to. She might be able to add to your list of suspects, as well.”
“She might,” Bahey said. “Although she was already in Foxdale when that man came over.”
“Well, I’ll enjoying spending time with you and your sister, either way,” Bessie said. “I’ll be there at midday and I’ll bring pudding.”
“No, no, let me bake,” Bahey said. “Howard and I are both watching what we eat at the moment. We’ve both gained weight since we’ve been together. Let me bake something nice for our luncheon. I’ll enjoy having an excuse to make something and then eat it.”
Bessie laughed. “If you insist,” she said.
After she’d hung up, Bessie went back to her list. There were a handful of women about whom she was uncertain as to their current whereabouts. She reached for the phone and then stopped herself. While she could ring around and track some of them down, that job might be best left for the police. If John asked for her help, she’d be more than happy to provide it, but after her call from Bahey, it was clear that at least some people on the island had far from pleasant memories of Jacob Conover. Perhaps it would be best if Bessie didn’t stir those up unnecessarily.
She sighed and walked slowly through her cottage. Reading didn’t appeal and she was just thinking about baking something when someone knocked on her door.
“Doona, I wasn’t expecting you until closer to seven,” she exclaimed when she opened the door.
“I was just sitting around my house, feeling bored and restless,” Doona told her. “I thought I’d come over early and let you entertain me.”
Bessie laughed. “I was just feeling rather the same way,” she confided to her friend. “I’m ever so glad you’re here.”
The friends hugged and then Bessie led Doona into her sitting room. “If I fix tea now, we’ll just start eating biscuits and ruin our dinner,” she said. “Let’s sit in here instead and just chat.”
“What should we talk about?” Doona asked after she’d settled into a comfortable chair.
“How was work today?” Bessie asked.
Doona wrinkled her nose. “It was pretty busy,” she said. “Joan was back to help, but I still feel as if I spent nearly the whole day on the phone.”
“Are you still getting rung by people who think they’ve recognised the watch?”
“Yes, although it seems as if everyone is giving us the same name now, at least.”
“Jacob Conover,” Bessie said.
“That’s the one,” Doona agreed. “Did you know him?”
“I wouldn’t say that I knew him,” Bessie said slowly. “I’d certainly met him, but only once or twice.”
“I really don’t want to talk about work,” Doona said with a sigh. “John is being, well, distant. The phones won’t stop ringing and I don’t think Joan likes me.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not the case,” Bessie said in a reassuring voice. “How could anyone not like you? Just give her some time to warm up, that’s all.”
“I’m hoping she won’t be here much longer,” Doona said. “I miss having my desk all to myself.”
Bessie nodded sympathetically. “I’m sure things will quiet down soon.”
“They were quieter by this afternoon,” Doona admitted. “I think John will probably send Joan back to Castletown tomorrow, unless something else comes up.”
“Are you all ready to see your solicitor on Friday?” Bessie changed the subject.
“I suppose so. We’re meeting in Doncan’s office so that he can make sure everything is being done right,” Doona told her. “The police investigation into Charles’s company is still ongoing, but Doncan seems to think that some money should be coming my way very soon.”
Doona’s second husband, Charles Adams had recently been murdered. Bessie had been surprised to learn, during the course of the investigat
ion into his death, that he and Doona were still married. The only good thing to come out of the whole incident was the news that Charles had named Doona as his heir. Now Bessie was hoping that her closest friend was in line for a small fortune.
“That is good news,” Bessie exclaimed.
“I’m waiting to see how much I get before I get too excited,” Doona commented. “I suppose even a few hundred pounds will help pay for Christmas, and if it’s much more, maybe I can pay down my mortgage with some of it.”
“I’m glad you changed your mind about keeping the money,” Bessie said. When Charles had first been killed, Doona had insisted that she didn’t want anything from him.
“After everything he put me through, I suppose I should get something,” Doona said. “I still feel uncomfortable about accepting it, but if I don’t, all of the money goes to his cousin in New Zealand. Charles never even met the man, so I suppose I deserve it more than he does.”
“Of course you do,” Bessie said firmly. “We just have to hope that it turns out to be a huge fortune.”
Doona shook her head. “I wouldn’t know what to do with a huge fortune,” she said. “I’d be over the moon if I got enough to pay off my mortgage and have a holiday somewhere.”
“And maybe a new car?” Bessie suggested.
“Oh, that would be nice,” Doona agreed. “Something little and cute and sporty would be great, rather than the sensible sedan I have now.”
“And some new clothes?”
Doona laughed. “I think you’re having fun spending my imaginary funds.”
Bessie laughed with her. “You’re right,” she said. “Spending your money is great fun. I think you should buy Thie yn Traie and then we could be neighbours.”
“I can’t imagine Charles was worth as much as that,” Doona told her. “Thie yn Traie must be on the market for many hundreds of thousands of pounds.”
“I just wish someone would buy it,” Bessie said. “It’s so sad seeing it sitting empty.”
“It was empty most of the time anyway, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, I know it was, but it didn’t feel empty when I knew the Pierce family would be back soon. Mr. and Mrs. Pierce loved the island.”
Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9) Page 8
