Aunt Bessie Observes (An Isle of Man Cozy Mystery Book 15)

by Diana Xarissa

  “We are touring and we’d love your company,” Bessie told him. “And I’m sure you know a great deal more about the exhibits than I do.”

  The museum tour started in the art gallery. Bessie was happy to sit and wait while Doug showed the sisters around the collection. The museum hadn’t added anything new recently, so Bessie simply enjoyed studying some of the watercolours along one of the walls.

  After a brief stop to look at the section on rocks, they made their way into the Stone Age exhibit. Doug was able to tell the trio a great deal more about the many finds on exhibit than even Bessie knew.

  “The Ronaldsway finds are the most interesting thing in here, at least in my opinion,” Doug said. “They appear to be the remains of a culture that was unique to the island. Everything we have for the time periods both before and after Ronaldsway seems to have been heavily influenced by developments elsewhere, but there are many unique features in the finds from Ronaldsway.”

  From there, they moved through the ages, spending some time looking at the Viking legacy before walking through the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. As they worked their way through the world wars and then on to the section about the island as a tourist destination, Janet sighed.

  “It always feels odd seeing things in museums that I can remember from my own life,” she said. “I don’t quite feel that I’m a museum piece yet.”

  Bessie laughed. “I know what you mean. I can remember when the promenade was packed so full of summer visitors that the locals stayed well away. And it doesn’t seem that long ago, although I suppose it is, if I stop to think about it.”

  “Perhaps it’s better not to think about it,” Doug suggested.

  “Yes, perhaps,” Bessie agreed.

  The tour ended in the gift shop, and Janet and Joan were both pleased with the lovely selection of Manx products available. Joan immediately selected a few books on the island’s history while Janet bought herself a brooch with a Manx Celtic design on it.

  “I’d love a quick word with Marjorie, the librarian and archivist, if you can spare the time,” Bessie said to her friends after they’d paid for their purchases.

  “Of course, we’ll wait here, shall we?” Janet asked.

  “You can wait or come with me,” Bessie told her. “I just want to go over a few things for the weekend.”

  “We’ll wait,” Janet said, eyeing up the benches by the door.

  Bessie nodded and then quickly crossed to the short corridor with offices that ran behind the gift shop. Marjorie’s door was open and she was sitting behind her desk, talking on the phone. The woman was a pretty blonde in her thirties, who had been working for the museum for a couple of years now.

  “Yes, yes, that’s right,” she was saying. She caught Bessie’s eye and waved her into the office and towards a chair. “We’ll see you on Friday evening, then. Thank you for ringing.” Marjorie put the phone down and smiled at Bessie. “I’m happy to see you,” she said. “Because I’m pretty sure you haven’t come by to complain about anything.”

  Bessie shook her head. “Of course I haven’t,” she said. “What on earth are people complaining about to you?”

  “The conference,” Marjorie said with a sigh. “The speakers aren’t happy with the schedule, the attendees aren’t happy with the speakers, and the caterers aren’t happy that we keep changing the numbers.”

  “I’m sorry. What can I do to help?” Bessie asked.

  “Nothing, although I do appreciate the offer. It isn’t any different to last year, really. I’d just forgotten how miserable it gets as we get closer to the actual event.”

  “I’m sure this year will be better,” Bessie said quietly. As she’d discovered a dead body after the opening speech of the previous conference, Bessie didn’t think this year’s could possibly be worse.

  “I certainly hope so,” Marjorie replied. She smiled at Bessie, although the expression looked forced. “I’m sorry. What did you want to talk to me about?”

  “I just wanted to make sure you got the phone message that I left. My friends, Janet and Joan Markham, are planning to attend the entire conference, at least at the moment. If they change their minds, they’ll still happily pay for everything anyway.”

  “I did get your message, but I’ve no idea what I’ve done with it,” Marjorie replied. “Let me find the list of attendees and I’ll make sure I’ve added them.”

  She dug through several piles of papers before she found what she was looking for. To Bessie, it appeared that there were a dozen or more sticky notes stuck all over the sheets that were stapled together. Marjorie ran her finger down the pages, flipping through them with a frown on her face.

  “Ah, here we are,” she said eventually. “I was starting to think that I’d only dreamed that I’d added them to the list. But they’re on here and we’ll have registration packets for them on Friday evening.”

  “Everything starts at half six?” Bessie checked.

  “Actually, would you like to come to dinner with our opening night speaker?” Marjorie asked. “Your friends would be welcome, as well. We’re trying to put together a fairly large group. Harold is determined to impress the man.”

  Bessie grinned. Dr. Harold Smythe had helped organise the conference the previous year and Bessie knew that he’d taken all of the problems that had happened as something of a personal affront. He was determined to make this year’s conference a huge success. “I don’t know that I know who the first speaker is,” Bessie said, trying to remember what Marjorie had told her.

  “And I’m not allowed to tell you,” Marjorie replied. “Harold is determined to keep it a secret until Friday, but you’ll be impressed, at least, I think you’ll be impressed.”

  “What time is dinner?”

  “Five, which is early, but the reception before the speech starts at half six and the speech is meant to start promptly at seven. We’ll be eating in the café here, although it will be done up to look a good deal fancier than normal. Harold wants the room full, if we can manage it.”

  “I’ll say yes for now,” Bessie said. “And once I’ve talked to Janet and Joan, I’ll ring you if they aren’t interested.”

  “Excellent. Harold has instructed me to fill at least two tables, which means eight people. If I add myself to your table, I only have to find four more people.”

  “I would have thought people would love the chance to have a free meal and spend some time with your exciting mystery guest,” Bessie said.

  “I think it’s just bad timing, being on a Friday night. A lot of the conference attendees aren’t actually arriving until Saturday morning, and the ones who are local have to work until five or later. I’m sure we’ll fill the room, but at least some of the guests will probably not have any idea who the man is, even after he’s been introduced.”

  “Now I’m intrigued,” Bessie said. “If I don’t ring you before, I’ll see you on Friday at five.”

  Marjorie got up and gave Bessie a quick hug. “Thank you, and thank your friends as well. Now to fill that other table.”

  Bessie rejoined Janet and Joan. As they made their way back to the car, she told them about the dinner on Friday evening.

  “It sounds interesting,” Janet said. “Of course we’ll come.”

  “Yes, of course,” Joan agreed.

  On the drive back to Laxey, they discussed their plans for the rest of the day.

  “I hate to admit it, but I’m getting hungry,” Bessie said.

  “Me, too,” Janet agreed. “And I still think pizza would be perfect.”

  “We had garlic bread and pasta for lunch,” Joan objected.

  “What about Chinese or Indian food?” Bessie asked. “I’m sure Doona can collect something and bring it with her.”

  “I love both,” Janet said.

  “I prefer Chinese, I suppose,” Joan said. “But nothing too spicy.”

  When they got back Laxey Beach, Bessie found the menu for the Chinese restaurant that was nearby. Once Janet
and Joan had had a chance to work out what they wanted, Bessie rang Doona.

  “Laxey neighbourhood policing, this is Doona. How can I help you?”

  “You can bring some Chinese food with you when you come over for dinner,” Bessie told her.

  Doona laughed. “I suppose I could,” she said. “Do you want to tell me what you want or should I guess?”

  Bessie read out the list of selections that Janet and Joan had made and added several of her own favourites to the list. “Add whatever you want, of course,” Bessie told her.

  “It all sounds good,” Doona replied. “What about pudding? Should I get something or are we going to be happy with fortune cookies?”

  “What about pudding?” Bessie asked the sisters.

  “I’ll bake an apple crumble,” Joan replied.

  “Joan is going to make an apple crumble,” Bessie told Doona.

  “I like her already,” Doona chuckled. “I’ll see you all in about ninety minutes, then.”

  “Come to the holiday cottage, not mine,” Bessie told her.

  The trio took a short walk on the beach, turned back by the police caution tape, and then settled on the rock behind Bessie’s cottage.

  “It looks as if several of the holiday cottages are empty,” Bessie remarked as she looked down the beach.

  “The police tape is a little bit off-putting,” Janet suggested.

  “I hope Thomas and Maggie don’t lose too much business,” Bessie said. “While the large summer crowds can be annoying, I appreciate that it’s their livelihood.”

  A family of four came out of one of the cottages and settled in on a blanket behind their holiday home. Bessie watched as the children, who weren’t much more than toddlers, chased each other up and down the sand. When the smaller of the two children ducked under the police tape to get away from the older sibling, the mother quickly pulled him out. A few moments later, they packed up and returned to their cottage.

  “I suppose I can see why people might not want to stay,” Bessie remarked.

  “I need to get started on our apple crumble,” Joan said. “You two can stay here, if you’d prefer.”

  Bessie and Janet sat on the rock and watched the sea for a few minutes, but before long the wind picked up and dark clouds began to roll in.

  “I think I’ve had enough fresh air,” Janet said, casting a worried glance at the sky.

  They weren’t far away from the cottage, but they still didn’t make it indoors before the first large and cold raindrops began to fall.

  “Where did that storm come from?” Janet demanded as she shivered in the doorway of the cottage.

  The cottage was dark, and Janet went around switching on lights while Bessie slid into a seat. In the kitchen, Joan was hard at work, peeling apples.

  “It did go very dark, very quickly,” she called to the others. “I had to stop peeling to put the lights on in here.”

  Just moments after she’d slid the casserole dish, full to the very top with sliced apples and golden crumble mix, into the oven, someone knocked on the door. Bessie followed Janet to answer it.

  “Hello,” Doona said as the door swung open. “It’s gone horrible out here rather suddenly.”

  Janet took the huge box of food cartons from the woman and carried it to the kitchen. When she and Joan emerged, Bessie introduced her friend to the sisters. Doona had recently dyed her hair red and Bessie still wasn’t sure what she thought of it. The colour worked well with Doona’s bright green eyes, but as those were helped along by coloured contact lenses, Bessie wasn’t convinced that the hair colour worked with Doona’s colouring.

  “It’s very nice to meet you both,” Doona said. “Bessie has told me a great deal about you.”

  Bessie had done more than that, occasionally sharing parts of Janet’s letters with her friend, but she was sure that Janet wouldn’t mind.

  “Let’s get something to eat and then we can all get to know one another,” Janet suggested.

  It didn’t take long for the women to fill plates and settle in around the small dining table.

  After a brief exchange of pleasantries and small talk, Janet smiled at Doona. “Bessie said you were married twice. Neither of us has ever married. Was it awful?”

  Doona laughed. “I wouldn’t say that, but clearly, as I’m single now, it didn’t work out.” She sighed. “My first husband and I had been childhood sweethearts. When we reached our early twenties, we both just felt like getting married was the next logical step. We didn’t think it through, of course, or we never would have done it. Anyway, we’re still friends. I see him and his wife once in a while and I’ve even been known to watch their kids while they have a night out once in a blue moon.”

  “I wonder what would have happened if I’d married any of the men I spent time with when I was younger,” Janet said thoughtfully.

  “You would have had to give up teaching, which you loved, and then you would have had a dozen children,” Joan said.

  Janet nodded. “You’re probably right,” she agreed. “And I do think that I’m much happier with the way my life has turned out than I would have been with a dozen children. But what about your second marriage?” she asked Doona.

  Doona took a deep breath. “The second one was harder because I was madly in love,” she said. “Unfortunately, after a glorious honeymoon I found out that my new husband had only married me to try to cover up the fact that he was having an affair with a married woman, a woman that he continued to see after we were married.”

  “How awful,” Janet gasped. “I’m sorry I asked. I didn’t mean to pry.”

  “It’s fine,” Doona assured her. “We were separated for over two years and I had filed for divorce when he was murdered.”

  “When you were on holiday,” Janet said. “Now I remember; Bessie told us all about it. You ended up being his heir, didn’t you?”

  “I did,” Doona nodded. “Although the solicitors across are still battling over the money. I suspect by the time they’re done there won’t be much more than a few pounds left for me.”

  “How awful,” Janet exclaimed.

  Doona shrugged. “I feel odd about taking the money anyway,” she said. “I don’t feel as if I deserve it.”

  “Well, the solicitors definitely don’t,” Janet said.

  Doona smiled. “You may be right about that. I’m sorry that your visit to the island was disrupted by what happened last night.”

  Janet nodded. “It wasn’t very pleasant, but in a way, I’m glad we found the man. I’m not sure when he would have been found otherwise.”

  “That’s a good point,” Bessie said. “The cottage was meant to be empty. Imagine how awful it would have been if Thomas had handed over the key to some poor family and they’d walked in and found the body.”

  “John wouldn’t have been pleased, either,” Doona added. “Goodness knows how much of the crime scene would have been compromised if that had happened.”

  “It would have been awful,” Bessie agreed. “Of course, Maggie was there last night wanting to get in and check the cottage over. I wonder what she would have done if she’d found the body.”

  “Probably dragged it out onto the sand before ringing for the police,” Doona said. “She’s furious that her cottage is a crime scene.”

  Bessie and Doona cleared the table, and then Joan served everyone generous helpings of apple crumble with vanilla ice cream.

  “I hope you can enjoy the rest of your visit, anyway,” Doona said.

  “Except now we’re helping with a fundraiser,” Joan muttered.

  “I’m sorry. I just felt so sorry for poor Agnes,” Janet said. “And we’ve been there. Remember what a mess everything was in when we stepped in to help back in Doveby Dale. I’m sure it’s a bigger mess here, especially with Julian turning up dead.”

  “You’re going to help Agnes with the event on Thursday?” Doona asked.

  Bessie told Doona what had happened at lunch that day. “With one committe
e member dead and another seemingly missing, we thought Agnes would appreciate some extra help,” she concluded.

  “What about Nathan’s wife?” Doona asked.

  “Nathan’s wife?” Bessie repeated.

  “Didn’t you say that the two men were on the island so that Nathan’s wife could recover from some illness?” Doona said.

  “I did,” Bessie replied.

  “So where is Nathan’s wife now?” was Doona’s question.

  Bessie looked at Janet and Joan. “I’ve no idea,” she said after a moment. “I didn’t even give the woman a single thought.”

  “Surely, if anyone is going to know where Nathan is, it will be her,” Doona suggested.

  “They were staying in Port Erin, I believe,” Bessie said. “Pete managed to track that much down, but he didn’t mention the wife.”

  “Is it too late to ring him to ask?” Janet wondered. “Because now that Doona’s mentioned it, I’m really curious.”

  Bessie nodded and pulled out her mobile phone. She had Pete’s home number, but she hated to disturb him. After hesitating for a moment, she rang John instead.

  “We were just talking about the case,” she explained when he answered. “And Doona asked about Nathan’s wife. Has she been found?”

  “We’ve just released the dead man’s name and details to the papers,” John replied. “We’re hoping that when people see it, they might ring up with more information. We’ve told the press all about the man’s criminal past, but we haven’t mentioned his partner at all. I’m telling you this so you know to keep quiet about what I’m going to tell you.”

  “I can tell Janet, Joan, and Doona, right?”

  “Yes, of course, but they must all keep this to themselves for now,” John replied. “The two men were staying at a bed and breakfast in Port Erin.”

  “Pete told me that,” Bessie replied. “But what about the wife?”

  “That’s just it. The two men were staying in Port Erin. Just the two men. The owner of the bed and breakfast never saw or even heard any mention of a wife.”