Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9)

by Diana Xarissa

  “Maybe they’ll change their minds about selling if it doesn’t sell soon,” Doona suggested.

  “After everything that happened here, I doubt it very much,” Bessie told her. “If they ever do decide to come back to the island, I would think they’d want to stay somewhere other than Laxey, anyway.”

  Doona nodded. “How are the plans for Thanksgiving going?” she asked.

  “I’m still waiting to hear from a number of people,” Bessie said with a frown. “I’m going to have start chasing some of them, I think.”

  “Well, I’m coming for sure,” Doona said emphatically.

  “I’m counting on that,” Bessie replied.

  A knock on the cottage door interrupted the conversation.

  Chapter Six

  Bessie rushed to let John and Hugh in. They were both carrying boxes full of delicious smelling food.

  “I ran out of time to get something for pudding,” John said apologetically, as he put his box on the counter. “I just brought some vanilla ice cream.”

  “Everyone sit down and get started and I’ll just throw together an apple crumble,” Bessie said.

  “Oh, no, you mustn’t,” John told her.

  “It will take no more than five minutes,” Bessie insisted. “By the time you’ve opened the boxes and filled your plates, I’ll be ready to join you.”

  Hugh gave Bessie a quick hug and then grabbed the peeler from a drawer. While Bessie found what she needed for the crumble, Hugh peeled and sliced several apples. Within a few minutes, the pudding was ready for the oven. John and Doona had the food laid out and their own plates fixed. Hugh insisted that Bessie take what she wanted before he filled his own plate with generous portions. Doona found drinks for everyone and they all sat down together with the delicious smell of warm apples and cinnamon just beginning to fill the air.

  “How is Grace?” Bessie asked Hugh as everyone began to eat.

  “She’s good,” Hugh told her. “And very excited about Thanksgiving.”

  “And how is the new house?” Bessie asked John.

  “It’s just about ready for the kids,” he replied. “I’ve been putting the finishing touches on their bedrooms after work every night and I think they will both be pleased when they see how they came out.”

  “What colours did you choose?” Bessie asked.

  “I let the kids do the choosing,” John said. “Thomas went for a sort of medium blue that should work well as he gets older. Amy decided on a light grey that seems way too grown-up for a twelve-year-old girl’s bedroom, but it matches the bedding she had me buy her and it looks very nice.”

  “You’ll have to invite me over so I can see it all,” Bessie said pointedly.

  John flushed. “I am sorry,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to have a small get-together with friends so you can all see the new house, but I only just finished all of the painting last weekend and I’m still tidying up from that mess.”

  Bessie patted his hand. “You should have invited us all over when you first started and handed us paint cans and brushes,” she told him. “We all would have been happy to help.”

  John smiled at her. “Thank you,” he said. “It never occurred to me to do that, but in a weird way, I’m glad I did it all myself. That house feels like home to me more than any other place I’ve ever lived, at least as an adult.”

  “I did all the painting and decorating here,” Bessie said. “And I know exactly what you mean. Even if I did end up with a much brighter pink in my bedroom than I’d intended.”

  “I love your bedroom,” Doona said. “It’s bright and cheery.”

  “That’s why I’ve never changed it,” Bessie replied. “And it reminds me of when I was much younger and somewhat more girly as well.”

  “Once we get this current case sorted out, I’ll have you all over,” John promised.

  “Except then some other case will come up and you’ll get swamped again,” Bessie retorted. “Don’t wait; invite us around soon.”

  John laughed. “Okay, okay, you win. I’ll have you over later this week or early next week. Just give me a day or two to hide all of the painting supplies.”

  “So what’s going on with the case?” Bessie asked after she’d cleared away the dishes. The crumble wasn’t quite ready, but she put the kettle on to make tea to go with it.

  “I’ve been in touch with Jacob’s sister, Jane,” John told her. “She’s coming over to the island if the body is positively identified as Jacob.”

  “What’s she like?” Bessie asked.

  “She was quite, um, that is, you have to make allowances, under the circumstances,” John said. “She seemed quite upset.”

  “I gather, therefore, that she hasn’t had any contact with her brother since he was meant to have left the island,” Bessie said.

  “Jane released a statement to the island’s press this afternoon. It should be in the papers tomorrow, so I can tell you that she hasn’t heard from her brother since before the time he was known to have been here.”

  “That’s interesting,” Bessie replied.

  “What’s even more interesting is that she didn’t even know Jacob was on the island,” John said.

  Bessie and Dooona both gasped. The oven timer interrupted the dozen questions Bessie wanted to ask.

  “I’ll get that,” Hugh said. He jumped up and switched off the timer. Then he carefully took the apple crumble out of the oven. While Bessie asked questions, Hugh served everyone generous portions of crumble and ice cream.

  “Where did she think he’d gone?” Bessie asked.

  “Apparently he left home intending to travel to Liverpool,” John told her. “The last letter they had from him mentioned having a week in Anglesey and then moving on to parts of Wales. She had no idea that he’d actually gone from Liverpool to the island.”

  “So if the family did file a missing person report, they filed it in the wrong place,” Bessie said thoughtfully.

  “They did file one. Actually, they reported him missing several times in several different locations. I’ve requested copies of the police reports from a number of places across. I can’t imagine there will be anything helpful in them, but they’re a place to start.”

  “What else did she tell you?” Bessie asked.

  “She’s convinced that the watch proves it’s her brother,” John said. “She’s positive that it’s that unique and that he would never have parted with it.”

  “So she’s coming over once the body is positively identified,” Bessie said.

  “She is, and I expect she might want to meet you. She said she’s eager to talk to anyone who remembers her brother.”

  Bessie nodded. “Of course, I’d be happy to meet her,” she said.

  “This is delicious,” Doona interrupted. “I can’t believe you threw it together that quickly.”

  “Hugh was a big help,” Bessie replied. She glanced down at her plate and was surprised to find that she’d nearly finished her large serving. She’d been so caught up in the conversation that she’d forgotten to taste it. Now she focussed on enjoying her last three bites. “It is really good,” she said when she’d cleared her plate.

  “You mean it was really good,” Doona laughed.

  Hugh insisted on clearing up while Bessie and John talked. Doona gave Hugh a hand with the washing-up.

  “So, let’s see this list,” John suggested.

  Bessie handed him the sheet of paper with her notes. “I’ve given you as much information as I have about each of them,” she told the man. “The first dozen were in my diary as having been seen with Jacob. The other six are women who were about the right age and might have gone out with the man, but I don’t know that for sure.”

  John read down the list. “Some of these women have rung the office to identify the watch,” he told Bessie. “I suppose we’ll have to try to find them all and see what they can tell us.”

  “It seems an almost impossible job,” Bessie remarked. “It was such a long
time ago.”

  “I don’t suppose we can find a way to link this to Grant Robertson?” Doona asked. “He’s already wanted for murder and a bunch of other things.”

  “I don’t remember any connection between Jacob and Grant,” Bessie told her. “Though I suppose anything is possible.”

  “At this point, I’m not ruling anything out,” John said. “We aren’t even certain that it’s Jacob that we’ve found, after all. While we’re waiting for the body to be formally identified, I’ll be doing everything I can to find out what happened to Jacob Conover. If it isn’t him we’ve found, I’d certainly like to ask him a few questions.”

  John went through Bessie’s list with her name by name. He occasionally added to the notes she’d provided, and then he summarised everything.

  “You’ve given me eighteen names altogether,” he began. “Seven of the women are still on the island, although only two are in Laxey, counting Fenella Faragher. There isn’t much I can do with the four who are deceased. At this stage, at least, I’ll cross them off. We may need to talk to their families later in the investigation, but I’m hoping not to.”

  “I doubt they’d be much help,” Bessie said. “I can’t believe any of the women involved told their families anything about a man they once went out with very briefly.”

  “You’re probably right,” John said. “Let’s hope we solve the case before we get desperate enough to try asking them.”

  “What about the ones who’ve moved across?” Bessie asked. “I’ve given you all of the information I have about them, but I’m pretty sure most of them still have family here who could help you track them down.”

  John nodded. “We’ll have to have someone talk to as many of them as possible,” he said. “Unless we get a lucky break in the next few days.”

  “And there are two that I can’t tell you anything more about,” Bessie said. “Anna Long and her family came over from somewhere in the Lake District and they only lived in Laxey for six months, as far as I remember. I didn’t really get to know them at all and I only really remember them because I made a note in my diary that Anna and Karen Corlett got into a shouting match about Jacob in the middle of the market. Anna and her family moved not long after that, and I’m certain they left the island, but I’ve no idea where they went.”

  “And Susan Black?” John asked, reading the name off Bessie’s list.

  “Her parents were missionaries. They came to the island for a short holiday that summer and then left again for some third-world country. I noted in my diary that I was surprised to see Susan having dinner with Jacob, as I didn’t think her parents would approve of him.”

  “But did they disapprove so much that they killed him and hid the body at the Clague farm?” Hugh asked.

  “I highly doubt it,” John said.

  “I can’t imagine,” Bessie added. “They were incredibly devout and dedicated people. Anyway, I can’t believe they’d have had any motive.”

  “Perhaps Jacob broke Susan’s heart,” Doona suggested.

  “Even if he did, murder is a huge leap,” Bessie replied. “And I can’t believe that she did more than go out with him once or twice. Surely that isn’t enough to break anyone’s heart.”

  “If she’d been sheltered by her parents, maybe,” Doona said. “He might have been her first boyfriend.”

  Bessie shrugged. “Anything’s possible,” she muttered.

  “But that’s a good point,” Hugh said. “We always talk about means, motive and opportunity. At this point, we have no idea how he died, so we can’t really talk about means. As for opportunity, I suppose we’ll have to assume anyone who was on the island at the time had opportunity, at least as a working hypothesis. That leaves motive. What possible motive was there for killing a man who was moving away?”

  After he’d finished speaking, Hugh sat back down. All four friends looked around the table at one another. Bessie finally broke the prolonged silence.

  “Either it was something to do with his attempts to buy a farm or to do with his womanizing,” she surmised. “Although I can’t really see any motive in either of those.”

  “What could his wanting to buy a farm have to do with his getting killed?” Doona asked.

  “I don’t know,” Bessie said after another long silence. “But I can’t see why his going out with so many women would be a motive either, unless some woman was so upset when he broke up with her that she decided to kill him.”

  “Or someone’s father or former boyfriend wanted to be rid of him,” Doona said.

  “He was leaving,” Bessie reminded her.

  “And he wasn’t leaving anyone, um, in a family way?” John asked.

  Bessie shook her head. “In spite of all the talk about him, I never heard worse than he was seeing too many women. No one suggested that he was taking the women to bed. Certainly none of the young women involved had an illegitimate child the next year.”

  “With the possible exception of Susan Black or Anna Long,” John interjected.

  “Well, yes, I suppose so,” Bessie agreed.

  “Of course, he might have been killed for some other reason that hasn’t occurred to us yet,” Hugh said. “Maybe he was involved in something criminal that got him murdered, or maybe he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and he saw or heard something he shouldn’t have.”

  “Or maybe he died accidently and someone just hid the body,” Bessie added.

  “All possibilities, especially at this early stage in the investigation,” John said. “And on that note, I think I’d better get home and get some sleep. I have an awful lot of work piling up for tomorrow.”

  Bessie walked her guests to the door. Hugh and John both waved as they climbed into their cars and drove away.

  “Are you okay?” Bessie asked Doona as she gave her a hug.

  “I’m fine, just a little nervous about Friday,” Doona told her. “Tonight was nice, almost like old times.”

  “It was nice, even if the subject was unpleasant,” Bessie replied.

  “At least whatever happened took place a long time ago,” Doona said.

  “And someone has been thinking that they got away with it for a long time,” Bessie added.

  Doona frowned. “I really do hope, if it was murder, that the killer moved away after it happened. I’d hate to think he or she is still around.”

  Bessie locked the door behind her friend and then double-checked that the other door was secure. Tomorrow she’d talk to Bahey. Maybe Bahey would be able to suggest a motive they hadn’t considered yet.

  Thursday was wet and windy, and the next morning Bessie stood in her doorway watching the rain for several minutes. Finally, sighing deeply, she pulled on her waterproofs and her Wellington boots and headed out for her morning walk. She walked only as far as the holiday cottages, waved to Thomas Shimmin, who was hard at work painting one of them, and then turned for home. An extra cup of tea and a slice of toast, thick with strawberry jam, cheered her up after she’d dried off. Her taxi was due at half eleven, so Bessie settled in with a book for the morning. When the knock came on her door, she was startled. A quick glance at the clock told her that she’d completely lost track of time.

  Dave, her favourite driver from her regular service, gave her a bright smile when she opened her door. He was standing under a huge umbrella. “Did I get the time wrong?” he asked.

  Bessie smiled at the question. She’d opened the door in her bare feet, not looking at all as if she had a lunch appointment in only half an hour. “I lost myself in a book,” she told the man. “Please come in and give me a minute to get ready.”

  With Dave waiting in the kitchen, Bessie rushed up the stairs to change into something more suitable than her casual attire. She ran a comb through her hair and applied a quick coat of lipstick. A glance in the mirror told her that she looked pretty much the same as always. That would have to be good enough, she thought as she hurried back down the stairs.

  Dave smiled at
her. “Now you look ready to go out,” he said. Bessie grabbed her handbag and followed Dave out of the cottage. He held his umbrella over her head as she locked her door. After tucking her into the passenger seat, Dave was quick to climb behind the wheel.

  “Douglas, right?” he checked.

  “Yes, I’m having lunch with my friend who lives on Seaview Terrace,” Bessie told him.

  They chatted about nothing much on the journey into Douglas. When Dave pulled up in front of Bahey’s block of flats, he parked the car. “I’ll just walk you to the door,” he said. He had the large umbrella open and was at the passenger door before Bessie could object.

  “Thank you so much,” Bessie said as she pressed the buzzer for Bahey’s flat. The lock on the door clicked open and Bessie pushed the door. Inside, she turned back to thank Dave again.

  “Make sure you bill me for all of your time,” she told him. “I made you wait at my cottage and now you’ve walked me to the door as well.”

  “Ah, I almost forgot, I’m so sorry the wife and I can’t make it to your dinner on Saturday,” he said. “I’m sure she rang and told you, but I wanted to thank you myself for including us.”

  “I’m sorry you can’t make it,” Bessie replied. “It should be a nice afternoon.”

  “No doubt,” Dave said. “But we always go across for a short holiday in late November. It’s my wife’s sister’s birthday, you see, and we always go over and take her out for a meal.”

  “That’s lovely,” Bessie said. “I hope you have a wonderful time.”

  “Ring for me when you’re ready for home,” Dave told her.

  “I will,” Bessie promised.

  She walked past the desk where the manager was sitting. The man was a stranger to Bessie. He glanced up from his magazine and then went back to it, ignoring Bessie. She shrugged and headed for the lift.

  Before it arrived, the door to the section of ground floor flats opened and two of her former neighbours walked out.

  “Ah, Elizabeth Cubbon, what a wonderful surprise.” Simon O’Malley smiled his dazzling smile at her.