“But someone hid the body,” Hugh said. “That seems like murder to me.”
John nodded. “We’re investigating it as murder, at least until we hear otherwise,” he said.
“Have you made any progress on identifying the body?” Bessie asked.
John shook his head. “We’re still waiting on the DNA tests. Because of the very distinctive watch, we suspect that the body is Jacob Conover’s, but we can’t be sure, of course.”
“He still hasn’t turned up alive anywhere, then?” Bessie wondered.
“No. He’s been listed as a missing person in Liverpool and London for forty-odd years,” John replied. “His sister is pretty certain it must be him.”
“That poor woman,” Doona said. “Imagine not knowing where your brother was for all that time.”
“She’s coming over to the island if it does turn out to be him,” John said. “She’s mentioned wanting to meet anyone who might remember him.”
Bessie nodded. “I’d be happy to talk to her,” she said. “I didn’t know him well, but I do remember him.”
“I’m sure she’d appreciate that,” John told her.
“So where are we with means and motive and opportunity?” Hugh asked.
“Nowhere,” John said glumly. “It was such a long time ago, we’re struggling to come up with any of those things for anyone.”
“I’m sure several young ladies were quite upset with how they were treated, but I can’t see any of them resorting to murder,” Bessie said. “And I can’t get past the fact that the man was leaving. Why would anyone kill him if he was leaving anyway?”
“That’s a very good question,” John said. “Anna has suggested that maybe he was just telling people he was leaving, but he was really just moving to another part of the island or something.”
“To do what?” Bessie demanded. “He was supposed to be looking for a farm to buy. If he wanted to look elsewhere in the island, surely he wouldn’t be doing it in secret?”
“What about jealous boyfriends?” Hugh asked. “If he went out with just about every single young woman in Laxey, that must have upset a few of the young men.”
“We’re checking on that as much as we can,” John said. “But it was a long time ago. Many of the men and women we’ve spoken to don’t seem to remember much from that summer.”
“I think we should focus on finding his connection with the Clague farm,” Bessie said thoughtfully. “Why was he buried there?”
“No one I’ve talked to can give me any reason why he was there,” John said, sounding frustrated. “If only we could talk to Niall.”
“I thought Anna was going to try,” Bessie said.
“She did,” John said. “He told her all about Christmas in the nineteen-thirties, but couldn’t remember her name from one minute to the next.”
Bessie sighed. “I was thinking about going to see him,” she said.
John looked at her for a minute and then sighed. Before he could speak, Doona started collecting the dishes.
“We should have cake,” she said brightly.
Hugh got up and opened the bakery box. The cake inside was beautifully decorated.
“It seems a shame to eat it,” Bessie said as she stared at the treat.
“It would be a bigger shame to throw it away,” Hugh said logically.
John handed him a stack of small plates and a knife and Hugh cut very generous slices from the cake. The group fell silent again as they enjoyed their pudding.
“That was fabulous,” Doona said as she scraped up her last bite.
“It was really good,” Bessie agreed.
“At least now I know where to get the cakes for my kids’ birthdays,” John said with a grin.
“Where were we?” Bessie asked as she helped Doona tidy up.
“We were talking about Niall,” Doona told her. “And how frustrating it is that he’s, um, not able to help more.”
“Could he have murdered Jacob Conover?” Hugh asked the question that everyone else was thinking.
Bessie sighed. “I’d like to be able to say no,” she said sadly. “But I simply don’t know. I can’t say I ever knew him especially well. He kept to himself, and the farm and raising Fenella kept him very busy, anyway. I think he’d have needed a very strong motive, but he may have had one; I just don’t know what it was.”
“Maybe Jacob was annoying Fenella,” Doona suggested.
Bessie frowned. “Both she and Eoin claim they don’t remember him,” she said. “But I don’t believe them. Fenella must have met him, at least once or twice. She used to come into town to the market every week and he used to spend a lot of time there, talking with all of the girls.”
“Why would she lie?” Doona asked.
“The only thing I can think is that she suspects that her father had something to do with the man’s death,” Bessie replied. “Maybe she’s trying to protect him.”
“Him or Eoin?” Hugh asked.
Bessie shrugged. “I suspect she’d lie for both of them,” she said.
“They have to be close to the top of the suspect list,” Hugh said. “If only because the body was found on their farm.”
“Is there anyone else on the list at all?” Bessie asked. “I mean, I can’t imagine anyone else being able to hide the body there without getting caught.”
“We’re trying to track down as many of the farm’s former farmhands as we can,” John said. “Many of them were just casual labour who only worked on the farm for a season or so and then moved on. It’s possible, maybe even probable, that one of them had a fight with Jacob Conover and killed him. Whether he could have hidden the body in that barn without Niall knowing about it is another question, but for now we’re focussing on one thing at a time.”
“Anna was at the farm asking Fenella for any information she had for anyone who’d ever worked for them,” Bessie said. “I got the feeling Fenella hadn’t kept track of many of them.”
“No, when I spoke to Anna this afternoon she said she’d only been able to get about a dozen names from Fenella,” John said.
“Were any of them on the island in the right year?” Bessie asked.
John shrugged. “Anna’s going through the list. Fenella couldn’t be sure of exactly when any of them were here, apparently.”
“I suppose it’s a waste of time talking about means,” Hugh said.
“From what I understand, he must have died the night of his leaving party,” Bessie said. “He was supposed to take the ferry the next morning. It never crossed my mind to question whether he made it on board or not.”
“The killer was lucky there,” John said. “I’ve spoken to several people who were at that party, and no one seems to recall who Jacob left with or where he said he was going. The woman he was rooming with passed away many years ago, so we can’t ask her if he ever came back for his belongings.”
“That’s a point,” Bessie said. “Someone must have gone and taken them or Margaret would have said something.”
“We’re trying to track his things down and also find out what happened to his car,” John said.
“I’d forgotten about that car,” Bessie exclaimed. “It was a nice one. Much nicer than most of the people around here could afford. I wonder what ever happened to it.”
“So do we,” John said.
“I seem to remember him selling it to someone in Douglas a short time before he was supposed to leave,” Bessie said, struggling to remember. “I’m not sure, though.”
They talked in circles for several more minutes, but no one seemed to be able to add anything useful to the discussion. Bessie found herself yawning for the third time.
“I think it’s time to call it a night,” she said reluctantly. “As much as I’m enjoying the company and the conversation.”
“Doona, I’ll take Bessie home. I know you have to be in early tomorrow,” John said.
“Are you sure?” Doona asked.
“I don’t have to be in until ten,
” he told her. “But I saw you were on the schedule at seven.”
Doona nodded. “That’s because Anna hates me,” she said.
John shook his head. “She doesn’t hate you,” he said. “She just likes to rotate the shifts around. That way no one has to be in at seven every day.”
“But Karen likes working at seven,” Doona protested. “And now Anna has us all bouncing around and we can never remember when we’re meant to be working.”
“We’re going to have a staff meeting next week,” John said. “Everyone will be able to raise their concerns at that time.”
Doona looked like she wanted to say something, but she snapped her mouth shut and got up from the table.
“Thank you for hosting us tonight,” she said to John. “And thank you for dinner,” she told Hugh. She gave Bessie a hug and then all four of them walked towards the front door.
“We never got our tour,” Bessie exclaimed.
“Go and have a quick look, then,” John told her. “I’ll wait here.”
Bessie and Doona walked through the house quickly, opening and closing doors as they went. Bessie felt quite self-conscious as she peeked into the bedrooms and bathrooms.
“It’s lovely,” she told John a few minutes later, handing him the can of furniture polish she’d found on the dining room table.
“The colours all work very well together,” Doona said. “And it looks like it will be a comfortable home for you and your children.”
John held the door for Doona and Hugh and then he and Bessie followed them out. John’s car was behind Doona’s and he helped Bessie into the passenger seat. The pair was silent on the short drive back to Bessie’s cottage.
“Thank you for the ride,” Bessie said as John pulled to a stop outside her door.
“I’ll just come in and check that everything is okay,” John told her.
Bessie bit back a frustrated sigh. She hated when her friends fussed over her, but she knew they were only doing it because they cared. After she unlocked her door, she let John take the lead. She checked her answering machine and did a few little jobs around the kitchen while she listened to John stomping around the cottage.
“It was good to see you,” he said to Bessie when he returned to the kitchen.
“It was wonderful to see you,” Bessie replied, giving him a hug. “Your new house is just about perfect. I’m sure the kids will love it.”
John smiled and headed for the door. Before he opened it he stopped and turned to Bessie, a frown on his face. “Anna isn’t happy with you,” he said hesitatingly. “She thinks you’re interfering with her investigation.”
“I am not,” Bessie replied angrily.
“I know,” John told her. “And I told her you can be a hugely valuable resource as well, but she doesn’t work that way. I think you’d be wise to try to stay out of her way.”
“I’m not quite sure how I’m meant to do that,” Bessie said tartly. “It isn’t as if she tells me what she’s going to do next.”
John flushed. “I just, that is, well, maybe you should stay away from the Clague farm for a while, and from anyone connected to it.”
“You don’t want me to go and see Niall,” Bessie said.
“I don’t mind if you go and see Niall,” John countered. “But Anna doesn’t think you should.”
“Are you telling me I can’t go and see him?” Bessie demanded.
“No,” John said in a tired voice. “You can do whatever you like, just be prepared for Anna to dislike it.”
“I’m not sure I care what Anna thinks,” Bessie said.
John nodded. “I just don’t want you to make an enemy of her,” he said.
Chapter Ten
John’s words seemed to stay in Bessie’s head all through the night. As she walked on the beach the next morning, she tried to think. She didn’t want to anger Anna Lambert, but she wanted to see Niall and ask him about Jacob. As far as she could tell, there was no way to visit him without upsetting Anna.
Back at her cottage, she paced in circles around her sitting room. What she needed was a very good reason to visit Niall, one that had nothing to do with the dead man. Her phone interrupted her thoughts.
“Bessie, it’s Doncan,” Bessie’s advocate’s voice came down the line. “I was just ringing to tell you how sorry I am, but the painting went for more than your top bid.”
Bessie sighed. “I didn’t really think I’d win it,” she replied, swallowing her disappointment. “It really is a beautiful painting. I hope it’s going to a good home.”
“I’m not sure where it’s going,” Doncan told her. “The winner had submitted a sealed bid, like you did, and chose to remain anonymous.”
“Well, never mind,” Bessie said. “Maybe I’ll see it somewhere one day.”
“Maybe,” Doncan laughed.
“Anyway, I’ll see you on Saturday,” Bessie told him.
“You will indeed,” Doncan replied.
Bessie sat down and thought for a moment. She’d invited Niall to her Thanksgiving feast once, many years earlier. He’d laughed and told her that farming was a full-time job and that he couldn’t take a whole afternoon out to sit around eating and drinking. Bessie could remember the conversation like it had been yesterday.
“Ask me again when I’ve retired,” he’d laughed.
“I will,” Bessie had promised.
“And now I shall keep that promise,” Bessie said loudly. Anna Lambert probably wouldn’t think that was a very good excuse for visiting the man, but Bessie decided she didn’t care. Now that she’d thought of it, she was eager to invite Niall to her dinner. There was no way he’d be able to attend, given his health, but she owed him the invitation.
She rang her taxi service and booked a car to take her to Douglas in the afternoon. Her morning was spent with a good book. After a light lunch, she waited impatiently for her taxi. Seeing Mark Stone, her least favourite driver, driving the car that came to collect her made her frown.
Mark leaned on the car’s horn as Bessie grabbed her handbag and locked up the cottage. She could see impatience on his face as she crossed to the car.
“Douglas?” he asked as he turned the car around while she was fastening her seatbelt. “I don’t suppose you’d rather go to Ramsey?”
“No, I would not,” Bessie said firmly.
“Only I told a friend I’d give him a ride somewhere,” Mark explained. “But he’s in Ramsey. I’d hate to make him wait while I take you all the way to Douglas.”
Bessie looked at him, sure that her astonishment would be obvious from her expression. “You’d like me to change my plans for the day to accommodate your friend?” Bessie asked.
“Well, I mean, maybe we could just swing by Ramsey and collect him,” Mark suggested. “It isn’t that much out of the way.”
Bessie stared at him for a moment. “If you really must,” she said. “But obviously I don’t expect to be charged for that portion of the trip. And I assume your friend, as he’s sharing the ride, will share the cost of the journey from Ramsey to Douglas with me.”
Mark frowned. “Well, I’m sort of taking him as a favour, you see,” he told Bessie. “I can’t make him pay, not really.”
“Well, I won’t be paying full fare if I’m sharing the ride,” Bessie said sharply. “Especially as the journey will take a good deal longer as we will be going in the wrong direction for much of it.”
Mark sighed deeply. “Never mind,” he said grumpily. “I’ll just take you to Douglas and make Joe wait.”
“As you’re doing him a favour, he shouldn’t mind,” Bessie said.
“Aye, but he will,” Mark muttered. That was the last thing that he said to Bessie during the journey, and Bessie wasn’t feeling inclined to make polite conversation.
“So, Douglas Gardens, are you thinking it’s time to look into nursing homes?” he asked as he pulled up in front of Bessie’s destination.
“I’m visiting a friend,” Bessie told him.
> “I reckon most of your friends are in homes now, aren’t they?” Mark asked. “I mean, they all must be getting on a bit, mustn’t they? If they’re still around, that is.”
Bessie counted to ten slowly and then counted again, backwards this time. She wasn’t feeling much calmer as she bit her lip and climbed out of the taxi. “Bill me,” she said curtly, turning and walking briskly away from the car before she said something she might regret later.
“What a horrible man,” she muttered to herself as she made her way through the glass doors at the entrance to the nursing home.
“I do hope you aren’t talking about me,” a familiar voice spoke from right inside the door.
Bessie looked over and smiled brightly. “Inspector Corkill, what a pleasant surprise.”
“You really must call me Pete,” he replied, looking Bessie up and down. “You’re looking very well,” he added.
“You are as well,” Bessie replied. The Douglas area police inspector had taken some time to warm up to Bessie following their unfortunate meeting after Bessie had found a murdered man, but now their relationship had developed into something like friendship. As Bessie studied him now, she realised that he was smiling, something she wasn’t sure she’d seen him do before. He looked fitter and healthier than he had the last time she’s seen him, as well.
“Ah, Bessie, what brings you to Douglas?” Helen Baxter, a pretty blonde nurse that Bessie knew from the woman’s interest in the medical history of the island, had joined them. Now she linked arms with Pete and rested her head on his shoulder.
Bessie smiled. Perhaps the changes in Pete had a simple explanation. “I came to visit an old friend,” she told the woman. “I’ve never actually been here before, but it’s meant to be a very nice facility.”
Helen nodded. “I stopped by to visit a former patient,” she told Bessie. “She was telling me how much she loves it here, and from everything I’ve seen, it’s a very nice place.”
“Yes, well, I can’t imagine moving out of my little cottage, but I do have to say it is nice to know there are good alternatives,” Bessie replied.
Aunt Bessie Invites (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 9) Page 15
